“Should I? Now, Miss Rose, I must warn you, I can be quite inventive with my imagination.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
He gives me a wicked smile seconds before his lips find the crook of my neck. He plants a hot, wet kiss to my pounding pulse before moving to the other side of my neck to repeat the process.
“Shall I start here?” He kisses his way down my chest, his breath warm over my nipple.
“Uh-huh.” I let out a breathy response.
“Or perhaps here.” He moves to the other breast, rubbing his nose across the hard peak.
“Anywhere,” I pant, desire making me desperate.
“Anywhere, you say?”
I can feel his smile against my skin.
“In that case.” He pushes himself up onto his knees, leaving my naked body cold without his intense heat.
Without giving me even a moment to object to his abrupt departure from my body, he grabs my legs and flips me over with such ease you would think I weighed nothing. I let out a huff of air when I land on my stomach, only to squeal when his fingers dig into my hips, pulling them up so that my ass is in the air.
His hold on me vanishes entirely and it takes me far too long to realize it’s because he’s sitting back, admiring the view.
While instinct has me wanting to coil in, to cover myself, given how utterly exposed I am, it’s the heat of his gaze that keeps me in place.
I hear him move as I feel the bed shift, holding my breath as I wait for his next move. Only, when it comes, I am nowhere near prepared for the warmth of his breath when his face slips between my legs, giving me a full view of his thick, dark hair as he wedges himself between the bed and my lower half, making it where I’m practically sitting right on his face. And when he grabs my hips a second time, guiding me down, that’s exactly what I end up doing.
He doesn’t ease me into it. Doesn’t waste his time toying with me. No, he dives right in and starts to feast like a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks. I am putty in his hands, being molded and shaped with every swipe of his tongue.
Macallan has proven two things to me over the last couple of days. One, that he knows how to push my body to its absolute limit like no man I’ve ever met before. And two,he has no intention of stopping anytime soon. And as much as I know I shouldn’t, I don’t want him to stop.
I don’t want him to stop wanting me. To stop craving me. To stop pleasuring me with the skill of a man who knows exactly how to please a woman.
And as my orgasm rips through me, as I ride Macallan’s face like a woman undone, one other thing becomes abundantly clear... It’s not just my body that doesn’t want him to stop. And when he slips out from beneath me, shifting to his knees behind me, I have only one thought before he thrusts into me hard and fast, chasing away my ability to think at all... I think I might be in trouble.
