Messing With Mac

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe… “Mac…”

“I know, baby. I know.” And he put his mouth on her.

At the first silken stroke of his tongue she nearly burst right out of her own skin. At his second stroke, her back went rigid. Gripping handfuls of his sheets in her fists, she mindlessly ground her hips in spite of the hold he had on her.

“Good?” he lifted his head to ask.

She throbbed. Ached. Quivered. “Good.”

He bent his head again and sucked her into his mouth, making her come in a blinding, thrashing, gut-wrenching rush. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, it was completely out of her realm, and as he didn’t stop, she kept coming.

Gradually, with gentle kisses and wordless murmurs, he brought her down, and when her breathing slowed, he leisurely made his way back up her body, using that wonderful, talented, greedy mouth.

“Oh, Mac,” she sighed with a last shudder, and kissed him.

Mac could have drowned in that kiss, and might have if he hadn’t been so consumed with the sheer primal lust ripping through his body. “Condom,” he managed, and held it up. “Gotta get it on.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Just do it quick.”

Her fingers on him nearly took him right over, and when she stopped to swirl her thumb over the tip of him, he could only growl her name, on the very thin edge of control. He couldn’t help it, not after watching her come apart for him, not with the taste of her still on his lips. He’d wanted to make her shudder and gasp and cry out his name, and he’d done that.

Now he wanted to do it again. He wanted her writhing beneath him. He wanted to see her, wanted to hear more of those mind-blowingly sexy little whimpers and panting entreaties.

“Now,” she ordered, wrapping her fingers around the full length of him, guiding him to her. “Now.”

With one thrust, he drove himself home, and then, overcome by the tight, wet heat surrounding him, by her hands gliding mindlessly up and down his back, by the long, ragged sigh that escaped her lips, he went utterly still before he lost it too fast.

“Please,” she begged, those perfectly lacquered fingernails digging into his butt.

Oh yeah, he’d please. He let himself go, gave in to the tense, quivering, straining muscles that wanted to ride, and when she dug those nails in again, his hips started to piston madly, pounding into her, possessing, taking. Giving.

Tossing back her head, Taylor arched into him, pulling her legs back, taking even more of him, deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust.

Damp flesh slapped against damp flesh. Breathing came hard and uneven. The mattress creaked, the headboard hit the wall in a rhythm set by their desperate motions. It was the wild, screaming, sweaty sex she’d been tormenting him with for days.

Then, skin slick, chest heaving, Taylor cried out, gripping him for all she was worth as she splintered into a thousand pieces in his arms, shuddering, shuddering, her inner muscles clenching him so tight he could do nothing but hold on tight and follow her over.

They collapsed into each other, still quivering, still gasping, exhausted in their utter satisfaction.

Mac knew he needed to shift his weight, that he was heavy, but he was wrung out, panting for air, and still so entwined with Taylor he had no idea where her body began and his ended.

Several minutes passed like that, while he caught his breath and waited for his world to stop spinning.

“I can’t see,” Taylor finally said, voice hoarse.

With great effort he lifted his face from where it was plastered to the side of her neck. He had her hair in his mouth. Spitting it out, he said, “Your eyes are closed.”

“Oh.” She gave that some thought. Without opening them, she said, “And I can’t feel my toes.”

Craning his neck, he looked at her bare, very sexy toes. “I think it’s because I’m heavy.”

But when he would have moved off her, she tightened her fingers, which were still embedded in his butt. “Don’t,” she whispered, hugging him tight. “Not yet.”

“You’ll suffocate.” With a huge effort, he heaved himself up to his elbows and stared, a little stunned, into her face.

Her cheeks were rosy. Her lips were wet and slightly swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were soft, void of that usual cool haze, and smiling at him.

She was so beautiful it took his breath. “Taylor…”

She slapped his butt. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty good at that wild, screaming, sweaty sex stuff?”

“Pretty good?”

The female smile turned quite smug. “Okay. Pretty, pretty good.” Her hips rocked, just a very little, tiny motion, but he felt it all the way to his toes.

Still hard within her, he thrust back.

Smugness vanished as she gasped.

He thrust again.

Her mouth fell open now, her eyes glazing over. “Mac? Again?”

“I have to upgrade ‘pretty, pretty good’ to ‘mind-blowingly amazing,’ don’t I?”

Her breath caught when he dipped down and kissed a breast. “O-okay.”

Another slow, rocking thrust.

And then again.

Taylor arched up, tighter than a drawn bow, her nipples beaded in two hard buds, her skin glowing and damp as he watched her fight to take what he held just out of her reach. “Oh, Mac. Faster. Harder.”

He gave her harder but held back on the faster. Kept it slow until she was clutching at him, mindless again, on the very edge. “Mac!”

Just as it always had been, resisting her took every bit of control he had. “Is it pretty, pretty good?” he whispered.

“It’s… Oh, Mac…”

“Easy,” he whispered, running hot, openmouthed kisses down her throat. “We’re going to take it nice and easy this time.”

“No, I…please…it’s…” She opened her eyes on his, and he could tell by the desperation and need warring on her face she couldn’t remember what he wanted to hear.

“Mind-blowingly amazing,” he said, helping her. Then stroked a thumb right above where they were joined.

She bucked beneath him. “Mind-blowingly…oh, yeah, it is,” she managed as he slowly, slowly thrust into her. “Mind-blowingly amazing.” And when he stroked his thumb again, her thighs and belly went taut. She held him in a death vise, suspended for a long heartbeat…staring up at him with wide, passion-dazed eyes as she let go, letting him watch her fall.

The honesty nearly killed him, and took him over, too. He let go, giving himself so completely he had no idea how he was going to ever get over it. Over her.

No idea at all.

14

TAYLOR AWOKE as dawn broke and discovered two things. One, Mac was a serious pillow hog, and two, he slept like the living dead.

That worked in her favor, as she needed a moment to digest things, and she couldn’t do that with him wrapped around her like a cocoon.

Gently as she could, she slid out from the two strong, warm arms holding her captive against his chest. They must have been sleeping like that for awhile, as her face was stuck to his chest, her chest to his belly.

Lifting her head, she stared down into his face.