Jill Shalvis - Messing With Mac

No matter what they each claimed, this was no comfort sex. Maybe Mac wasn’t ready to admit it, but she could wait for the words.

The actions though…those she needed, desperately. Now. She could feel her nipples, rigid against the silk. She could feel her thighs, and the dampness between them, and the blood roaring through her veins. Every single atom in her body was vibrantly aware, overly sensitized and aroused. She was tingling all over, so full of anticipation and raging need she could hardly stand it.

She didn’t have to. Mac yanked off his shirt. Kicked off his shoes, then his pants, before coming back to her.

At the sight of him, she caught her breath. He was amazing. Magnificent. Huge. She would have looked at him forever, but he yanked her against him, hard.

Hard was good. Bending her back over his arm, he put his mouth on her breast through the material of her nightie, and nearly sent her through the roof. His hand skimmed down her legs, then back up again, beneath the material now. Up the back of her thigh.

Where he discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.

The knowledge ripped a rough groan from him and a shiver of thrill from her.

If he didn’t get to the rest soon, now, she was going to explode. Looping her arms around his neck, she slid her silk against his hot, pulsing, vibrating body.

Tensing, his hands tightened on her. “Taylor…”

“Yes,” she sighed into his ear, then rimmed it with her tongue, making him groan and his body jerk. Encouraged, she slid her tongue down the side of his throat, thrilling to the way his fingers dug into her hips.

“Condom,” he growled, frustration pouring off him. “I don’t have a-”

“I do.” She pulled back, giving him a small, secret smile as she stroked her fingers over her own breast.

“I tucked one right in here.”

His mouth fell open as if he needed it that way just to breathe.

“Are you going to get it?” she asked, the words barely out of her mouth before he yanked on the rib bon beneath her breasts, spilling them free. As the nightie fell away, he found the small foil packet.

Scooping it up, he stared at it. “You packed a con dom.”

“I believe in safe sex.”

“Yes, but…” Now he looked at her; hot and bothered, and baffled. An irresistible combination.

“When you called,” he said slowly. “You were so scared-”

“I was.”

“But when I got there you were dressed, with your hair and makeup done. Waiting for me. You…you knew we were going to do this,” he accused, his eyes narrowing.

“I knew you would come,” she said truthfully. “I also knew only you would make it better. Only you, Mac.”

He groaned again, and she didn’t know if it was from getting his first good look at her naked body, or that he was trying to garner the strength to push her away. On the off chance he could muster enough to do it, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and tugged backward so that she fell on her back on the mattress and he fell over her.

“Damn it,” he grated out, lifting his weight off her. “I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m not fragile.” Arching her hips, she brushed the very center of herself over his erection, making him hiss out a breath. “I’m not going to break.”

He ripped open the little packet while she ran her fingernails down his belly, smiling when he tensed at the teasing caress and dropped the condom. Twice. Then his hands tightened on her bare thighs, pushing them open so that she was spread out for him, and her smile faded, replaced by a bated breath as she closed her eyes and waited for him to put the condom on, to thrust home.

When he didn’t, she opened her eyes. He was staring down at her. “You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said in a reverent whisper. Still holding her gaze, he skimmed his hands down her thighs until his thumbs met at her creamy center. Slowly, so maddeningly slowly she thought she would die, he gently traced them over her, lightly, up and down. Down and up. Her hips ground helplessly, and when he did it again, then yet again, she let out a helpless whimper.

“So wet,” he whispered, dropping his gaze now to watch what he was doing, slipping a finger into her as he continued to apply pressure to just the right spot with his thumb.

Her body strained, and the wordless demand she made was most definitely a cry for more.

Still watching as his fingers drove her to the edge, he made a sound, too, a deep, throaty moan.

And then drew away.

With a desperate sob, Taylor arched her hips upward. If he stopped now…

“Shh.” He slid his body off the bed until he was kneeling on the floor, his broad shoulders wedged between her thighs. Sliding his hands beneath her undulating hips, he held her still.

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.