Page 135 of Here & There

His fingers are still inside me. I rock my hips on him, coaxing his hand open so his thumb hits my clit.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He quickly removes his hand, reaches out with his other hand, and opens the closet door. Then he ducks inside, pulling me after him. I don’t know if the guys are still there, and I don’t care.

He slams the door behind me and presses my back up against it. I’m pressed against a frosted glass window, and while normally no one would be able to see in from the dark hallway, my back pressed up against the glass is sure to be visible.

But I don’t care. Because Mac’s already opened the rest of the buttons on my dress, flinging it open. He bends down, taking a breast in his hand and fixing his mouth on my nipple. His other hand goes back to work where it was a moment ago while my hands thread through his hair, pressing his face down on me.

I moan, bucking against him as he fills me with his thick fingers.

His other hand leaves my breast, going up to my mouth to cover it as he drops to his knees. I can’t see him, but I feel him as he slides the flat of his tongue along my slit.

I cry out, the sound muffled against his hand. I hook a leg over his shoulder to give him better access to me, completely wanton now.

Mac tugs at my clit with his lips and tongue while his fingers continue plunging in soft beckoning tugs inside me.

It comes fast. In only a few moments, my orgasm rides up like a freight train, and then I’m coming so hard against his face my whole body shakes, pleasure rippling through me in hot, unceasing waves.

I cling to him, pulsing against him.

But he doesn’t let up. He keeps going until I collapse against him.

I pant heavily, still so worked up I can hardly see straight.

When he stands up, my pussy pulses with the absence of his tongue—I’m already ready for more.

“You taste so fucking good,” Mac says in my ear.

When he kisses me, I slip my hand down between my legs. The back of my arm brushes against Mac’s stiff bulge, and he groans into my mouth.

“Are you touching yourself, Shelby?”

“Yes,” I say, already feeling myself rising up that hill again.

He abruptly turns me around. “Don’t come until I’m inside you,” he commands in my ear.

I move my fingers in tight circles over my slippery, swollen clit as I hear his belt clink open.

My moaning comes out in hot pants at the quick zing of his zipper. “I can’t wait.”

He grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away from my body. He wraps his hand around mine and slides us over his length. He’s hot and so hard it must be painful.

He nips at my throat. “I said wait, naughty girl.”

“I don’t want to.” I rise up on my toes and try my best to get up onto him.

But I’m too short. I whimper in frustration. “Please,” I beg.

I hear the crinkle of foil. Then both hands wrap around my waist, his thumbs pressing into the small of my back. Mac lifts me up, and I only feel the soft heat of his tip against me for a moment before he sinks me down onto him.

The feeling of him filling me from this position is so absolute I make a guttural sound I didn’t think I was capable of.

Mac positions me so my knees are resting on his thighs, and like this, we’re in the perfect position. He keeps his hands on me, lifting me up and dropping me so I bounce up and down on hislength. The friction is so fucking delicious I’m sure I’m going to come just like this.

But he grunts “touch yourself” in my ear. “Please, Shelby. I need to know you’re going to come. I have to feel you.”

I love it when he gets like this. Demanding but vulnerable. Intense but soft.

I brace myself against the doorframe with one hand and work my clit with the other.

---