Page 48 of Festive Faking
My jeans were undone, so I felt it only fair that we matched each other in our level of undress.
He sucked in a sharp breath when my fingers brushed his waistband, but he didn’t stop me. Our breaths mixed as we both stared down, watching me lower the zipper.
Before I could do anything more, Mac reached inside his underwear, letting out a relieved sigh as he repositioned his erection.
Curious, I asked, “Does that hurt?”
He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Denim is unforgiving, so things can get a bit uncomfortable when a pretty girl has me hard enough to pound nails.”
A blush crept up my neck at hearing him call me pretty.
“Truth,” I whispered, and his eyes flared. “You’re the first man I’ve ever made hard.”
His jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug.
His demeanor shifted from shocked to determined, and he gripped my hips before tossing me onto the bed. I squealed as I bounced, but any kind of playful retort died on my lips when I peeked up and saw Mac was on the prowl. He looked like he wanted to devour me whole, and God help me, I wanted to let him.
“You know what?” He wedged a knee between my thighs, providing the perfect pressure to have me moaning instantly.
“What?” I asked breathlessly, clutching at his shoulders to gain leverage to grind against him even harder.
“Only means I get even more of your firsts.”
There wasn’t time to react before his mouth crashed down on mine in a punishing kiss. Gone were the soft strokes of his tongue as he dove in deep, claiming me as promised. His hands found my breasts, and I tore my lips away on a gasp. My back bowed, arching into the pleasure when his thumbs dragged over the sensitive peaks. The ache between my thighs grew unbearable, and I needed relief.
“Please, Mac.” My voice sounded foreign to my own ears—breathy, desperate, and dripping with lust.
His breath was hot in my ear. “Every time you try to rush me, I’m going to slow it down even more.”
I let out a loud groan of frustration, which was met with a throaty chuckle from Mac.
Trailing kisses down my neck, he licked a path over my collarbone before pulling back to blow across the slick skin. Goosebumps rose instantly, and I shivered.
“So responsive,” he mused. Dark hair had fallen into his eyes filled with so much heat that I could literally feel it scorching my skin.
Pressing his lips over my racing heart, he shimmied lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans and giving a warning tug. “This okay?”
My ass was off the mattress in an instant. “I want yours off too.”
Teeth nipped at my hipbone. “Deal.”
He wrenched the worn denim down my thighs, pausing at the ankles to remove my boots. The only garment that remained was a tiny black lace thong.
Stepping back from the bed, he rose to his full height. Gaze roving over my prone form, he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed along the length of his throat.
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
He didn’t need to qualify his statement by prefacing that it was his truth. I could see it in his eyes; he meant every word.
I’d waited my whole life for this. Not sex but to have a man look at me like Mac did now. With reverence, with longing, and above all else, with passion.
Flushed from head to toe, with a buzzing beneath my skin, I decided to urge him on by removing the flimsy fabric covering the last bit of me from his view. Then I figured why the hell not and tossed my panties straight at his chest.
Yeah, that backfired immediately because he caught the material with ease, brought it to his nose, and inhaled deeply, moaning as he did so. I was so shocked that any trace of potential shyness over lying bare before him vanished in an instant.
“If you taste half as good as you smell, Freckles, I might have to check into rehab tomorrow. Because I’m gonna be addicted.”
