Page 49 of Festive Faking
My breath caught in my throat, and my pussy grew wet enough that it soaked the comforter beneath me.
He stuffed my underwear into the back pocket of his jeans before shoving them down his legs, taking his boxers with them.
When he straightened, I got the first good look at his dick. Not gonna lie; my thighs closed automatically at the idea of him shoving that between them.
Yup, that’s gonna hurt.
Mac brought a hand to his length, stroking the stiff shaft, his eyes never leaving mine. “That’s why we’re going slow. We’re gonna take our time, get you nice and ready, baby.”
I nodded my understanding. All that was left to do was bank on trust that he knew what he was doing because I sure didn’t.
He crawled back onto the bed, hovering above me to make sure he didn’t crush me with his body weight. Dipping his head, he offered me a druggingly slow kiss, setting the tone for how he’d promised this was going to go.
My hands skimmed up the bunching muscles along his back, committing the feel to memory. Who knew if tonight was a one-time-only deal. I was too afraid to ask, so I was determined to make the most of the experience.
Mac moved to my neck, sucking the skin and making me moan. I didn’t care that I’d be covered in hickeys when we attended Christmas Eve service with my family tomorrow. They would serve as a reminder that what we shared tonight had been real, that I hadn’t dreamt it.
Sensation surrounded me, stealing my focus, so I was caught completely off-guard when his mouth closed over my nipple and he pulled the sensitive peak between his teeth as his fingers plucked its twin.
I cried out, back arching, the pleasure greater than anything I’d ever known.
My hips, grinding against his bare thigh, bucked faster than one of the broncs we sent to rodeo, the weight of his heavy cock resting atop my belly driving me insane. The proof that he wanted this—wantedme—was right there.
With one hand tangled in Mac’s messy hair, I reached the other down to wrap my fingers around his thick length, testing the feel of it—softer than I’d imagined—and giving a gentle squeeze since he seemed to like that when we were in the truck.
A growl sounded as he released my nipple with an audible pop. “Bold little thing, aren’t you?” His hips rolled, thrusting his dick into my hand. “You want more of my cock, honey?”
“God, yes,” I breathed, gaining the courage to begin stroking him.
I thought for sure he was finally ready to put me out of my misery. But instead, he pried my fingers away, batting at my hand when I tried to retake my claim.
Tsking, he chided, “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Haven’t I waited long enough?” My huffed words came out broken between panting breaths.
“Need something to take the edge off?” His voice was thick and deep, rolling over me like honey.
Licking my lips, I took a risk and begged, “Please.”
Mac leaned on one elbow, took a finger, and brought it to my mouth. I wanted to please him, so I gripped his wrist to keep him there before parting my lips and sucking on that finger as deep and hard as I could.
He must’ve liked it because he bit into the flesh of my shoulder, which did very little to muffle the sound of a guttural groan.
The digit was coated in my saliva when he pulled it away, using it to trail a slick path down my chin, along my sternum, and over my navel, until he dragged it through my dripping-wet slit.
I could have sworn I stopped breathing when the pad of that fingertip circled over my clit. The pressure was too light, a barely-there touch, and I needed more.
As if he could read my thoughts, he pulled his hand away, giving the spot a sharp smack that had me levitating off the bed on a scream. My eyes slammed shut and bright lights burst beneath the lids. Tremors wracked my body as wave after wave of intense pleasure radiated outward from my core.
“Perfection,” Mac whispered, his voice sounding far away.
My mind might be hazy, but I was pretty sure the man had literally slapped my pussy and made me come. Never in a million years would I have guessed I’d like something like that, but it was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to do it again.
Lying limp on the bed, I barely noticed when something wedged between my spread-open thighs. At this point, Mac could do pretty much anything he wanted to me and I wouldn’t have been able to put up a fight. Not that I wanted to, but still. I was that blissed out.
“Aspen?”
I moaned, my head lolling to the side. Forcing my heavy eyelids open, I frowned when I didn’t find Mac lying beside me.
