Page 62 of Festive Faking
I chewed the corner of my lip. “Maaaaaaaybe.”
A near growl rumbled from his chest, and for some reason, I decided I wanted to push him over the edge.
My mischievous grin couldn’t be contained. “Now that I think about it, the world deserves to know.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Guess you’ve left me no choice, then.”
Arching an eyebrow, I waited for him to explain.
“Gonna have to double my efforts tonight to ensure you don’t have a voice in the morning.”
Merry Christmas to me.
“You really have no one to blame but yourself, Aspen.” Those were the last words he said before his lips crashed down on mine, swallowing the needy moan that sounded on impact.
When his pelvis nestled into the cradle of my thighs, and his hard cock lined up against my core, I cursed the half-dozen layers of clothing that separated us.
Mac’s tongue thrust into my mouth at the same steady tempo as the rocking of his hips, driving me insane and making me desperate for a more thorough claiming. Having to make a choice about what to do with my hands, I slid them over his ass, urging him to move faster.
It didn’t work. Instead, he hitched one of my thighs over his hip, opening me up as he slowed down even more, his length pressed firmly against where I needed him.
My gasp broke our kiss. Mac took this as an opportunity to drag his mouth along my exposed neck, one hand skimming beneath my top to cup my bare breast and roll the hardened peak between his fingers.
“Tell me what you want.” He tugged an earlobe between his teeth.
“You.” My voice came out so breathy it was foreign to my ears.
That earned me a sharp tweak to my nipple, and I groaned, the action sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my throbbing clit and making my hips buck.
“You already have me, honey, so you’re going to need to be more specific.”
I threw my head back on a whine, frustration rising to the surface.
Twenty-four hours ago, I was a virgin. Did he really expect me to turn into a sexually confident woman overnight? If so, he would be sorely disappointed.
“How about this,” Mac rasped. “We pretend like we’re a couple of teenagers sneaking around. You got your Daddy to let you borrow his truck, and we’re getting hot and heavy in the back somewhere private. You’re not ready to go all the way, but I wanna make you feel good. We end up dry humping so I can get you off while, at the same time, I’m trying to keep from coming in my pants and embarrassing myself in front of the girl I like.”
A whimper caught in my throat at the role-play he suggested.
His lips buzzed against my skin when he chuckled. “I think we both know I’m likely to lose that battle. You drive me so fucking insane that I can’t control myself.”
Power coursed through my veins, the same as it had last night, at the idea of him coming unraveled because ofme.Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to push him past the breaking point, and that became my sole focus.
Spreading my thighs as far as they would go, I raised my hips, eager for the sweet relief of friction. Mac groaned into my neck but didn’t hold back; his fully clothed thrusts picked up immediately. The ridge of his dick fit perfectly against my seam, and I rubbed frantically against it, racing toward release.
Pressure built the faster we ground against each other, both of us chasing our pleasure.
“Oh God,” I moaned, teetering on the edge. “Right there. I’m gonna come.”
Grunting, he slid both hands beneath my ass, changing the angle, and I shattered, ecstasy bursting through my nerve endings. My scream split the air, floating toward the stars, which seemed to be dancing just for me.
“Breathe, Aspen,” Mac’s strained voice coaxed as his hips kept up their steady pace.
My lungs filled with air at his command.
“Ride it out, honey.”
Not like I had much choice. He had me pinned; each rough pass of his covered cock shot sparks through my nervous system until I grew too sensitive and begged him to stop.
