Page 87 of Hero Hair
“Oh, come on. Were you watching Magic Mike again? That move isn’t even fair. If I tried that I would have fallen on my face with my ass in the air.”
Macs narrows his eyes. “Ass in the air. I like that.”
His cock is hard. It’s standing at attention, barely bobbing as he moves. If we had sex twice daily I think I’d still be able to get him hard by smiling. It’s why we work so well together. Our sexual appetites are similar. I slide my sweater off my shoulders. He stalks forward another step.
Turning, I pull a butter knife from the box of random forgotten things from my apartment. I pick up my white underwear with the tip of the blade. Raising them in the air, I say, “I’m waving the white flag. You win. You win! This is me surrendering to your obvious lusty desires! White panties at the end of a butter knife.”
Macs grins as he takes the butter knife out of my hand and sets it back in the box.
“I’m yours now. You don’t have to work this hard,” I tease. “I want to fuck you basically anytime you want.”
“You’re mine now? Just now?” He cocks his head in question and the muscles in his shoulders and neck bunch.
I swallow. “Yes.” I lean forward and trace his bone frog tattoo with the tip of my tongue. He shudders under the sensation. I smile.
“Here’s the thing,” Macs says, taking my waist in his hand. “You’ve always been mine. Since that first day I saw you. Argue if you must, but know I laid my claim on day one.”
Arguing would be moot at this point. I want to be his. I grab his steel shaft and relish when he groans at my touch. Dropping to my knees, I put him in my mouth.
“Not too long. I’d really rather fuck you, but ah,” he chokes out. “It feels too good,” he groans. He’s warm in my mouth and his flavor is a blow directly to my core. That’s all it takes. The chemistry of us is simple and maddening. I slide him to the back of my throat, while keeping my gaze on his face. His eyelids flutter shut when I tease his balls in between my fingers. “Enough. Get on the bed,” he commands.
It’s a weak command, but I want him inside me, so I don’t fight him.
I’m out of my clothes and sliding back on the large bed in seconds. He grabs me by the foot to stop me from moving any further. He leans down and kisses the inside of my calf, under my knee, the inside of my thigh, and then exactly where I’m telling his mouth to go. My voice is throaty and on edge as I give him orders and tell him where to touch.
“That feels good. Do that,” I say.
Macs chuckles, and the vibrations set my teeth on edge. “Like that,” he asks, leaning up from his furious licking. Pushing his head back down, I let out a stream of curse words that cause him to laugh even more.
His hands are tight around my legs, controlling every tiny movement. The rough sensation of his scruff wars with the smooth gliding of his tongue and fingers, and I tell him I’m going to come if he keeps the pace up much longer. He knows my tells and right when I’m about to come he slides up between my legs and drives his cock deep inside me.
He grunts and groans and tells me he wants to live here—just like this. He starts moving eventually because the sensations are too deep and I’m writhing against him to get the friction I need. His lips are on my neck and my hands are twining in his hair. Everywhere his skin meets mine feels like electric, the greatest high in the world.
“You’re mine,” Macs growls in my ear as he bites the edge.
I moan in response, locking my legs around him at the same time. Skin slaps and limbs tangle. I come fast and hard, pulling his ass to me to keep him in as deep as he can go.
He leans his forehead on my shoulder and waits for me to finish before he slams into me several more times. “Where? Where do you want it?” His breaths are fierce as he demands fast answers.
“Come here,” I say, closing my eyes and rubbing my nipples. I tilt my head back in case his aim misses.
Macs pulls out and comes on my small, rounded stomach. He apologizes for missing and slides down to kiss the side of my belly.
“Who are you apologizing to? Surely not the baby,” I say, breathing out in a rush of adrenaline. “I said tits and you missed. What kind of comer are you?”
He laughs. “Well, I didn’t mean to rain on his parade either,” he explains, pointing to my wet belly button.
“He lives in wetness, Macs. A little rain wouldn’t kill him even if you did want to come inside me every once in a while. You used to enjoy that, remember?”
It’s the ongoing joke now that I’m pregnant, he refuses to blast the baby with semen. I understand his issue even if it makes zero logical sense.
Macs raises his eyebrows. “God, do I ever like coming inside this tight pussy,” he growls, jutting inside me to drive his point home.
I sigh in pleasure, every nerve ending heightened by hormones.
“You’re both mine,” he says, kissing my neck.
“We are.”
Nothing has ever made me this happy. “And you’re ours.”
“Good. Get dressed. I have to show you something right now,” Macs says, leaning off me and hopping to the foot of the bed like a small child. “I’m serious. I even need to use the blindfold.”
