Page 63 of Man Cuffed
I make myself take a half step backward, though. If he wants to leave, I’m not going to beg. It’s not my style.
Mac stands up from the bar stool, and my heart stops. He’s about to leave. Again. But then he lifts the lid off the moanies, plucks one out, and breaks it in half. “I want to hear you moan. First with this,” he says, placing the bit of brownie into my waiting mouth. Then he grabs my hand and puts it on the swell of his jeans. “And then I want to make you moan withthis.”
Sensory overload! I moan on command. Anybody would. There’s chocolate in my mouth and a rock-hard dick under my palm.
That’s it. My brain has entered complete shut-down mode.
I hurl myself at him.
He catches me, smiling. Our next kiss has the taste of chocolate. But I need more. My lips begin a patrol of their own, beginning on his roughened cheek, and traveling across the bristle of his jaw. Then I lick my way down his neck.
“Ungh,” he says as his fingers find the first few buttons of my shirt. I love the slightly salty taste of his skin, and I show him how much with more kisses. Mac makes hasty work of my buttons. Broad hands slide up my tummy and work their way under my bra. A jolt of energy zings through me. That roughened hand on my breast is everything. I pull back and look up at him, my chest heaving.
He slides my shirt off my shoulders, tossing it down, revealing my lacy (hand-washable!) bra, my breasts heavy in the cups. He doesn’t take time to mess with unclasping my bra, but just takes each breast and lifts it out, so that I’m spilling over my underwire. He teases one nipple with his thumb while his other hand cups my ass. Like he can’t decide what to touch next.
And then—thank you universe—he lowers his mouth to exactly where I need him, licking my nipple. I shiver, and not from the cool air on my skin.
He plays me like an instrument, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning. Maybe he’d like to hear it, but I need to at least try to hold myself back. I run my hand through his thick hair, coasting further to the slope of his neck. God, Maguire looks sexy like this, bent over in service to my pleasure. Just as I’m about to say “the other one,” he’s already beat me to it by putting his warm, firm mouth on my other breast, licking and sucking, inhaling me, as if he can’t get enough.
And neither can I. I’m close to begging, dammit. To shut myself up, I tug on his chin, until that wicked mouth is on mine again. And we are kissing as if there’s no tomorrow, because right now, there isn’t. It’s my turn to unbutton his shirt. I want it off him, preferably yesterday. But as I unbutton his uniform shirt, it’s just occurring to me that I can’t undress him without help. He’s wearing a heavy service belt and agun, for fuck’s sake. That’s way above my pay grade.
Sensing my distress, Mac straightens up and winks at me. He opens several attaching loops on his belt, tossing them onto my countertop. Then he unclips his entire duty belt and carries it over to my refrigerator, where he lays it out of reach. “For safety’s sake, I need to ask you not to touch this.”
“I won’t,” I say quickly.
“Good girl,” he whispers, rejoining me where I stand half naked and waiting for him. “That’s the only thing you can’t touch, though.”
“Good to know,” I whisper back, blinking up at him.
He takes my hands in his and places them on his shirt. “Better get started, then.”
Right! I recommence unbuttoning him. And goddamn! His chest is glorious. I’d noticed before, of course, but it’s even better when he’s up close and personal. He has the perfect amount of hair on his chest, and his muscles flex when I touch him. “You really could be a stripper, you know,” I tease.
He kisses me. Hard. Then I almost swallow my tongue as his pants come off. He kicks off his socks, then drops his boxer briefs, too. Then he’s standing there in front of me, his cock hard and proud.
I don’t even think before I take him in hand. Thinking is so last season. We’re way past that. His cock pulses in my hand, and then he’s kissing my neck and my tits while I tease his cock with my hand. I give him a gentle squeeze, eliciting a sexy as fuck groan from him.
“Christ.” He grabs my hand by the wrist. “What did I say about speeding? You’re doing ninety in a fifty-five.”
“I’m sorry, Officer. It won’t happen again.”
“Make sure of it.” He puts those big hands on my shoulders and turns me around. When he speaks again, I feel his breath on the back of my neck. “I want this to last, Trouble.”
Is it because it’s the first time or the only time? I’m not going to ask. Not right now, anyway. Because Maguire has unbuttoned my denim skirt. It falls to the floor, and then he pulls me against him and I can feel his hard cock up lined against my ass. He presses the length against me, and I lean back a little. His hands are skimming my body, cupping my heavy breasts. I bow my head, and he sucks gently on the back of my neck.
This is why vampires are fucking sexy. I get it now!
Maguire doesn’t draw blood of course. He probably won’t even leave a mark. But I wish he would. I wish he’d mark me and claim me as his. And I’d claim him back.
But I’ll take what I can get. And what I get is a hard cock against my ass, his hands on my tits, his tongue turning me into a puddle. And then one of his naughty hands slides down, invading my panties. I have never felt so much anticipation as when his hand dips lower. That clever hand fights the fabric and wins, until his thick fingers begin to circle my clit. I am warm and wet and waiting for him.
“Fuck, Meg,” he breathes against my neck. “You’re so hot and sweet.”
I moan at just the idea, turning a little so that I can kiss him while he works my clit. But his thumb is not enough. A groan of frustration escapes me.
“Shh,” he says. “I got you.” Then, whoosh! My panties drop away. He whirls me around again, shoving everything on my counter aside. The moanies, some bills, and a jar of peanut butter. The peanut butter actually falls off.
Whatever. Who cares. Because he lifts me up, my bare ass hitting the counter. And I’m naked and sitting in front of Maguire, who’s also naked. There’s a breeze from the door to the deck, and it brushes sweetly against my overheated body.
