Was it wrong to want this man so completely while wearing her husband’s clothes, listening to Elijah’s playlist? Grieving him? Was it even normal to love one and still desperately want—need—another?
Mac gaze bored into hers, and instructed as though he could read her thoughts, “No more thinking.”
Bending, he lifted her. She held on obediently, this being a position she was accustomed to with him, her arms and legs wrapped around him.
He headed toward her bedroom, encouraging a kiss from her with a slight jerk of his chin. She eagerly complied, her limbs tightening around him, rubbing her naked sex against the roughness of his jeans as she did so. He groaned as his mouth foreshadowed the plundering he was about to do to her.
Mac laid her on the bed, not breaking their kiss. He leaned over her, an elbow braced beside her shoulder and one knee braced on the edge of the bed between her legs, his other foot solidly on the ground. He went to work unbuttoning the shirt she wore. Cassidy attempted to return the favor, seeking out the button to his jeans, but he pulled back, grasping her hands.
“Nope. Arms up,” he ordered.
She was perplexed, but she obeyed, slowly lifting her arms over her head. He gave her a heated smile making her shiver; she widened her legs with a slight hip roll, the invitation clear. His eyes darkened with an appreciative and knowing gleam. But he finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed the material aside, dropping his eyes from hers to admire her, literally on display for him.
He ran a hand upward from her hip, her body following the movement with an arch, drawing another grin from him. He reached for the necktie. He loosened it to pull it from her, letting the silky material trail across her sensitive skin as he discarded it, eliciting another shiver from her. She was now bared before him; her skin flushed, her chest rising and falling in anticipation, excitement. Her nipples strained forward. She stared at him as his eyes dragged over her, igniting her even further. Without even touching her, he devoured her, and it was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
So, when he laid his hand reverently on her abdomen, she moaned at the heat of his touch, again rising against him, wanting his hand lower and higher. Everywhere. She wanted him everywhere: covering her, filling her, claiming her.
Leaning in, he kissed her. Her arms came down and wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer as she used a heel on the bed to press herself against him. The scent of him ignited her senses; the roughness of his clothes, his tongue against hers, his mouth taking possession of hers. His hand sought her breast, pinching, rolling, and teasing a nipple while she shivered and writhed beneath him.
He nipped at her lips, her jawline. Teeth, lips, and tongue delighted her neck, pulling sighs from her. His mouth joined his hands at her breasts, which earned more shivers and moans, her fingers curling into his hair as her head tossed, her legs wrapping around his waist in silent pleading.
Mac shifted back, grasping her knees as he did so, pulling her legs from him. She caressed her fingers along his cheek as he lifted his head. He instructed again, “Arms up.”
Panic chased through her, afraid he would arouse her to this dizzying point and then leave her wanting. But she obeyed, her eyes laced with concern and yearning, her lips parting to draw in gasping breaths. When he removed her legs from him, bending them at the knees and setting her feet on the mattress, she protested, “Mac!”
He grinned, his dark eyes full of lustful promise as he settled himself between her knees. “Trust me.”
With that look and those words alone, she almost came. The throbbing need was unbearable at this point; she was in pain with want; she whimpered. She had to look away to keep herself from the deep dive.
“No, look at me,” he commanded.
Cassidy covered her face with her hands, not sure she could sustain this purgatory, being laid out before him, feeling everything about him except being touched by him. She let one hand slide to the mattress beside her head while she lowered her other to her mouth, biting her knuckle as she obeyed, watching him.
She noticed his brow quirk as he honed in on her gesture.
“Ah, fuck.” But he caught her eye, a clear intention there. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while.”
She was confused, and then surprised, when he grasped her thighs and pulled her buttocks up onto his thighs. Her legs lost purchase on the mattress as he hoisted her up, spread before him, the most vulnerable she’d ever felt, in a position she’d never experienced. She flung her arms out to the side, grasping on to the bedsheets as if she was going to lose her balance. “Wha—? Ohmigod!”
Mac raised a satisfied brow at her shocked reaction. When he trailed a finger up along her slit, she pulsed beneath him, her cheeks flaming red. She kicked her legs ineffectually, feeling as though she was on a ride she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on; the fear winning out over the excitement.
“Look at me!” he ordered.
Cassidy squeezed her eyes shut for the span of a few gasping breaths, then opened them again, looking at him. His eyes were on her, watching every second of her reaction, watching her come apart before he even did anything. She was aching for what he was about to do, mortified by her complete loss of control (as if that wasn’t a foregone conclusion when he touched her), but in the position he had her in, she had zero control.
He traced his finger up and down again, circling her swollen bud. The cry she let out resembled someone being tortured as she twisted her upper body away. Well, shewasbeing tortured; he was playing with her, driving her crazy with his lazy play. Pounding one fist on the mattress, she snapped out, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Watching you.” Another gentle circle of her clit ignited a full-body shudder. “Watching the way your body moves; you’re a fucking dream, Day.” He slid a finger inside of her, and she arched, calling out. “You feel like a fucking dream.”
Cassidy fought to suck in air at the simple intrusion, the thrusting hook of his finger, combined with the light pressure against her throbbing clit. “I’m going to… Oh god, Mac, I can’t…”
“Come as many times as you need to; this is more for me than you,” he invited cockily, increasing the intensity with which he thrust with his finger, adding a second, which elicited a dry sob.
Despite her proclamations, he kept her on edge without sending her over. Her entire body was taut, begging for release, a bow about to snap. The light sheen of exertion covered her; her limbs trembled, her head tossed, with fists clenching and unclenching the sheets. She’d tried to reach for him once but realized it was futile. She’d tried to reach for herself, to end her torment, but he’d thwarted her effort with a stern look as he tossed her hand aside.
Just when she was about to dissolve into tears, he floored her; good thing she was already laying down. Catching her gaze again, he very purposefully leaned forward, watching her watch him in disbelief as he lowered his mouth to her, his tongue flicking out first. And then his whole mouth followed: hot, sucking, moving slowly over her.
She couldn’t keep her eyes on his as her head fell back, her eyes rolling back, as her body exploded, the cry torn from her throat raw and guttural. He teased her clit, creating figure eights with his tongue, never spending too long to exhaust or over-stimulate to the point of release. He thrust inside her; he consumed her.