Cassidy wrapped her legs around him and tightened her hold on him. “Don’t. Don’t leave me. Stay inside me.” She closed her eyes again, the heat of him inside her warming her, comforting her; this was right, this is what she wanted. Just a taste, and her addiction was back in full force. But this had been more than a taste.
“I hurt you.”
“No.”
“I heard you.” He moved, pressing his forehead to her collarbone, not looking at her. “I tasted your tears.”
“You surprised me,” she whispered. “Your… you… you moved so fast.” She caressed his back, the divots of his tortured flesh, turning her head to kiss his temple.
He shifted again.
“No, please,” she begged. “Stay inside me, Mac.”
He lifted his head, staring down at her, bemused, searching. “Day…”
Looking up into his painted face, which should have scared her but didn’t, she raised her hand to his cheek and said again, “Please. I want to feel you grow hard inside me. I’ve missed you, Mac. I know I’m not supposed to say it, but I have.”
“I’m not what you need.”
“You’re what I want,” she responded in a breathless whisper.
He moved his hand from her breast to cover her mouth. “Don’t say it again.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. But it was true. It’d been true. And this was their moment for truth; she’d felt it, heard him. She wanted him as desperately, violently, and passionately as he’d just taken her, and with the same amount of heartache.
Mac, as she’d noted before, was an addiction. One she didn’t want to rid herself of—couldn’t.
One he didn’t want her to have.
Never had.
Her lips trembled beneath his hand as greater tears threatened.
“No,” he pleaded. He moved again, careful not to lose their connection. Sliding a hand beneath her hips, he lifted them both, pulling her out of the mud as he sat back on his knees. She held on, grinding into him to ensure he stayed in her until he settled.
“No tears, sweetheart, I’ve caused you enough pain.” With one arm around her lower back, anchoring her to him, he pushed back her now-muddied hair from her face.
Cassidy could only look back at him. The pain he was causing was from rejecting her, his words. He was inside her and telling her not to want him; he didn’t want to hear it from her. Leaning into him, she hugged him close as she rolled her hips against him, pressing her face to his neck. She parroted words back to him from months ago, “Don’t get to tell me what I think.”
She didn’t know if it was the sass in her voice, the roll of her hips, or the alignment of stars in that precise moment, but he grew inside of her; it was the most satisfying feeling ever, his heat and iron-hardness stretching her from within. She shivered in delight, which resulted in an approving moan from him.
Mac grasped the hem of her flimsy and now filthy camisole and ripped it over her head, ridding them of the material. He then reached down and grabbed the back of her panties, giving the material a hearty yank, as well, divesting her of the last cloth that stood as a barrier between them.
Both naked, he grasped the back of her head and kissed her hard before releasing her. He moved his legs out from under them, falling back on his hands, his face a blank mask behind the paint as he ordered, “Fuck me.”
Cassidy almost came right then and there at his brusque order, the sinister illusion with his eyes glittering out at her. He was primal, authoritarian, dominant, and it turned her the hell on even if it did give her a small fright—and that was what thrilled her the most, the unexpected.
Biting her lower lip, she ran her hands over his hard, muddied chest and began to move slowly over the length of him. She watched his eyes narrow as he watched her back for a moment, then slide down to her breasts, her stomach, then down to where they connected; a low grumble of pleasure escaped him as she continued to roll her hips.
She leaned forward to tease him with her nipples, nipping at his chin, trying not to grimace at the taste of the greasy substance decorating his face, rotating her hips and grinding down before sliding back up. His grunt, the jerk of his body, letting her know his appreciation of her efforts. His jaw tensed, and his nostrils flared as his eyes blazed into hers.
He met her kiss ferociously, biting back, able to take control even though he wasn’t touching her, his hands still firmly planted on the ground. Cassidy collapsed against him with a moan, arms going around his neck as she rode him, the exquisite sensations firing off in her body exploding in her brain.
She couldn’t get close enough to him; she couldn’t get him deep enough in her.
With a frustrated sob, she pleaded, her head against his chest, “Touch me, Mac!”
He nipped her ear. “No.Fuckme, Day. Harder.”