46. Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Six
Mac
I would say that the twitching is what woke me, but that’s a lie. It would’ve required me to have fallen asleep in the first place, and that’s not at all where my mind has been.
Instead, I’ve been stuck in that space between. Not quite cognizant, yet nowhere near under. That place between reality and dreams where nothing, and everything, makes sense.
Just falling without the end in sight, but no bungee cord to rip me back to reality either.
I find that I don’t much hate that space between, where things are easier. Lighter, even.
At least, until Jordan gives a full body jerk, the arm he had draped over me flinging out and smacking into the mattress beside him.
It’s what snaps me back, making me realize he’s covered in sweat, yet shaking. His skin has gone cool to the touch, his lids squeezed shut, his jaw ticking with its harsh grind.
“Jordan,” I whisper as I watch his eyes fly around behind his lids, the rest of his features pinching like he’s terrified of what he’s seeing. “ Jordan .”
My chest deflates when his hands grip tight on the sheet, and on me, and then he kicks at the air like he’s breaking down a barrier in his way.
Fuck, what do I do?
I’m frozen with indecision as I watch the pain twist up his features even more.
The fear.
The helplessness.
“Tyro, c’mon.”
With my stomach in my throat, I lean up and brace an arm next to his head, causing his hand to fall away from my hip easily.
The lack of contact seems to only make him worse, his head flinging from side to side, his breaths coming in deep and uneven.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck .
“Wake up. C’mon, wake up . ”
Snapping in front of his nose does nothing to bring him back.
I straddle his waist, hopeful the weight of me will bring him down.
All it does is pull the softest, yet most anguish-filled sound from somewhere deep in his psyche that my eyes start to burn.
Grabbing his shoulders, I shake him. “ Jordan !”
Navy blue eyes pop wide and terrified, unfocused and darting around until they finally settle on me.
“ Mac ,” he croaks out on a rasp that yanks my heart strings, and he shoots upright, crushing me in his arms. “Fuck, you’re okay.”
He’s shaking and clinging to me and my eyes burn for real when he keeps repeating the same thing.
You’re here. Fuck, you’re okay.
Like it’s a relief.
“I’m here,” I reassure him, my arms draping around his shoulders, my unbandaged hand finding his hair and fisting the strands. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs thickly into my neck, his lips dragging over my already too-fast pulse.
His words ease into a kiss along the thick vein, his tongue sneaking out to run the line down to my collarbone.
I shiver when his path leads back up to behind my ear, his breath still rushing out of him like part of him is stuck in the dream.
“Tell me you’re real, Vida,” he rasps. “ Fuck , show me you’re real . ” His teeth clamp onto my earlobe, sending shockwaves straight to my balls, and my grip tightens.
“I’m right here,” I murmur into his hair, mouth dropping open when he continues assaulting my neck.
His arms loosen their strangling hold on me, and I’m prepping myself to release him when his hands find my ass and squeeze.
“ Show me .”
The ache inside my chest ignites when he drags my hips forward, grinding us together.
“Please.”
It catches, burning hotter than orange coals at the thick plea cresting his lips.
“I need to feel you.”
That feeling becomes a raging inferno that obliterates all that I am and replaces me with a version that grinds right back against my bodyguard’s rigid cock.
All reservations vanished, vanquished alongside my need to reassure him.
“Tell me how,” I mutter, leaning back just enough to catch his blown gaze.
“ More ,” he breathes, his fingers dipping into the waistband of my shorts and tugging until my ass is free and his palms touch skin.
Gasping, I tug his hair when his fingers inch closer toward my crack, press my open mouth against his as the tips knead around my sensitive flesh, dipping closer and closer to the rim.
“More.”
A tip taps my hole, and I nearly shoot from his lap.
My gasps feed down his throat, his tongue snaking out to capture them and drag them back into his mouth.
I’m half aware that I should remind him about lube for that wandering finger when he pulls away, making me whine at the sudden chill that sets in.
“Open,” he demands on a pant against my mouth and before I can ask what the fuck he means, he’s shoving that finger between my lips, chasing the taste of his salty skin with his tongue.
Together, we wet the digit with sloppy kisses.
I’m not prepared when he pulls back just enough to shove a second one in, fucking them both in and out of my mouth.
It’s provocative and downright dirty enough that I nip at the pads and shiver when he pulls them free.
The chuckle that leaves his kiss-swollen lips seeps into my chest and nestles along some of the jagged edges.
But then the slippery tip presses against my hole and I jolt forward, slamming my lips to his.
I groan when he applies pressure, circling, his other hand pulling on my ass and spreading me open.
I’m so keyed up with the adrenaline and arousal coursing through my veins that it doesn’t take much for the muscle to give and his finger to pop just past that first ring.
I moan.
He moans.
“So tight, Vida. Fuck .” He drags in a shuttering breath against my open mouth and gives a testing pump. One out, then back in, and I’m already seeing stars. “Two?”
Shaking my head, I let it fall to his shoulder, my racing breath coasting over his now flushed skin. “To the knuckles and lube first, Tyro.”
He hums his understanding and pulls me so that my chest is flush with his and fucks that finger in and out of me until I take him to the knuckle.
I shudder when his fist meets my ass.
“Get the lube, Vida,” he murmurs against my neck, slowly easing his finger from inside me.
When I reach for the nightstand, his teeth latch onto my nipple, making me hiss. He licks away the sting, replacing it with the warmth of his lips as I coat his middle fingers.
Holy fuckhot, this is about to happen.
I’m shaking when he switches to my other nipple, giving it the same amount of attention as the first, and reaches behind me.
Wetness meets my hole at the same time his tongue soothes over his bite. Both circle around their target at the same leisurely pace, adding enough pressure to pull an audible breath from my lungs.
I’m two seconds from begging when his lips pop free, only to find mine and claim them just the same.
And with his hand to the back of my head, his tongue owning mine, Jordan presses his slick finger inside me.
We both groan.
“So fucking hot, Vida,” he rumbles, curling his tongue at the same time he curls his finger.
I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life when he adds the second lubed digit.
In and out, he fucks them into me, stretching me, driving me to the brink of insanity with just his calloused hands.
This can’t be real.
“Third?”
I nod.
My head arches back when I feel the extra pressure, the almost burn, my cock leaking from the fullness of it.
“More,” I pant, my nails finding purchase in his shoulders, my mind gone to anything except this .
Him.
More .
The telltale click of the lube bottle opening has my stomach clenching, the anticipation rolling right down my spine.
His fingers leave me, and I have only half a second to whine about it before he’s yanking me closer. Lifting my hips. Bumping my hole with—
My eyes snap open, landing on the intensity raging in his.
“Tell me you don’t want to go back, Mac.”
My breath hitches.
Stomach flips.
Needyouneedyouneedyou.
“I couldn’t,” I whisper. “Even if I wanted to.”
He notches against me, the plush head of his cock slowly, slowly pressing into me until my eyes are rolling back and my mind goes blank.
It pops past the tight muscle, and we groan deep in unison.
“Fuck, Mac. Fuck .”
I nod and press a little harder against his hold of me, fiending to feel the rest of him, desperate to take him as far as he’ll go.
His grip tightens, stalling my movements.
“Vida, you’re so goddamned tight,” he all but grinds out. “If you take all of me right now, I’m going to come.”
Good fucking God.
My lungs stutter and my cock jerks, adding to the wet spot growing on the front of my shorts.
“Gotta move, Tyro,” I murmur and roll my hips.
Cursing, Jordan loosens his hold just enough for me to take more of him.
He shutters out a groan and releases me completely to cinch an arm around my waist and bury his face in my neck.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps to my thrumming pulse as I rock against him, slowly stretching around his length, taking more and more of his cock.
“Jesus, fuck ,” I mumble and when my ass finally meets his lap, the breath punches out of him.
And me.
There’s a whole lot of not breathing happening.
It’s not until I grind down, taking him as far as I can go in this position that we both gasp.
No going back now.
My stomach clenches when Jordan’s sight clashes with mine, like maybe he’s thinking the same things as me, and his hands smooth down my thighs. They wander higher, dipping beneath the fabric, his callouses catching ever so slightly along the hair that dusts over my legs.
“Mac,” he nearly chokes out when I clench around him, and bunches the material in his hands. He pulls and collects it in his palms until my cock springs free, the tip glistening and nearing purple with how fucking hard I am.
This is it. This is how I die.