Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Rory
I’m in Mac’s bed and I can’t breathe. He just fucked my brains out and now I’m lying here, boneless, sweaty and panting. He is in a similar state beside me.
The wind is howling against the walls. Far below us, the North Sea is crashing against the chords of the rig. Metal is clanging. The rig is humming. But here, in this cabin with Mac, I feel perfectly safe. Cozy, warm and content.
The ache I felt in my chest since seeing him alone in the mess hall has gone. This is better. This is right. This is the antidote to being across the room from him and leaving him in solitude.
I roll onto my side and snuggle up to him, pressing my body to every inch of his that I can reach. I rest my head on his broad shoulder and fling my arm over his delightfully hairy chest.
My lungs freeze. Oh. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? We never agreed to this kind of intimacy.
The universe pauses for a nanosecond, then Mac wraps his arm around me and pulls me even closer.
My lungs exhale in a happy sigh. This is nice. Snuggling is nice.
Is snuggling a hookup thing? Is it a gay thing? I have no idea. I’m pretty sure that Mac and I have already strayed far from any rules, and are making our own up.
I wonder if Mac hates that?
I tilt my head and look up at him. He doesn’t look as if he is hating anything. He does look tired, though. There are dark circles under his eyes.
Guilt twists through me. Days on the rig are long. The work is hard. Sleeping and resting are important, but we have been doing little of either. I’m still young enough to shrug it off, mostly, but Mac is paying a price.
Suddenly, I’m sliding up the bed. Mac is dragging me closer to him with apparent ease. His strength is impressive. Did he discern my thoughts about me tiring him out, and decided to prove me wrong? If so, it’s a very effective demonstration.
His lips close over mine and my brain just stops. All thoughts cease. Nothing but peace and Mac, and arousal renewing, stirring and thrumming through my veins.
I am kissing him back with enthusiasm. My hand drifts over his well-defined chest. My hand moves lower and finds his cock. My fingers curl, and I stroke him gently. He is mostly soft, but already filling just from our kiss.
That’s something to be proud of. It wasn’t long ago we finished round one, and here he is, already wanting me again. Despite his lack of sleep and his increased physical exertion.
Guilt swirls again. He may be strong and keen, but it really isn’t fair of me to let him do all the hard work.
With that thought in mind, I pull away from our kiss. I stare into his heated, dark eyes. I’m even more breathless now.
“Can I ride you?” I blurt out before I’ve thought it through, because, well, I am me and this is who I am.
The expression on Mac’s face is priceless, as well as extremely gratifying. He stares at me for a heartbeat, then he explodes into motion, scrambling for the half-empty box of condoms on the bedside cabinet.
I snort out a laugh, sit up, and snatch the condom from him. I grip the foil wrapper with my teeth and attempt to tear it off in a sexy manner.
It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe, how condoms, a thing exclusively for sex, can be so deeply unsexy.
However, I think I manage a fairly decent job of it. It’s either that or Mac’s wide eyes are him attempting not to laugh at me. But that’s fine, because honestly, making Mac laugh would be every bit as good as making him horny.
I attempt a sultry stare as I turn my attention to his cock, which is now fully hard and proudly standing to attention. It’s a sight that burns my sultry attempt away and leaves me grinning like an idiot.
Oh well, I am who I am. And sultry seducer, is not it. Mac seems to like me anyway, and that’s the only thing that matters.
Diligently and carefully, I roll the condom down Mac’s length.
It doesn’t feel weird at all to touch a dick that’s not mine, and that is probably a fact that warrants some reflection, but right now I don’t care.
I want Mac, in a carnal, biblical way, and that is that. It doesn’t need to be complicated.
Humming happily, I reach for the lube. Then I gently smear it all over Mac’s condom-covered cock.
That should do. He rearranged my guts a few minutes ago. I’m still all open and lubed. Ready to go. No waiting necessary. The absolute best way.
Grinning, I swing a leg over Mac and straddle him. He looks up at me and he looks damn fine like this. Lying on his back, tanned skin against the white sheets. All his muscles on proud display. This mountain of a man beneath me. My very own geographical feature.
Slowly, I start taking his cock. Sliding down his length, feeling him slip back inside me, filling the emptiness I have felt acutely since he pulled out ten minutes ago.
That’s better, so much better. Being stuffed with Mac’s cock is the best feeling in the world. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to go hours without it. It really isn’t fair.
Mac’s large hands rest on my hips. Not controlling, not guiding. Just there. Holding me reverently.
A gasp pours out of me as I sink lower. I’m fully seated and I can feel him deeper inside me than ever before. It’s amazing.
My body moves, taking control. Exulting in a dance I didn’t know I knew. And just like that, I’m riding Mac, and it is glorious. His cock is hard, hot, deep and mine. I rock down, pushing him deeper. I rise up, and the drag over my insides as he slides out is exquisite.
I ride and ride, and yell and yell. The rough weather is taking my cries far away. I’m a part of nature, a wild, free thing. A gale is raging and Mac and I are fucking and it feels so right. This, this is living. This is how things are meant to be. This is everything that has been missing.
This is Mac.
My thighs are beginning to hurt. But I can cope. Though I have never been more glad that I have a physical job. That said, I have newfound inspiration to hit the gym. Every day. Lots of squats. So many squats. I need to be able to do this for hours.
I pick up the pace. I moan. Mac groans. Pleasure floods every inch of my body and soul. Flesh slaps against flesh. The wind sings.
Mac’s dark eyes watch me. Staring at me as if I’m something holy. A gift. A blessing.
I stare back at him. His cheeks are flushed. His jaw is magnificent. I’m caught in his gaze and I can’t look away. I don’t want to. Right here is my favorite place.
He looks at me, and I can see all of him. Beyond the grumpy man who holds everyone to high standards, especially himself. When he is like this, I can see his kindness, his quiet, his gentle nature. His deep intelligence. I can see his pain that he bears so nobly. His loneliness.
And I can see that he sees me. Not the funniest man on the rig, not a clueless deckhand on his first rotation. He sees Rory. All of me and all that I am.
When I look into his eyes, this doesn’t feel like hooking up. It doesn’t feel remotely casual. I feel like I’m baring my soul and it feels perfect. And there is a light in Mac’s eyes that’s as ethereal as the Northern Lights but a thousand times more beautiful. A light that looks like love.
My orgasm starts to boil over. I cry out and my muscles go lax and weak, just when I need them most.
Mac’s hands tighten on my hips. He thrusts up, into me. He does it again and again. Bucking up off the mattress. Strong. Manly. Confident. Driving his cock deep into me over and over again with ruthless unending efficiency.
I’m pretty much just bouncing helplessly on his cock. My thighs have turned to jelly. Pleasure and sensation are burning through me, I’m on fire. I’m sobbing with the intensity.
I start to cum. I don’t stop sobbing. I’m shuddering and cumming and sobbing and completely and utterly overwhelmed. It is magnificent.
Mac thrusts a few more times, jerky, stuttering and uncoordinated. He grunts, long and low. Shudders as he fills the condom. I feel the heat of it and whimper as the sensation shoots another blast of euphoria through me.
Mac yanks me down, pulling me flush against his chest. His hand tangles in my hair and angles my face toward him. He kisses me, savagely and deeply. As if he is still desperate for me. I kiss him back, matching his hunger, while my toes curl and my stomach swoops.
It’s official. I have never been happier.