Close Quarters #3
Mack lets me take the lead, his hands sliding to rest light on my hips. I reach between us and wrap my fingers around him, guiding the fat crown to my entrance, and then I sink down one inch.
The stretch is immediate and brutal, so much worse than Nico.
I wince, my breath catching hard in my throat, my body straining to open around something it isn't built to take.
"It’s okay. You can take it." Mack's fingers tighten on my hips, holding me steady, his green eyes locked on my face. "Take your time. We've got all the time in the world."
I breathe through it, sinking down another inch, then another, letting my body adjust to the impossible size of him. He watches me the whole way down, his jaw tight with the effort of holding still.
But he's so big, and my body keeps stalling out, and I want all of him. I want it more than the burn scares me.
"It’s okay," Mack whispers, his voice raw as he takes in the pain in my eyes. "We don’t have to do this. We can—"
I plant my hands on his shoulders, and I drop.
I slam my hips down and take the last few brutal inches in one stroke. A sharp cry tips out of me. The stretch flares white-hot, too much, too fast, and my chin quivers as tears spring to my eyes. But he's inside me.
All of him, buried to the root, and I fucking did that.
Mack's big body locks. A vicious snarl rips out of him, his fingers clamping down on my hips, his head dropping back against the couch.
"Fuck!" The word punches out of him, wrecked. "Fuck, Lyra, you can't—" He sucks in a ragged breath, trembling all over. "You are so damn tight."
I try to smile at his words, but I'm so full I can barely think.
"Good lord." He licks his lips, still breathing hard. "I'm not gonna last long. You feel too good, and I'm barely hanging on as it is."
And the thought of him not being able to control himself does something wonderful inside me.
I start to move.
Slow at first, small rolls of my hips, adjusting the shape of him inside me, and Mack lets me set the pace, murmuring low the whole time.
"That's it." His fingers push into the curve of my hips. "God, you feel perfect." He looks down at where he’s stuffed inside me. "Look at all that slick," he whispers like he’s in awe.
I keep moving, and the burn eases with every roll, melting into something hot and deep and good. I still feel the occasional sting, but it mixes with the drag of his cock, making my clit pulse. I chase the feeling, riding him harder, my hands braced flat on the broad muscle of his chest.
Then Mack’s restraint snaps.
His grip tightens on my hips, and he takes over. He guides me up and pulls me back down, faster, until I'm bouncing on his cock, my breasts jolting with every stroke. He watches them for half a second, then leans in and catches one nipple in his mouth.
And he's rougher than Nico and Owen were.
Mack nips at the sensitive peak, catching it between his teeth, sucking hard enough to make me cry out and buck against him. It should be too much, but it's exactly enough.
I fist my hands in his hair and hold his mouth to my chest and ride him harder, wild with it now, the coil in my belly winding tight.
"Mack," I snarl his name. "I'm close. Don’t stop. I'm—"
The base of him begins to swell fast, thickening inside me with every drive of his hips.
My body reacts before my mind can, grinding down onto him harder, greedy for his knot, desperate to be locked to him. I don't understand the need, I just feel it, this frantic drive to take all of him, to be knotted and full and his.
"That's it," Mack growls against my breast. "I feel you. You're right there."
His hands leave my hips and grip my shoulders instead. He uses the hold to force me down, pulling me onto him as his knot swells past the point of pulling free. The stretch flares sharp and enormous, and I sob at how much it is.
Then it pops into place, locking us together.
And I come.
An orgasm rips through me at the exact moment his knot punches inside me.
I feel the first hot pulse of him, then another, his cock jerking against my walls, filling me in thick, endless spurts.
The heat of it floods through me, wet and deep and overwhelming, and I clench around his knot and wring another pulse out of him, both of us shaking.
He comes so much I swear my belly swells with it, warm and full, marking me from the inside out.
"Fuck," Mack breathes against my skin, wrecked. I can feel his chin quiver, and I wonder if he wanted to mark me. "Fuck, Lyra."
Then his arms come all the way around me, gathering me in, and every rough edge of him softens at once. He pulls me down against his chest and tucks my face into the warm curve of his neck, holding me like something precious, his heartbeat slamming against mine.
I nuzzle into him, rubbing my cheek against his skin, coating myself in that warm hazelnut scent until I'm drenched in it. His hand strokes slow up and down my spine, and his knot pulses gently inside me once more, keeping us locked together, keeping me exactly where I want to be.
I let my eyes fall shut.
Full of him, wrapped in my new mate’s arms, safe.
Mine.