9. Maya
Chapter nine
Maya
P eople who truly know me would never describe me as a rule breaker. But as Mack presses the keycard to the lock on the hotel room door and the little light flashes green, I embrace the identity, at least for tonight. Mack knew better than I did how badly my body needed a massage, and now, it’s more relaxed than it’s been in years. It’s also humming with an aching need only this man can satisfy.
“Ready?” he murmurs, pocketing the key, his molten green gaze pinned on me.
One and done, that’s the agreement we forged minutes ago. And right now, I don’t want to think about tomorrow. Don’t want to consider the ramifications of sleeping with Mack. For once, I want to live completely in the moment. To not do the safe, predictable thing.
“I’m always ready,” I reply with a sassy smile as I reach for the door handle.
But his hand flies to mine, covering it and stilling the motion. I look up to find one of his wicked grins curling up the corner of his lips. “Good.”
Without warning, he bends down and, using one arm, scoops around my knees, lifting me easily and tossing my hips over his shoulder, my ass high in the air.
“Mack!” I protest, laughter bubbling up from my chest as I grab hold of his belt for support. The brute. “Put me down.”
He ignores my demands, kicking the door shut behind him as we enter the room.
“With pleasure,” he growls, flipping on a light and heading straight for the bed. On the way there, he tugs off my shoes one at a time, dropping them to the floor. Once he’s standing next to the king bed, Mack leans forward. I think he’s going to toss me like a sack of potatoes onto the mattress. Instead, he keeps his hands firmly on my body, holding me tight against him, and guides me down the front of his towering frame one heavenly inch at a time.
When my bare feet hit the mattress, I straighten, and for once, I’m taller than him, if only by a few inches. “I like the view from up here,” I murmur, gazing down at him, my arms wrapped around his thick neck.
“Me, too.” He sinks his face against my shirt, between my breasts.
My nipples harden, and a shiver of anticipation shoots to my core. I hold him to me, my fingers working through his unruly red hair. But I barely have time to think before he draws back enough to reach for the bottom of my shirt. “You look gorgeous tonight, sweetheart. But nothing’s going to stop me from getting you naked.”
Before I know it, my shirt is on the floor and my bra is undone, Mack’s calloused fingers sliding the straps over my shoulders. I automatically cross my arms to cover my bare breasts, knowing how small they are compared to most of the women he’s probably been with.
As if he can read my mind, Mack leans forward to nuzzle beneath my forearm, nudging it aside.
“You’re perfect, love,” he murmurs as his mouth finds my nipple, drawing it deep into his warm mouth.
Love? Surely, the endearment slipped out accidentally. Surely, he didn’t mean it. But as Mack’s hands stroke languidly down my bare back, still slick from the massage oil, it feels as if I’m the most precious thing he’s ever held. And once again, without even trying, this man is stealing under my walls and crushing my defenses.
A moan escapes my lips, and when he shifts to the other breast, nibbling gently, I’m forced to grip his shoulders for balance, my breath coming hard and fast. But he’s there, rooted beneath my fingers, supporting me, as he always is. Mack’s presence is overwhelming my senses, short-circuiting the synapses firing in my brain. He’s so big and strong and steady and safe, but a fissure of concern knots my stomach because what’s happening here, between us tonight, is more than physical. It’s confirmation I want to be the woman in his arms. Always.
But I can’t.
A laugh rumbles out of him against my sensitive skin when I abandon his shoulders to drop to my knees and tug at his shirt, eager to satisfy the desire that’s thrummed in my body since I walked into the station that afternoon and spotted him, and that breathtaking grin, across the bay.
He lets me drag his shirt over his head, but before I can explore, his gigantic hands grab my waist and toss me back on the bed. I gasp but can’t catch my breath because Mack climbs over me, filling my entire view. And it’s glorious. Red curls sprinkle across his chest and trail south down abs that ripple like the reinforced panels of turnout gear. His biceps are flexed as he peers down at me, his gaze no longer teasing, his green irises barely visible around dilated pupils, leaving no doubt how much he wants me.
Which he proves by kissing me as if his life depends on it. Unlike the desperate kiss in the elevator, this one starts achingly slow as if he’s memorizing every sensation. Mack’s lips brush mine with a reverence that makes my heart stutter, each gentle touch building the tension in my core like a slow-burning fuse. I trace my fingers up and down the planes of his back as his tongue teases the seam of my lips, asking permission rather than demanding it. And when I open to him, he groans, the sound vibrating through me, the hair on his chest rubbing against my nipples.
Our tongues tangle, and I’m lost in the taste of him. He adjusts the angle of his head, deepening the kiss as he simultaneously presses his knee, tucked between my legs, up against my core. I grind against it, my panties soaked as I search for friction against his denim clad quad, my ass lifting off the bed as my primal instincts take over.
As if he knows exactly what I need, Mack lowers himself, flattening me against the white comforter. The pressure is exquisite, better than any sensation I’ve ever felt. I’m wedged between the cool, slick bedding and his warm, hard body. But he’s holding back, not giving me his full weight, not trusting me to take it.
“Crush me,” I murmur against his lips, pulling him down toward me.
With a chuckle and a slight shake of his head, he drops one more kiss onto my lips then releases his elbows and knees, letting his entire frame trap me. The breath is squeezed from my lungs, and I close my eyes, relishing the sensation of being pinned, helpless under him. It’s not something I would have ever imagined I’d love, but with Mack, I do.
After a minute, he presses up, shifting to one side to regard me.
“Like that, did you?” he asks, although I can tell he already knows the answer.
I lift a shoulder. “Who knew?”
He licks along my collarbone to the pulse point at the base of my neck. “Mmm, Maya, you ceding control, your tight little body under mine? I liked it, too, but we’re just getting started.”
“Just getting started?” I ask. “We agreed…one and done.”
“One night, not one time,” he says, the delicious correction murmured against my skin as he shifts down, making quick work of removing the rest of his clothes and mine.
Oh, okay.
“After all, I’ve gotta get you ready,” he adds, crawling back toward me.
He’s right. A single glance at his generous length has me wondering how I’ll ever fit all of him inside me. But before I can give it another thought, his mouth is gliding up my thigh, heading toward the slick seam between my legs.
“Mack,” I cry as he buries his face, his tongue licking its way to my clit and settling in as if he’s not going anywhere, anytime soon. But I will not last long, especially when he adds a single thick finger, then another, sliding them deep and massaging against me until I’m clawing at the sheets, my toes curling as I fight against the powerful orgasm building in my core. A climax I’m powerless to stop.
Within seconds, I’m bucking against his face, his arm clamped across my stomach holding me down as he keeps going, licking and sucking and not letting up for even a heartbeat, despite my pleas, until finally, he’s wrung every last tremor from my body and I’m a quivering puddle.
It takes a minute for me to return from the orbit Mack rocketed me into.
“That was…” I start, trailing off because I can’t find words to describe the way I, for the first time ever, completely lost myself in the moment with a man.
I gaze down at him through lowered lashes and find Mack looking entirely too pleased with himself as he swipes his mouth with the back of his hand but then seems to sober as he plants a kiss on my inner thigh. “You’re the one making my dreams come true, darling.”
My heart hammers in my chest but rather than respond, I reach down and take hold of him, enjoying the way he sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes squeezed shut. I wrap one hand around his hot, throbbing length, my fingers and thumb barely meeting as I stroke from base to tip.
His hips rock, and through clenched teeth, he murmurs, “Sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“Tell me about it.” I bend, wanting a taste of him, but as if I weigh nothing, Mack lifts me and presses me back, against the mattress.
I frown, but he shakes his head. “I couldn’t take even a kiss from you down there right now.”
Power surges through me at how this giant of a man is coming undone at my touch, and it’s intoxicating.
A flurry of cool air skates across my heated skin and the bed shifts as he rises, digging in the pocket of his jeans for a foil packet.
“I hope you got extra large,” I tease, watching him squeeze the tip and roll the condom down his length.
He chuckles and flashes me a grin. “And here, I thought I was the funny one.”
I lift a shoulder. “I have my moments.”
“Darling,” he says, gazing down at me, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that steals my breath, “You’re a lifetime of moments.”
Oh.
Oh, no.
Surely, he’s just caught up in the moment, right? But I’m still trying to ignore the way my heart pounds at his words when he climbs back over me and presses a kiss to my parted lips, bringing me back to the present. I’m eager to fill the ache throbbing in my core and wriggle against him, my legs wrapped around his ass. But I freeze when I catch sight of the lines of tension on his face, revealing how hard he’s working to hold back.
“We need to go slow,” he says. “If it’s too much, you need to let me know, alright?”
I press a quick kiss to his lips. “I promise.”
My pledge does the trick, and before I know it, the head of his cock is edging inside me. A measured thrust of his hips, and instantly, the sensation is overwhelming. Every cell in my body is concentrated on where we’re joined. I grab hold of his biceps, my insides being stretched in the best possible way. Mack’s going slow, letting my body adjust to his size, but rather than satisfying me, the pace is teasing, only giving me a taste of what I want, what I need.
“Mack,” I urge, my nails digging into his muscles. “Please.”
He eases forward another inch. I want nothing more than for him to lose control, to thrust deep and fill me, giving it to me hard and rough. I arch my back, my gaze lifting past him to the ceiling.
“More?” he grinds out through gritted teeth, as if he’s unsure I can take it.
“More. Now,” I demand.
“Yes, ma’am.” His hips roll into mine and force my legs to spread as wide as they can go. Powerful thrusts shake the bed, and I hold on tight. But rather than feeling threatened with Mack looming over me, pounding me, filling me, it feels… empowering. And perfect. Which proves more than anything how much I’m gone for this man. How much I’ll hurt like hell tomorrow because this burly redhead, with a kind heart and a quick smile, has worked his way under my skin and into my heart without even trying. Especially when he delivers another earth shattering orgasm before he comes deep inside me and collapses onto me again.