Chapter 27
FEE
Thankfully, the living room is empty when we get to Mac’s, so we don’t have to make nice with Brody and Gage and can go straight to his room.
The moment we’re alone and his door is closed, I turn to Mac, giddy with anticipation. “Can I take your shirt off?”
Mac’s dimple winks at me. “You’re really excited about the shirtlessness.”
“It’ll give me a chance to practice shadows and lighting.
” I slip my fingers under the hem, pulling it up to reveal his six-pack abs, one delightful ridge at a time.
“Also, you shirtless is a visual delight.” He bows forward, so I can pull the fabric over his head.
I drape it over his computer chair and run my hands through his hair to neaten the messy strands before I let my palms drift across his chest. This feels like foreplay, but better. More intimate.
“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” Mac’s voice is a deep rumble that echoes in my core.
That’s a loaded question. I survey his room, considering the space. “Your bed would be the most comfortable, and it’ll increase the perspective challenge, which I could use.”
“Okay.” He lithely hops up onto his bed and stretches out on his comforter, propping his cheek on his fist. “How’s this?”
“Great but holding that pose for any length of time will suck. Let me set everything up and then I’ll position you.”
I quickly arrange my easel and sketching pencils, then return to Mac. I adjust the pillows so he can recline against them and he moves into the space.
“I like watching you in your element,” he says gruffly.
“I like you watching me.” I lean in and kiss his cheek, then step back to make sure he’s positioned perfectly before I turn on the bedside lamp, creating shadows that lick at the dips and planes of his many muscles.
“Thanks for letting me do this.” I have an upcoming project that this would be perfect for, and the ideas are popping in my head like excited bubbles.
“Seriously, I love seeing you like this.”
I pause. “Like what?”
“Excited. You’re glowing. You’re gorgeous.”
“Well, you look delicious.” I grab my phone and snap a few pictures for reference when I’m rendering, and also because my boyfriend is hot, and he looks exceptionally yummy when he’s shirtless on his bed. “I can send you the link to one of Cammie’s fics to read while I sketch if you want.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
His phone pings and he pulls up the fic while I cue a quiet playlist and move to my easel. I start by outlining Mac’s general figure and the background elements as he scrolls the short story. I love that I can gauge his reaction without being sneaky.
His eyebrows pop every so often, and his cheeks flush as I quickly sketch his face, capturing his arched eyebrow, before I move on to his chest and shoulders. When I reach his waist, I note that the crotch of his pants has grown snugger. Which means he’s probably hit the spice.
“How do you like it so far?” I ask as I sketch his legs, working on the perspective.
“It’s definitely…detailed.” His voice is low and rough.
“Chase and Cammie practice a lot of her scenes before she writes them to make sure they’re possible,” I offer.
His eyes lift. “Is that right?”
I purposely avoided giving him one of the scenes where Aragorn was off on a quest. I hum my acknowledgement and turn back to my canvas, working on his crossed feet and the bed frame. “What part are you at?”
“Legolas is being taken care of…” He clears his throat. “Orally.”
“That scene is hot.”
“Agree.” Mac’s gaze returns to the screen and he continues to scroll, surreptitiously adjusting himself. His bottom lip slides through his teeth, hand moving to cover his erection, thumb sweeping absently back and forth.
Once I have the basic outline, I set the pencil down.
I have reference photos and can easily render it later.
But my boyfriend who brought me lunch because he knew I’d be so focused on my project I’d forget to eat is shirtless on his bed, sporting a hard-on.
I round the easel, but Mac is so engrossed in what he’s reading that he doesn’t register my approach.
I pull my hoodie—which happens to be his—and T-shirt over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, so now we match in nakedness. The mattress dips when I climb onto the end of the bed and Mac’s gaze lifts.
“Oh shit.” He drops the phone and reaches for me as I crawl over the comforter and straddle his thighs. “Are you done already?” His eyes dart between my face, the easel, and then snag on my breasts.
“Rough sketch is done. I’ll finish later.” I run a hand up his chest and pick up his phone with the other, scanning the text. “You got to the good part, huh?”
“How the hell do they test out the scenes when there are three people involved?” He frowns. “Wait, maybe I don’t want to know.”
“Toys,” I explain.
“Right. Fair. That makes sense.” He cups my breasts in his palms, thumbs sweeping over my nipples. His gaze lifts. “You have toys?”
“I do.”
“Do you use them a lot?” He kisses between my breasts.
“Often enough. Why?”
“Just curious.” He pushes my breasts together to create cleavage and lets my nipples peek out between his fingers. “Am I better than your toys?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“Yeah.” He closes his fingers, trapping my nipples between them, then leans in to lick the exposed tip. “I’m serious.”
“Do you prefer my hand or your hand on your cock?”
He scoffs. “Yours, hands down, pun not really intended.”
“Same. Your fingers are thicker, and longer and better. And I can’t really dirty talk to myself.”
“Mm. Good point.” He releases my breasts and cups my face in his hands, slanting his mouth over mine in a searing kiss.
I rock over his erection, and although layers of fabric mute the sensation, it still feels good. Especially when his thumbs brush the underside of my breasts, sending jolts of anticipation through me.
I trail a hand down his side and run my fingers along his waistband, seeking permission to move forward. “Can I make you feel good, Mac?”
“You’re already making me feel good.” He kisses along my jaw. “But I still want more of your hands on me.”
I pop the button on his jeans and slide back a few inches so I can pull the zipper down. His erection strains against his black cotton boxer shorts. Our gazes drop as I curve my hand around him through the fabric and stroke.
“Fuck, Fee, that feels good.”
“I can do better, though.” I slip my hand under the waistband and free him.
He’s thick and hard in my hand, the tip already weeping. Mac groans when I stroke him and smooth my thumb over the head.
“Mac.” I summon my inner Arwen and channel Mac’s bedroom chattiness.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He drags his gaze back up to mine, hot and needy.
“Do you want to know how my mouth feels?”
His jaw snaps shut and his nostrils flare.
“It’s okay if you’d rather I use my hand. I know it’s intimate.” I don’t want to pressure him. “But I would love to taste you.”
His teeth grind as he skims my bottom lip with his thumb. “You want me to fill this pretty mouth with my cock?”
My pussy clenches. “Please.” It’s mostly a moan.
He slips his thumb between my lips and I suck softly.
His top lip curls, eyes darkening with desire. “Since you asked so nicely.”
I hollow out my cheeks and gently scrape the pad of this thumb before releasing him. He helps me rid him of his jeans and boxers, and I move to kneel at the edge of the bed, just like Arwen did for Legolas—thank you Cammie for setting the scene for me.
“Here sweetheart, for your knees.” Mac moves to sit on the edge of the bed and tucks a pillow under me, then spreads his thighs to accommodate me. I run my hands up his thick, muscular thighs, taking in his gloriously naked form. He’s tall and lean, and right now he looks absolutely feral for me.
I keep my eyes on his as I curve my hand around his length and stroke him twice before leaning in to brush my lips over the crown.
“Fuck, Fee.”
Mac watches me as I leave wet, open-mouth kisses along the shaft. His lids are hooded, lips parted as I cover the head with my mouth. His hips jerk when I take more of him and he fists the comforter.
I pop off, lips moving against the head as I speak. “It’s okay to touch me.”
He lifts a shaking hand and skims my cheek. “I just want to stay in control.”
“What if I don’t want you to?” I kiss the head again. “Will you guide me, so I can learn what you like.”
“I’m holding on by a thread here,” Mac admits.
“Please?” I lick the bead of precum dripping down the tip. “I want to know what gets you hot.”
“You, Ophelia. You get me hot.” His jaw tightens and his eyes flash with heat.
I pull a line from Cammie’s fic. “I want to be your perfect girl, Mac.”
“Fucking hell, Fee.” He sits up and slides his hands into my hair. “You’re sure about this?”
The throb between my thighs tells me I’m absolutely positive. “Please.”
His fingers are gentle, but his expression verges on feral, like he’s struggling to keep himself in check. And I love that I do this to him.
He tentatively guides my mouth, careful not to go too deep. When I hum contentedly, he groans. So I do it again, louder this time.
His fingers tighten in my hair, so I suck him deeper, tonguing the head.
“So fucking pretty.” He shudders, jaw snapping shut, hips jerking forward. The head bumps the back of my throat, but I don’t stop, sucking noisily.
He pulls out, eyes wild as a line of spit connects from the tip to my bottom lip, then drips down my chin. He wipes the spit away, chest heaving.
I grin up at him, my hair still fisted in his hand. “Do you like it when I’m noisy?”
His cheek ticks. He’s silent a moment. “Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I think I do. A fucking lot.”
“And messy?”
“Uh huh.”
“Me, too.” I lick my lips. “You don’t have to be so gentle. I’ll tap your thigh if it’s too much.”
His eyes search mine and then his mouth is on mine, hard and demanding. He pulls back after a few rough strokes of tongue and grips his cock in his free hand. I open my mouth and he taps my bottom lip with the head before sliding back inside.