Very faintly, I nod.
Mack takes that as his cue to pull my shirt off over my head, leaving just my panties. I move to take them off, but he stops me. “Leave them on,” he growls. “I want to feel them against my cock when I’m inside you.” He leans forward and gathers me into his arms, pulling his own shirt off as he lifts me up and carries me over to the soft sheepskin rug in front of the guest house fireplace. When I reach for his cock, I find it’s already hard. I fumble with his jeans, and he pulls them off, grabbing my hands and turning me so I’m on my hands and knees in front of the fireplace. I close my eyes, losing myself in his warmth, his scent. Hands grasp me squarely on the waist. Fingers trail up my body and find my breasts again, moving lower and lower until I feel a hand between my thighs, brushing gently over my sex and filling me with an undeniable longing.
There’s no getting away from this for either of us. Both of our lives have been building to this one inevitable moment. And here we are, finally lost in it.
Mack’s fingers pull my panties to the side, his thumb making its way down my slick folds and back over my clit in repeated circles. Each time, he brings me closer to orgasm and then backs off, leaving me anxious for his next touch, hungry for more. I haphazardly remind myself that I’m on birth control, that Mack is clean. I’m still sure I shouldn’t be doing this, but with each skilled touch, I fall farther into my need and farther away from all sense of reason.
When I feel his cock at my entrance, I’m already so wet that the head slips right in. I look over my shoulder to see Mack, hands wrapped around my waist, sighing as he pushes himself further inside me. His gaze doesn’t leave my face as he enters me, inch by inch, slowly filling me. I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and I didn’t realize it until this very night. I moan slightly, warmth rising over my body, filling me and spreading out to every cell, every fiber of my being. Wired—that’s the feeling I have, even though he woke me from deep sleep. Pausing, he brings his hands to my breasts and teases my nipples, making me grow wetter, more ready for his formidable length and thickness.
Time slows down, and I let out a deep, frustrated moan. “Come on, baby. Make me come.”
He closes his eyes, sighing and pushing his full length inside. Looking back down to the floor, I can feel myself stretching to take him in fully—there’s discomfort, followed by pleasure so intense that I almost come right then. His cock is swollen, hard, hitting places inside that I never dreamed were so sensitive.
“So tight, so sweet,” he groans, picking up his rhythm. His hand reaches around to find my clit as he enters me again and again, stimulating the tiny bundle of nerves, sending chills up and down my spine, sparks flying through each nerve.
“You’re going to make me come, baby,” I cry out as he rides me, the base of his cock hitting against my soaked panties. The orgasm rises in me and then builds in intensity, never stopping, never slowing down as he comes inside of me, thrusting hard from behind and filling me to completion. I realize I’ve been gripping the rug, nails buried deep in the thick, soft wool.
After he thrusts one last time, he slumps against me, and we both fall to the floor. Macklin pulls me into his arms, holding me against his muscular body. It’s been so long since I’ve seen all of him—the thick, sculpted muscles, the washboard of his abdomen. He’s always been huge, but he’s maintained himself with utter perfection. Since he’s quit drinking, he seems even more svelte. I let my hands linger over the ridges of his abdomen, the tight roundness of his ass.
Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?
My body is still on fire from him, and now I realize that I’ll keep that feeling with me as long as I’m anywhere near him.
The emotions I’m feeling tangle inside me like an angry swarm of bees—guilt for taking this job and then letting my nostalgia affect my judgment, shame at not seeing Kinley’s scheming as we got farther into this mess, and happiness, finally being with the man I always wanted.
Mack washes all the worry and concern away when he rolls me to my back and kisses me again, deeply, drawing my bottom lip in.
The tingling sensation takes over my body again, and I submit to my desire. Mack’s insistent length is already pressing against my thigh, and there are so many ways we haven’t yet explored each other’s bodies. For now, I let our problems fade for a moment and take him in before I have send him home to his own place so no one catches on.
There are so many questions left unanswered… but what harm could we do right here, just the two of us? Even as I ask the question part of me is aware I'm lying to myself. What harm could we do? A lot of it. We could end Mack's career. We could end my career. I just can't say no to him. Being away in California was the only thing that allowed me to tell myself such a laughable thing. Now that I have to be around him again, it's all come back in a flood of memories, sensations, old longings I thought had been left tin the past a long time ago.