Page 83 of Make Me Want it Too

His erection is digging into the back of my thigh and when I shift a little in his lap, he lets out a soft whimper and tightens his hands on my hips.

I like that he’s hard. I want to think it’s not just from the sexual act he just performed on me, but for me, specifically. That I turn him on. Because I’m still turned on, overheated, and achy for more.

I slide off his lap to the bed. He loosens his hold on me, letting me go, but his brows knit together in protest.

“Are you good?” he asks.

I nod, but I can’t take my eyes away from the bulge in his pants.

“Can I see it?” I ask.

He tilts his head, then looks down to where his hard-on is straining against his waistband. “You want to see my cock?”

The pulsing between my legs has come back full force, and I squeeze my thighs together to subdue it.

“Yes,” I whisper, looking up at him.

He gazes down at me, lips parted, chest rising and falling quickly, pupils dilated.

I get up on my knees as he stands next to the bed, undoing his belt. He undoes the button, then the zipper. Then his pants are in a pile on the floor and he’s standing there in only tight, black boxer briefs.

His skin is smooth and tan, glistening over the swells of his muscles. His shoulders are broad, his hips narrow, and his thighs are thick and strong.

“Come here,” he says, raspy.

I crawl to the edge of the bed and look up at him, mouth open.

He hooks his thumb into his waistband and pushes them down as he fists himself with his other hand and pulls it out.

His cock is long and thick. Beautiful. Smooth but with a couple veins corded down to the perfectly proportioned head. It’s pink with a clear drop of precum at the tip, getting bigger and then starting to trail down the seam.

Without thinking, I lean forward and lick the drop of liquid from his shaft and follow it up to the opening, where more is leaking out as Wood whimpers above me. The sound is heady. Intoxicating. Empowering.

I never sucked Spencer’s cock. He adamantly didn’t want me to. He didn’t give oral either. I’m still not sure why—maybe something about the cleanliness of it, or maybe the submissiveness of it. I had convinced myself that I didn’t mind. Didn’t need it. And that I wasn’t really into giving anyway, so it was a fair trade. I didn’t miss it.

But here, right now, just having the head of Wood’s cock in my mouth is making me throb and ache and I want to. I want to pleasure him and feel him and have him whimpering at my mercy.

And I want more. I want him inside me.

I take him all the way in, making him say, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath.

So I start sucking him off. He rocks his hips, mirroring my movements and holding the back of my head lightly with his hand and cursing and encouraging me.

His cock is impossibly bigger and harder than before, dark pink and shiny. His precum is slightly salty, slightly sweet on my tongue, and my own wetness is dripping between my thighs.

I pull back, letting him slip from between my lips. “I want you,” I say, looking up at him.

He’s breathing hard, abs tensed, eyes wild on me. “You have me. I’m all yours, fuck, Mace.”

“No. I want you inside me.”

CHAPTER 16

WOOD

Macy goes back to sucking my cock, looking up at me with those big, brown eyes as she does it. The sight alone is enough to make me come.

“You want me to fuck you, Mace?”

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