Page 66 of The Chance

Reaching for him, I ghost my lips over his as I work my way around the towel still clinging to his waist.

“Jordan,” he warns.

Tugging on the terrycloth, I pop free its tuck.

“Mac,” I growl right back and wrap my fist around his hard cock. It’s smooth to the touch, yet all solid steel beneath the soft skin.

His head tips, his eyes rolling back as a breath burst past his lips and rushes over my face.

“Fuck,” he grinds out to the ceiling.

I ignore the way my cock pulses and instead focus on running the pad of my thumb over the root of him, my grip solid along his length.

“You can still take it back,” he murmurs on a tremble, the cords of his neck taut. “You don’t have to do this.”

His throat bobs with a swallow that I lean in and lick.

“Yeah. I do.”

Giving him one long stroke pulls a glorious sound from deep in his chest, but when I twist my fist over his plush crown, he covers my palm in precum.

“Jordan,” he rasps out in another warning. “I won’t be able to go back if you don’t stop.”

“Then don’t.”

A growl rips out past his lips, and he lunges.

Hands fisting my hair, his cock punches through my fist as he walks me back until it’s my ass hitting the counter hard enough that the shit behind me clatters over.

All the while, his sight sears into mine with liquid heat and enough desire to make my cock keep pulsing.

“Kiss me, Jordan,” he demands. “Stroke me.Shitfuck, just goddamntouch me.”

I grab the back of his neck and yank him in until our chests clash and his breath rushes out. “As you wish.”

Pushing off from the counter, our mouths crash together, tongues tangling as I pin him back.

His whimpers feed right down my throat, fueling me to release his neck and fumble around behind him.

When the round container hits my fingers, I sink my teeth into his bottom lip.

He hisses.

Suckling on the bite grants me another glorious groan and a punch of his hips.

“I want to see you,” he pants out, tugging on my hair to bring my sight to his. “Fuck, lemme see you.”

My chuckle is deep and dark as I free my hands and reach for my fly.

He’s panting as his head dips, watching as I pop the button. Trembling as I lower the zipper. Near vibrating when I hook a thumb in the waistband of my boxers and tug until my cock springs free and slaps right into his abs.

It leaves a trail of precum in its wake, and I shiver.

“Don’t wake me up,” he whispers, his head falling to my shoulder, his skin hot against me.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I murmur back, turning into him to press a kiss on his stubbled cheek. It tickles something deep inside me to be this close to him. This open.

Mac. Mac. Mac.

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