Page 92 of Protecting What's Mine
She didn’t know how he could have so damn much to say while her body was ripping apart at the seams. He kept talking, kept pumping his fingers into her, and her body welcomed it, begged for it.
“I want to watch you come. I want tomakeyou come. I want to see you when you’re feeling nothing but good.”
She wanted to touch him, too. To do what he was doing to her. Make him feel out of control. But her hands, her fingers, gripped the edge of the counter convulsively. She was going to come on her kitchen counter without that fine cock making it past her opening.
It seemed wrong.
But wrong didn’t stop the orgasm that was building in her.
It lifted her like the crest of a wave. Up and up she went, and then she detonated.
“Fuck. Yes, Mackenzie. Ride my hand, baby,” Linc crooned to her. He forced her knees up higher, wider. Drove his fingers into her harder. And she closed around him, clamping onto him in beautiful, agonizing surrender.
“Linc,” she gasped, trying to pull her soul back into her body.
“Now I really need a fucking condom.”
“Upstairs. Bedroom,” she said, slumping against his chest. The thunder of his heartbeat calmed her. She’d come apart on him, and he wasn’t immune.
“Let’s go, Dreamy. I’ve got plans to experience more of those orgasms of yours.”
He wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged her off the counter.
She clung to him, knowing it was almost certain that her legs wouldn’t support her. “Don’t wake Sunny. She’s asleep on the couch.”
The big firefighter, carting an adult woman, danced up the stairs in ninja-like silence.
“That was impressive,” she whispered.
“I’m extremely motivated,” he said, shoving open a door.
“Bathroom,” she snickered.
“You could give me some directions here.”
“I already had an orgasm,” she said smugly.
“Dreamy, you don’t want that to be your only one tonight.”
“Point taken. Next door on the right.”
They fell on the bed, where Mack reveled in the feel of his big body stretched out over hers. They fit like puzzle pieces reunited. He was hot and hard, every inch of him. It made her feel soft and delicate in comparison.
“I need to touch you,” she hissed, shoving a hand between their bodies and palming him through the soft cotton of his pants. The head of his cock had once again fought and won the battle for freedom. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life. “I fucking love sweatpants.”
He thrust eagerly against her hand. “I’ll wear them every fucking day if it gets you off.”
She dragged the waistband down, down, down. Until his glorious dick sprang all the way free.
“I want to taste you,” she said.
“Not this time. This time it’s gotta be fast and hard. You should find something to hang on to.”
She gripped his shaft tighter.
“Funny.” He dipped his head to her breast and sucked the nipple into his mouth. When his teeth closed over the sensitive peak, she hissed. Remembering that she had the upper hand, she gave his erection a rough stroke.
There was too much here. Too much to feel. Too much sensation electrifying her nerves. Reporting scrambled messages to her brain.
