“Fuck, you’re burning up down here.” He presses in, slides his leg back then forward, creating delicious friction. “So damn sexy.”
Moving his hands together above my head, he grips both my wrists with one hand, freeing up one of his own. Please, touch me.
I rub my breasts against the solid door, hoping to relieve some frustration, but it only cranks me higher.
“I’ve got you.” His free hand slides at my belly between me and the door. He tucks his hand beneath my shirt and glides it up to my bra. “I knew your skin would feel like this. Soft.”
I want to scream at the top of my lungs for him to touch me, pinch me, hurt me. I don’t care. Just put me out of this misery. Instead I wait, panting to the point of hyperventilation as I give him control.
He glides his fingers along the wire cup of my bra, and just like with his knee, he’s so close.
A tiny growl of frustration escapes my throat, and he chuckles against my back.
“You trust me?”
I nod, over and over, big and exaggerated. Hell yes, I trust you! Put your damn hands on me!
He curves his fingers beneath the cup of my bra and pulls it up to completely expose one breast. I bite my lip to avoid crying out in pleasure.
He cups my breast with his hand, molding it and making it his. “Perfect.”
His powerful thigh is pressed in firmly between my legs, his big hand wrapped around my breast, held captive by him, and I’m overcome with sensation. I turn away from him at my shoulder and press my forehead against the door. He rewards me by scissoring my nipple between his fingers, back and forth, back and—Oh yeah, it’s coming.
I push back, rolling my hips against his thigh, searching for the right combination of pressure. He steps in tighter, probably trying to keep me still, but it’s too late. He’s brought me to the brink with his orgasm-inducing domination combined with his barely there touch. The contrast is intoxicating. Beautiful.
“Mac . . .” It sounds like a warning, but I’m too close to slow now.
His fingers grow tight around my nipple, and the shock of pain sends a blinding wave of pleasure between my legs. I arch my back, pressing into his hand for more while simultaneously shifting my hips so I can get his thigh where I need it.
Just . . . a little . . . closer.
I whimper in frustration, and in an instant, I lose his hand. “No—”
My protest is cut off by a gasp when he cups me between my legs. “You come when I tell you to.” It doesn’t sound like a demand, but a request. “I need it like this.” His long fingers dig in. So good, so, so good. “Nod if you understand?”
Was that a question? I’m desperate. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, especially now.
I nod and immediately feel the pinch of his teeth at my shoulder. He groans against me as his fingers press against my jeans.
“More . . .” Dammit, I know he doesn’t want me to talk, but I’m so close.
His tongue glides up my neck to my jaw and his breath heaves. The thunder of his heart pounds against my back, and for the first time, I realize he’s just as worked up as I am.
My hands tug against his hold, but he doesn’t let them go. I grind my hips down onto his hand, rolling in waves. More. Just a little bit more.
He moans, low and primal and so damn hot. “Fuck it.” He pops the button of my jeans and slides his hand down first inside the denim and then beneath the lace of my panties.
My breath catches in my throat and my eyes slam shut.
“Aw, hell.” He grinds his hard-on against my ass in perfect time with the thrust of his fingers.
I fantasize that he’s braced above me, his tattoos dancing over muscles that coil and flex with every plunge of his hips. I imagine him dipping down to take my mouth, our tongues sliding together as we drink every last drop from one another. The powerful command he’d have over his body as he slams into me again, and again, and even harder before—My belly tightens and my toes curl.
“Oh my . . .” I throw my head back as the orgasm rips through my body. Blinding light flashes behind my eyelids as the intensity of it wracks me with jolts of pleasure. Heat washes over me in wave after wave of euphoria.
Slowly coming back into my body, I’m aware of Rex’s hand, no longer between my legs, but splayed against my belly. His thigh is back, pushed in tight and supporting my weight. He’s holding me up.
Every muscle feels like Jell-o, so I allow his assistance and fall back into his support. He releases my hands and the tingling of blood rushing back to my extremities is oddly heady.
I’m falling softly back to earth, awareness coming back to my body and mind.
All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and give him complete control. Instead I forced him—not so forcefully—to get me off. My cheeks flame. How could I be so selfish?
“Rex, I’m . . . I messed up, didn’t I?”
He buries his face into my hair and breathes in deep, but doesn’t answer.
“Rex?” I can feel the pound of his heart, erection still rock hard, and his heavy breathing against my back. “Babe, talk to me.”
Nothing.
Thirteen