Winning Love (Love to the Extreme, #3)

“Faster like this?”


He gave her a few seconds of hard and fast, and just as the sensation of pending release gave her hope, he slowed again. In frustration, she yelled, “Damn it, Mac!” She thumped her fist on the table. His responding chuckle was grounds for a good smacking.

“I’ll give you what you want. All you have to do is come.”

It wasn’t going to happen. He had her so aroused, wound so tight, so ready for release, all she could do was whimper her need for it. And with the way he continued his slow onslaught, he had no intention of reaching around to give her the stimulation she needed to push her over the edge. She needed to touch herself, she needed him to touch her.

“Imagine it, Gayle. I just gave you a taste of it. Think about it. Think about how that felt.”

And she did, the sensation of him pushing deep inside her, fast and hard, the pull on the sensitive skin of her inner walls, the feel of him circling her clit. And everything inside her clenched.

He groaned and ground out, “That’s fucking it, baby, keep imagining it just that way. Tighten around me more.”

His words, the images he’d made her paint in her head, had her entire body shaking from the need for release. She pictured him with his hands on her hips. The bite of his fingers into her skin as he relentlessly bucked into her. Heard the sounds of their flesh smacking from the power of each thrust, their pleasure melding. The tip over the edge was slow, but she felt herself go. The orgasm started softly and built in force with each thrust until she cried out from the intensity as it tightened every muscle in her body.

Mac growled behind her with a guttural, “Yes.”

The energy shot out of her, taking every bone in her body with it, and he let loose behind her, giving her everything she’d begged for. All she could do was groan over and over, “Oh, God. Oh, God. “

Every sensation was heightened, every touch, every thrust, everything, and she found herself wound just as tight as she’d been only seconds before, whimpering for release again. This time, he circled her throbbing clit with his glorious fingers. She immediately fell into another orgasm. His low moan signaled his release as his thrust slowed. He braced both hands on either side of her body and rested his forehead on her lower back, his breathing choppy.

For a minute they both stayed still, then he eased up and helped her rise. Her legs shook as he lifted her to sit on the table. She flinched as her oversensitive center met the hard wood.

A supremely masculine expression crossed Mac’s face. “A little tender?”

“Tender? Really? My vajajay is screaming, ‘Let’s do that again’.”

Mac threw his head back and laughed, then he moved between her parted thighs and kissed her. Long and slow. His tongue swept across hers as his palm cradled the side of her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he shifted closer.

She couldn’t get enough of him.

Was worried she never would.

And where would that leave her?

She broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against the middle of his chest, trying to collect herself.

His body tensed against hers, letting her know he’d picked up on her change. “Hey, you okay?”

Inhaling, she looked up and saw the concern in his eyes.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Not yet, he hadn’t, but one day he could. Badly.

She attempted a smile. “Just wore me out completely.”

“We’ve had a really long week. Why don’t we call it a night?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

After he helped her clean up, she expected him to tell her good-bye and go back to Lance’s. Instead he laced his fingers with hers and led her upstairs.

And she didn’t have the strength to send him home.





Chapter Twelve


After being with CMC, Mac had forgotten the crazy setup of the smaller circuits. The event he, Gayle, and Lance were headed to was being held outside at a popular bar and grill in Wichita. A portion of the parking lot had been sectioned off and about a hundred folding chairs surrounded a cage. Already the area was packed with people. A bunch of them were standing since all the seats had long since been filled.

To keep a low profile, Mac had worn a baseball cap. If they let him fight, it wouldn’t be long before everyone realized who he was, and he’d rather spend time with Gayle than be swarmed by well-meaning but persistent fans.

As they followed Lance into the bar, Mac wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders and brought her close to his side. She didn’t hesitate to melt into him. He loved that about her. She just gave over everything freely, without thought, without question. Pride at having her on his arm swelled through him, especially as he noted some appreciative once-overs from other men as they walked by. In a black corset-type halter top and short jean skirt, she looked like walking dynamite. He couldn’t blame the men for noticing her.