Mac shakes her head, lets me go, and falls back on the bed with a giggle. “You’re a total nut, Romero.”
I grab both her knees before she can blink, lifting them up and spreading them wide. Holding them apart, I dip my head to where her pussy gleams pink and lick it in one long stroke. She hisses sharply and my eyes find hers, flashing with humour and lust. “But I’m your nut, Mackenzie Valentine.”
“Yes,” she agrees, breathless, her eyes rolling back when I find her clit and suck with relentless enthusiasm. “Mine.”
Freeing my hands from her knees, I stroke my cock and ease the violent ache as I fuck her with my tongue and fingers.
“Please,” Mac begs, her voice reedy and thin. I love hearing her lose control with me the way she does with no one else. She thinks I’m teasing, but if she came home with that tattoo I’d probably fuck her until my dick chafed raw and then blow my load all over the inked words. I can be a possessive, sordid bastard when I want to be.
“Because you asked so nicely,” I answer, rising up and removing my boxer briefs before tossing them to the floor. I lift her hips and shift forward. Aligning my cock, I sink inside with one smooth thrust. Wet heat is a vice that sets my every nerve on fire.
“Hard and fast,” she commands, so I rock against her with a painful, leisurely pace instead.
“Asshead.” Mac’s curse is muttered and slightly breathless, and it makes me laugh.
“If I told you to slow down, you’d probably go faster than a rabbit, wouldn’t you?”
“Stop complaining,” I say as I pull almost all the way out and punch back in with a hard thrust. She gasps with pleasure. “You like it any way I give it to you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you’re always wet for me. All I have to do is look at you and you start dripping,” I goad, increasing my pace.
“I do not!”
“You can protest all you like, Princess, but your body betrays you.”
“You’re so full of it.”
I bury my head in her sweet-smelling neck, full on thrusting now and laughing at the same time. “Au contraire, my dear. It seems you’re the one full of it right now.”
“Oh good lord!” Mac snorts and then moans. “You’re determined to have the last word tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I lift my head and look down into her eyes. “And if you have any sense, you’ll let me,” I say, slowing the drive of my hips. “Otherwise, I won’t let you come.”
“In that case.” She cups my face in the warmth of her palms. “You’re domineering and loyal and incredibly sexy, and I love you, Jake Romero.”
My hips still completely. Her words soak deep beneath the layers of my skin until they reach my bruised heart. I lift a hand, brushing a wayward tendril of hair from her brow in a soft, gentle gesture. “I love you too.”
There’s your last word, her gleaming eyes say silently.
Ah hell. I surge forward, unable to play any longer. My thrusts become hard and fast, setting a frenetic pace, one she matches. Then the image of that mock gun pointed right at her flits through my head, and I falter.
The effort of suppressing the Ross situation all night has made my anxiety build, and now it’s broken free from the restraints and surges through my head in a flood. I want to kill Ross for his sinister gesture. I want to hunt him down and tear each limb from his body until nothing remains but pieces. He wants to destroy what I love, a punishment, before he destroys me too. I can’t live with this threat hanging over us. Ross hasn’t let my exodus go like I’d hoped. He’s held on to it all these years, letting it build into a need for retribution.
“Jake?”
I lift my head. The question in Mac’s eyes makes me realise I’ve stopped completely. And worse, started going soft, even though she feels perfect.
Mac trails her hands down my back and grips my ass with needy fingers as she wriggles her hips.
“I’m sorry,” I say around the lump in my throat, my insides heavy.
“What’s going on?”
“Just stress,” I mutter, grinding my hips, trying to recreate the easy pleasure of just moments ago. This is a first. My body is failing me and my stomach clenches with the frustration of it. I bite back a filthy curse.
“The tour?”
We leave for Spain in a week—the first leg of an international tour headlining for Sins of Descent, one of the biggest bands in the world. Mac has been in the throes of planning every detail for weeks. We’ll be gone for weeks. I’m looking forward to it. Getting her out of the country. The timing of this tour couldn’t be more opportune.
“I guess.” Sweat breaks out across my shoulders. Her tight heat feels incredible, yet my erection is gone. Completely. “Christ,” I mumble. I lift my body from hers and pull out with a jagged breath.
“Jake, it’s okay,” Mac soothes, seeing my aggravation.
“It’s not.” Drawing back, I sit kneeled on my backside, my stupid dick hanging like a useless lump between us.
“It is,” she insists though her eyes are clouded.
Avoiding her confusion, I shuffle backward between her legs and dip my head, stroking her pussy with my tongue. At least I have this. She tastes sweet and musky, her texture sleek like velvet. It’s more soothing to me than any of the verbal platitudes she’s trying to offer.
“You don’t have to …” she pants, trailing off with a moan.
“Shut up,” I order between licks. I do have to. Leaving her unsatisfied galls me. And I love this. Every stroke of my tongue, every thrust of my finger inside her, is a physical adoration. Whenever Mac snaps at me, or fights with me, I remember her like this. Her body agitated. Her moans breathless. Her skin hot as the sun.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps.
As if. It would be easier to stop a freight train with my bare hands.
Mac comes against my mouth, her back arching, hips leaving the bed. When she comes back down to earth, I lift my head. Her eyes are glazed, her body languid.
“You’re amazing,” she mumbles.
“I know.”
“Come here.” I flop down beside her and pull her against me. “Do you want me to—”
“No.” I cut her off before she can finish the embarrassing question. “I’ll be fine, babe.” My lips press to the warmth of her brow. A quick kiss before I squeeze her body tight to mine. “Just give me an hour to nap and my trusty sword will be poking you before you can even blink.”
“Do me a favour?”
“Mmm?” I mumble into the side of her face.
“Don’t ever call it a sword.”
“Why not?” I mock complain. “We can play pirate and busty wench. I can steal you away on my ship and tie you to the post in my cabin. I’ll bend you over, lift your skirts, and fuck you silly with my heroic sword as the seas rage around us.”
My cock twitches at the outlandish image and its heady relief. Fuck. We need to introduce some kind of role play into our lives.
Mac groans with exasperation. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What?”
“I’m not busty.”
I reach over and grab a handful of tit, squeezing the delectable mound. “Damn, you’re right. Maybe you should get a boob job.”