Mack (King #4)

Perhaps he didn’t want to frighten me. Perhaps he was merely testing the waters, making sure that switch inside him wouldn’t flip. I didn’t know, but there was no way a man who took so much care to kiss me like this was evil. Wickedly seductive, yes. But not evil.

With my hand still threaded into the silky hair at the back of his neck, I pushed my mouth firmly to his and ran my tongue over his plump bottom lip, urging him to give me more.

And he did.

His gentleness subsided, and his eagerness exploded. His tongue slid between my lips and stroked and pushed and lapped against my mouth, as if desperate to get inside me.

Ohgod. His smell and taste were so delicious. The feel of him, the heat of him, the shape of his powerful arms holding me to him. I could see why I wasn’t able to resist this man three thousand years ago. Everything about him was pure seduction.

The two of us kissing like wild hormone-riddled teenagers, he lowered me to the floor and stretched his long, hard body against the length of mine. The bearskin rug beneath us was warm and soft, just perfect for ripping off our clothes and going at it, but I could tell immediately that wasn’t Mack’s plan. He was trying to stay in control. I could also tell he was gifted in the lovemaking department, which was why a big part of me wanted him to let go. I’d waited my entire life to feel something like this and to feel it with Mack…there was nothing my body wanted more.

His warm hand slid underneath my shirt, and his fingertips teasingly stroked the soft skin just beneath my breasts, but he didn’t move to touch them.

This is torture. Delicious torture. The way he pressed his body against mine, but wouldn’t allow me to feel his arousal. The way his mouth moved with mine in teasing, rough kisses. He was in control right now, control over me, and he liked it that way.

But I wanted more. I needed more.

I shifted my body at an angle and wrapped my leg around his hip, pulling him closer, inviting him to slide between my legs. I wanted to feel that hard cock locked away inside his jeans.

He denied my request by unwrapping my leg and then grabbing my wrists, pushing them into the rug, holding me in place. I responded by pushing my breasts into his chest and kissing him harder. He replied by sliding his mouth down my neck and sucking and licking the sensitive skin just above my collarbone.

Oh, God. He’s trying to drive me mad. His short whiskers tickled deliciously while his mouth massaged and kneaded, helping me imagine what that tongue of his might be capable of if working on my hard nipples or throbbing c-spot.

A soft moan escaped my mouth. “What are you doing?” I whispered toward the ceiling, panting.

“Mmmm…” He slid his hand underneath my shirt again, and his nimble fingers worked down my bra just enough to make my breasts spill out over the top.

I gasped when his hand cupped the soft flesh. Every little thing he did felt amplified and exaggeratedly sensual. Was it because I’d never had real emotions before while being intimate? No, it was definitely this man.

“Was it like this our first time?” I whispered as he bathed my neck and the corners of my mouth in a flurry of kisses.

Suddenly, he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I looked up at those stunning blue eyes peering at me from behind a curtain of shaggy black hair.

“You really want to know?” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Being with you ruined me for all other women. And it was the happiest moment of my life.”

I swallowed hard and tried to stop my eyes from tearing up, but it was useless.

“Why does that make you sad?” he asked, his voice low and deep.

“Because I can’t remember it.”

He smiled at me, brimming with cockiness. “Perhaps you need your memory jarred.”

Suddenly, all these feelings welled up deep inside my chest. If I had to take a stab at identifying what it was, I’d have to say love.

Yes, I loved him. Overwhelmingly, desperately, and deeply.

I just didn’t know what to do with that. I had no experience whatsoever with needing someone and wanting them as much as this.

Crap. I can’t do this. I was in way over my head here.

Panic set in. I slid his hand off my chest and slowly sat up.

“I don’t blame you,” he said, misreading my actions. “I wouldn’t want to risk it with a madman either.”

I glanced down at him. He had his head propped up with one arm and was lying on his side. He looked so relaxed. So ruggedly sexy with his long, hard, lean frame stretched across the rug.

“It’s not that.” I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

“I hope you’re not going to leave me hanging.”

I got up and sat back on the sofa, leaning forward with my face in my hands. I didn’t want to tell him what was going through my head even though I doubted it would shock him. “I think we should just—”

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