Mac's Law

by Sarah McCarty

  “And how am I supposed to know when you want?”

  “Whenever I say ‘show me’ you bend over, flip up your skirt, and let me look my fill.”

  “Is this one of your rules?”

  He glanced down at her pretty little pussy and noted the fresh cream welling. At the top of her folds, he could just make out the nub of her clitoris. He smiled. She definitely liked this.

  “Consider it a law.”

  She snorted, but kept her legs open and her gaze on his. “There’s one problem with your law.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t wear skirts.”

  “You will from now on.”

  “Another one of your laws?”

  He met her slightly defiant gaze. “Yes.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He skated his fingers down the satin-smooth inside of her thigh. “You’ll be punished.”

  “Some threat that is,” she muttered.

  He touched the very edge of her left labia with the tip of his nail. “Not all punishments, honey girl, make you come.”

  The flare of alarm in her green eyes as he scraped his nail along the sensitive tissue was exactly what he was looking for. There’d be no pleasure for her if she was absolutely sure this was all a game.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest pushing me hard enough for either of us to find out.” He worked his finger into her weeping vagina. Damn, she was tight. He ignored her shivery high-pitched squeal as he hooked it against her pelvic bone. He tugged gently.

  “Lift up.” She did, but not far enough. “Higher.”

  When she was at the right angle, her back just shy of being arched, he slid his finger free and leaned back. “Now, balance your weight on your shoulders and spread your cheeks so I can see your ass.”

  She froze. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He looked at her steadily. Their pleasure depended on his ability to win these little battles of will. “What part did you think was a joke?”

  She held his gaze for half a minute before she decided he was serious. A bright red flush spread up her chest and over her cheeks as she reached behind her thighs and clasped the globes in her fingers, and hesitantly spread her cheeks.

  The flexing of her fingers warned him before she let go. “Keep yourself open and your eyes on me,” he snapped.

  She did.

  “Good girl.”

  “I’m not a child,” she groused.

  “I’m aware of that.” Her little rosette was red and slightly swollen, shining with the juice that leaked from her pussy. It twitched beneath his gaze, as if inviting his touch. He stroked the back of his fingers down her labia before turning his hand so the tips of his fingers could graze the glistening portal below. She gasped, and her hips dropped.

  “I told you to hold it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t sound sorry. She sounded breathlessly eager. Of the two, he much preferred the latter. He wanted her burning for him. He placed a finger at her anus. “C’mon Jess, get those hips back up.”

  She started to but the minute she realized what that meant she froze again. “I can’t without…”

  “You can’t without fucking my finger,” he finished, arching his brow at her. “What’s the problem, honey girl, don’t you want my finger in your ass?”

  She blushed and ducked his gaze. He didn’t like her uncertainty. He liked her better when she was bold as brass, propositioning him.

  “It’s awkward.”

  “Then maybe you should get it over with quickly,” he suggested deliberately, feeding that spark of defiance that would fuel the anger that would carry her past her shyness.

  It worked. She lay there with her legs splayed, her cheeks pulled wide, and challenged him. “No.”

  He cocked his head to the side as if considering her response. “You sure you want to say no?”

  Her chin set at that stubborn angle that kick-started his desire. “Yes.”

  She was testing him, trying to see if she could take control from him again. She didn’t have to worry. He was man enough to match her. Strong enough that she could safely trust her pleasure to his care.

  He spread his big hand over her pubic bone and pressed down, pinning her hips as he pressed two fingers against her anus. She gasped and flinched as he eased them relentlessly deeper, despite her inner tensing. Holding her gaze, he pulled them all the way back, keeping them wider on the way out, making his point while stretching those deliciously hungry muscles, before tunneling back in. He did it again. And again. Each time faster, each time harder, holding her gaze the whole while, greeting challenge with pure determination. Watching as resentment became arousal, until her breath broke into choppy inhalations, until she accepted he would do whatever it took to stay in charge.

  Oh yes, his little Jessie was looking for a man to master her. He didn’t think she was even aware that she was still in position, still holding her cheeks spread, still holding his gaze, her pussy gushing juice. He kept fucking her ass, knowing it had to burn as much as it pleasured, but he’d be damned if he’d stop until she capitulated completely. And that had to come from her.

  It seemed an eternity before her hips pushed against his hand. An eternity in which his cock swelled and ached and he fought back his own impulse. If she pushed him much harder, her ass would be filled with more than his fingers, and it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience. He was too on edge to take her carefully. He sighed in relief when, her eyes damp with frustrated tears, she slowly, slowly, brought those luscious hips up into the surge of his hand. A little more with each thrust until she was back in position.

  “Are you done fighting me now?” he asked, moving more slowly in her.

  Her “Yes” was hissed out between clenched teeth. Her ass pulsed against his hand, out of rhythm with his movements.

  “Is that an angry yes or a hungry yes?”

  Her eyes started to close before she yanked them open and back to his.

  “Hungry.”

  He didn’t really need to hear the words. From her darkened eyes to her flushed cheeks she was the image of a woman in pursuit of an orgasm.

  “Suppose we do something about that, hmm?” He eased his fingers from her rectum. The tender tissue clung and dragged, resisting his departure, holding him to her until, with the most regretful of pops, it let him go.

  “No!” she moaned when she realized his fingers weren’t immediately coming back.

  “Shhh.” He rested his hand on her abdomen and dropped his thumb to her clit, circling it gently as he said, “Just trust me and let your hips drop to the floor.”

  She did, initially panicking that he’d take his thumb away too, squirming slightly when he followed her down, keeping the pressure steady.

  “Do you want to come, honey girl?”

  She jerked beneath the flick of his thumb. “God, yes!”

  “How?”

  She frowned at him. He let the edge of his thumbnail scrape her clit. He had to wait for her answer as she jackknifed up and yelped. She clutched his arms, holding on tightly until he shook his head. With a frown, she sank back.

  “I’m going to get even with you for this,” she groaned.

  “I’ll look forward to it.” He circled her clit again, watching her pussy pulse. Beg. “But right now, how do you want to come? Like this?” He grazed her glistening folds with the back of his finger on the way to her ass, circling the sensitive opening with his fingertips before asking, “With my fingers up your ass?” She shivered and lurched. Her nipples were hard pink points stabbing at the ceiling as her back arched. He brought his fingers back up. “Or buried in your cunt?”

  “Or maybe,” He grabbed his cock and stroked it as he aligned it with her pussy and leaned forward, catching his weight on his right hand. “—You would prefer something bigger?” He rubbed the swollen head in her wet folds, against her engorged clitoris.

  “Harder?” He pressed a
gainst the well of her vagina.

  “Hotter?” The slick flesh parted the slightest bit cupping him.

  “Would you prefer my cock, Jessie?” He nudged deeper. The ring of muscle engulfed the crown. Squeezing like a fist. He ground his teeth as she sank her nails into his forearm, as if she had the muscle to drag him harder against her.

  “I want your cock, Mac.” Her voice was tight and high, quivering with shyness and something he couldn’t quite place. “All of it.”

  “Are you sure?” He gave her the tiniest fraction more. Just enough to let her get used to the idea. Then he pulled back. Teasing her, entering her again, laughing low in his throat when she gasped and wiggled beneath him. “Maybe you’d like something else?”

  “Please don’t.” To his surprise, her big green eyes filled with tears.

  Damn. He couldn’t be hurting her. He was barely in her. He dropped to his elbows and stroked a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb.

  “Don’t what, honey girl?” he whispered.

  “Don’t tease me,” she whispered back, pride doing little to shield her vulnerability from his gaze. “I’ve waited so long for this. You. Please don’t make this into a game.”

  His heart clenched. Ah damn. He was an insensitive ass to not have recognized that little something in her voice as insecurity. This was close enough to her first time to call it kin. No matter how hot the foreplay, she’d want some tenderness, some meaning to the moment. And he had her on the kitchen floor giving her orders, testing her limits.

  He kissed her eyes closed, gently wiped away the lingering tear that squeezed out and pulled her into his arms. Rolling onto his back, he took her with him.

  “This is not a game, Jessie.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows against his chest, looking down at him, her lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” His cock snuggled between them, caught in the crease between her thigh and hip. Still hard, still aching, but its demands were not nearly as important as Jessie feeling good about this. Them. Herself.

  “I’m not usually this needy.” She blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry.”

  She was obviously embarrassed.

  “I’m not.”

  This should be perfect for her. He touched the corner of her mouth, that soft sweet, betrayingly vulnerable mouth. Sitting up, he shifted her legs so they wrapped around his waist. He stood, taking her with him, smiling when she gasped first with fear and then with wonder. As he set her on the counter, she touched his biceps lightly. He tipped her head back, and kissed her hard. Hot. Lingeringly.

  Her gaze dropped to his penis. She wrapped her hand around it. He caught her wrist before she could seduce him. Bringing her palm to his lips, he pressed a kiss into the center. He closed her fingers around his kiss, and said, “Hold that thought.”

  Scooping up her shoes and pants and the to-do list, he thrust the bundle into her hands. When she merely stared at him, he swung her up into his arms.

  “Where are we going?” She linked her free arm around his neck.

  “Off to do this right,” he answered. Leaning down, he waited for her to locate the doorknob and passed through to the main living quarters.

  From the way she snuggled into his embrace, Mac assumed that she had no objections.

  “Have I mentioned that having a strong, handsome man who sets my blood afire, carry me up the stairs with the intent to ravage my willing body has always been the number one beginning to all my fantasies?” she mentioned as they got to the landing.

  “Just carrying you up the stairs?”

  Her fingers played with the receptive flesh behind his ear as he shifted her high and climbed. “Of course, he has to follow up that particular feat with more serious action.”

  “I’m glad I’m doing this right then.”

  She didn’t answer right away. He glanced down. She was chewing her lip again. As he reached the top of the stairs, she said, “I’m really sorry about what happened in the kitchen.”

  “Why?”

  “I promised you free and easy.”

  “I don’t remember that conversation.”

  She shrugged, her shoulder rising against his chest. “I implied it. And I meant to keep it that way. I loved what you were doing, it’s just…”

  They were outside his bedroom door. He released her knees and controlled the descent of her body so her torso caressed his in one long movement until her feet hit the floor. The heel of one of the shoes she was holding poked him in the stomach as he tipped her chin up.

  “You need a little tenderness right now.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, pulling it free of her teeth. “I don’t have any problem being tender with you, honey girl. You can have anything you want from me.” He reached behind her and opened his door as he backed her into the room, taking a half step for each of hers to accommodate their height difference. “I don’t have any problem at all giving you whatever you need. You just let me know what it is, and I’ll give it to you.”

  Meeting the deep blue of his eyes, Jessie believed it. She thought he’d be upset that she’d suddenly found what he could make her feel to be overwhelming. Hell, he was overwhelming, period. But he hadn’t been upset by her tears in the kitchen. He’d simply understood and given her…exactly what she’d needed.

  She took a breath, took in his scent, took in reality. He was still giving her what she needed she realized as she took another step back, his gaze, his hands all reading her mood, assessing her wants. How amazing. His hand in the middle of her back pulled her up short. Mac reached back, and the door clicked closed behind them.

  He smiled, that slow, lazy bad boy you-can-trust-me-smile he’d given her the first time they’d met. Her womb tingled and her knees went weak. She relaxed against him, giving him her weight. Mac accepted it with a deepening of his smile. His hand stroked her hair back from her temple as if they had all the time in the world, while against her stomach, his cock thrust impatiently. Oh, she could definitely get into a man like this.

  She tossed the clothes in her hand onto a chair to the right of the door. One of the shoes bounced to the smooth wooden floor with a clunk. She slipped her arms up his chest, curving her right hand over his well-muscled shoulder while the other paused at the rapidly beating pulse in his throat. His heart beat against her fingertips as she whispered, “Thank you.”

  He cocked his right eyebrow. She loved it when he did that.

  “For what?”

  “For not giving up on me.”

  “Not a chance in hell.” He started backing her across the room.

  “Why?”

  He took two steps to answer. “Why what?”

  “Why not a chance in hell?”

  Her knees hit the back of the bed. He gave her a little push. As she tumbled back, he reached for the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not a fool, and you are a treat not to be missed.”

  She waited until he had his shirt half-unbuttoned before answering. “Good.”

  She smiled then, letting her pleasure at being someone’s treat spread across her face. His breath caught as she had anticipated it would. While he watched her smile, she shifted onto her elbows and brought her heels up onto the bed. His gaze dropped lower. When it reached her knees, she slowly, slowly, spread them, revealing everything between.

  “A very sweet treat,” he growled, his gaze a burning lick of appreciation. He tore his shirt off—buttons flew through the air and skittered across the floor.

  It was her turn to catch her breath. She knew he was strong, and she’d figured he’d have plenty of muscle, but nothing prepared her for the sheer male beauty of him. Broad shoulders topped well-developed pectorals that flowed into washboard abs a workout company would kill to have advertising their products. A fine pelt of dark brown hair accented the “V” between his pecs, arrowing down past his navel, pointing straight and true at that cock. That gorgeous, top-heavy cock currently jutting out from the fly of his jeans, straining for he
r, but weighed down by its sheer size so that it stretched out and down his thigh. She ran her tongue over her lips. Oh my, he was a tasty feast. And he was all hers. She raised her gaze to his. “This is going to be fun.”

  He laughed and cupped his shaft in his hand, easing it upward with three gradual pumps of his fist. “I agree.” He jerked his chin toward her. “Show me.”

  Her breath caught at the sensual order. Anticipation and desire combined in a debilitating surge down her arms, rendering her weak. She lifted her hips, reached under and spread her cheeks, struggling to manage a steady breath as his gaze roved over her with the intensity of a touch.