Page 80 of Pretty Mess

I gulp loudly and spin around. I lean over, resting my hands on the table opposite our seats and spreading my legs. He inhales sharply and I jump at the touch of his hand. He gently traces the globes of my bum, lingering, and I shudder, arching into his touch. His finger flirts down my crack, circling my hole. The thought of how I must look forces a moan from my throat.

His hand comes down with a crack, and I jump, crying out at the sharp pain and then moaning again as his hands immediately caress the abused area, sending tendrils of heat through my body. He repeats this process again and again, and before I know it, I’m leaning fully on the table, my arse sore and no doubt red. I hear jumbled words and realise with a shock that it’s me panting and whining like a dog in heat. My cock is so hard that it’s left a drooling, sticky trail on the table, and I’m shoving into his touch.

“Stand up,” he snaps.

I hasten to do as he says, standing still for a second when dizziness sweeps through me. It’s hardly surprising, as all the blood appears to have left my head and pooled in my cock. I turn to face him.

“Come here.”

His big, strong hands grab my hips, his grip punishingly tight and so fucking good. He leans in and takes my dick into his mouth. The heat is shocking—tight and wet and amazing—and before I can stop myself, I shove in, grunting as he swallows around me.

I immediately pull back. “Sorry,” I stammer. “That was rude.”

He looks up at me for a long moment. His eyes are dark and hot. Then I gasp as he explodes into movement, shoving me to the floor. He crouches over me and takes my cock back into hismouth, sucking hard and bobbing his head over my groin. I can’t help staring at him because the sight is so fucking hot. He’s fully dressed and I’m naked with my dick glistening with his spit, his lips stretched wide around it. His hand cups my balls, and I feel the telltale tingling in them. “Going to come,” I grunt. “Wait. Where are you going?”

“You’re not coming yet.” He lowers himself to the floor, lying on his back next to me. “I want you riding me.”

“That’s a fucking brilliant idea,” I exclaim.

His eyes twinkle. “I do have a few. Thank you for noticing.”

He pulls off his tie and jacket and opens his shirt, his long fingers working the buttons. He spreads the cotton out as I stand over him. Then he shoves his trousers and briefs down. His cock springs up and he nods so I lower myself down until I’m sitting on his groin. His cock rubs up behind me, pressing against my crack, and I lean back hissing as the head catches on my hole.

“God,” I whisper.

He nods, his face drawn tight with control. I love that about him. I can lose control completely, Mac stays aware, watching my reactions and ensuring I’m okay. It makes my brain shut down and my thoughts wonderfully dreamy.

His hands rise, and I expect him to touch me, but instead, he folds them behind his head as casually as if he’s lying in bed.

I stare at him. “What are you doing?”

He winks. “You’ve finished your exams and are no doubt full of deplorable energy, so you can do all the work this time.” I blink at that novel idea, and he nods at his jacket. “Lube is in the pocket. Get yourself ready.”

“You’re not going to do it for me?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m going to watch.”

I shudder, and his eyes darken, but he stays still, as cool and collected as if he lies on aeroplane floors with a naked man on top of him all the time. Maybe he does. I push that horriblethought away and reach for his jacket, quickly finding the sachet of lube. I tear open the packet, squeeze the contents onto my fingers, and then reach back to stretch myself.

It takes a little more effort than usual, because I haven’t had him inside me for weeks, but soon I’m leaning back into my fingers, writhing on his lap as my cock bobs. He watches me, his face set and hard, his eyes fierce, his breaths becoming louder. I add a third finger, and the stretch burns as I wriggle on his lap. His cock is a hard presence behind me, painting a wet stripe on my back while I pant and whine.

Abruptly, I’ve had enough. “I need you inside me.”

I reach back to grab his cock. It’s hard, hot, and thick in my hand, and he arches into my touch as I notch the crown against my hole and slide down on him. Even with the prep, the stretch is on the edge of being painful, and when he’s fully in, I stay still in his lap. He watches me, his hands now clutching my hips tightly. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple, and the sound of our breaths roars in my ears. I try an experimental wriggle, hissing in satisfaction. The burn has stopped and is morphing into the familiar heat that means we’re both struggling with control.

I realise my eyes have slid shut when he grips my arse and squeezes. “Wes?”

I blink and look down at him.

“There’s a present in my bag for you.”

“Now?”

His lip twitches. “Now is the best time for it.”

Completely intrigued, I reach for his bag, snagging the handle and pulling it down. The movement makes him groan and his eyes squeeze shut as I move on his cock. Then he forces them open and nods at the bag. “The box in the paper.”

I find it and pull it out. It’s a long, thin box wrapped in… I blink and look closer. “This is happy graduation wrappingpaper.” I look at it again and then down at him, and a suspicion occurs. “Did you wrap this?” I say incredulously.