Page 25

I tremble as Mac tugs the toy out, my body aching at the sudden emptiness. He sets it aside, then shoves my knees closer to my head and slides a pillow under my hips. Every touch sends electric jolts across my sensitized skin.

“Fuck, Cal. You look so good like this, all tied up for me.”

His heated gaze rakes over me as he slicks up his long, fat cock from root to tip. “It's been nothing but my hand since the last time we fucked, so I can’t promise to last as long as I’d like.”

I squirm under the intensity of his stare, my body responding to the blatant want in his eyes. Heat pools low in my belly, my cock twitching with interest.

He trails a hand up my thigh, his touch maddeningly light. My heart races as he positions himself and I shake my head frantically. “It’s too big. I don’t think I can take it.”

“You can.”

Then he pushes forward, inch by excruciating inch.

My limbs yank against their restraints, the burn so intense, and I feel so full. When I struggle to suck in a breath, Mac stills, letting me adjust.

But, a moment later, he withdraws equally as slow, and it's like some kind of internal vacuum sucking my insides closed behind the retreat of his thick cock.

He rocks forward again, opening me up in small increments. A devilish smirk lights up his face when he bumps my prostate and sends me keening. “I wanted you so bad that first night that I couldn't take my time and do it right. Now I can.”

My fingers clench and unclench as if trying to find something to hold onto, only there’s nothing there. Everything’s becoming fuzzy again.

“Moan for me, Cal.”

I do.

“Again, louder.”

I obey once more.

He pulls out and slams back in, hands shoving the back of my thighs even wider as he rails in and out in a rapid tempo, taking me apart piece by piece. “Goddamn, you’re tight and hot. Made just for me, Little Fawn.”

I thrash my head side to side, nerves on fire, and I feel so strung out, I swear I’m about to snap. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

Sweat drips off his forehead, and he seems to get a little lost in it—eyes closed, mouth slightly agape as he brutally rails me, giving me everything he has.

“Ready to come?”

“Yes. Fuck, Mac. Please. Yes.”

He slides his cock free, and I want to scream at the sudden emptiness. But that lasts for only a second before he pushes the toy back inside. I arch, waiting for him to push it on that special spot, but instead, he hooks his thumb over my rim and tugs it open even more.

“Mac?”

He doesn’t respond, too focused on what he’s doing.

The blunt head of his cock is pushing in under the toy, stretching me painfully tight.

“Fuck! It hurts. Mac, it hurts.”

But then the toy turns on, humming away at my prostate. I shudder out a wail, feeling almost bruised inside.

Mac adds more lube then slowly thrusts. “That’s it, Cal. You’re doing so good.”

The sharp pain fades into a rough ache that has me grunting like a wild animal in heat. I’ve never wanted someone so much. I need him—need this—in a way I can’t explain.

He starts hammering away, his pelvis slapping into me with unforgiving strength, stretching and pressing and rearranging my insides.

“Jerk me, please. Mac. Please. My dick. It aches.”

His fingers finally wrap around me and he strokes roughly.

It doesn’t take much before hot cum jettisons up against my chin as Mac keeps stroking.

“Fucking perfect,”

he rasps, rutting frantically against me.

Except my body feels smothered, like a heavy blanket of pleasure is crushing me into the mattress. A low babble fills the space, and it takes me way too long to realize it’s coming from me.

Warmth fills my ass in a steady throb, and Mac stops moving, sliding out the toy but keeping his dick inside. “Breathe, Cal.”

I stare at his lips, trying to comprehend his words. Everything is such a fog, I question whether I’m in my body anymore.

Fingers brush my ankles, and my legs thump down onto the bed as I unfold. But I can’t move, can’t even muster up the willpower to.

Mac appears above me, drifting into my line of sight as he wipes me down with a warm cloth.

When did he pull out of me, and when did he even leave the bed?

After working the cuffs off, Mac sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as he examines the raw skin on my wrists. “Might need to wrap the cuffs next time. Shit, that's on me.”

“N…next time?”

He doesn’t respond as he smears some kind of cream on the broken skin before climbing back into bed and wrapping himself around me.

I pull away, too tired to do much more than roll onto my side. He follows, scooting in and pressing up behind me, shoving an arm under my head.

It feels . . . good. The solid weight, the warmth.

And yet, I feel all wrong.

For some reason, tears well, then leak over the bridge of my nose and onto his skin.

“Aw, hell.”

Mac’s strong arms bundle around me and pull me tighter against his chest. He holds me, stroking my arm and murmuring things I can’t make out.

And I feel better for some reason, fuck if I know why.

My eyes shut, and soon enough, everything fades away.