Page 57 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“Do you need some relief?”

She swallows thickly. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“You’re not. We’re here because we both want to be. I’m asking what you need, and I want you to be honest.” I pepper her throat and jaw with more kisses.

“I want to be under you,” she whispers.

I curve an arm around her waist and gently flip us over, settling into the cradle of her hips. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” Her hands move to my hair again and then she smooths them down my back. “Yes.” She curves a palm over my ass and tips her hips up. “I want to feel the weight of you on top of me.”

I press into her, and her eyes flutter closed. “Does that feel good?” I murmur against her cheek.

“God, yes.” She hooks her leg over my hip.

I suck her bottom lip. “Tell me what else you need, Ophelia?”

“More kissing, please.”

“So polite. I like it.” I slant my mouth over hers and roll my hips in time to the sweeping of our tongues. Her moans grow deeper, needier. Her nails bite into my skin.

“Oh God, Mac. That feels—” She arches and gasps.

“Feels what?” I anchor my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging until her eyes open. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I think maybe—” Her brows tighten.

“You think maybe you could come even without me touching you?” I whisper.

“I-I don’t know.” She shifts under me. “Maybe?”

“Tell me what you need so I can get you there.” I suck her bottom lip.

“I’m not sure. Just don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she begs.

“Not until you come,” I promise.

I slide a hand under her hip, pressing down hard, rolling my hips faster, wringing pretty sounds from her soft lips.

“Oh my God, Mac.” Her knees clamp against my hips, as she arches and trembles under me.

“You’re beautiful when you’re coming for me,” I grind out.

The sight of her unraveling for me, the feel of her body under me, the sweet moans and pulse between her thighs tip me over the edge. I shudder and groan, burying my face in her neck as I come, too.

Fee trails a finger up and down my spine. “Mac?”

I lift my head. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiles, eyes glassy. “So you’re chatty.”

I laugh. “Too chatty?”

“Fuck no.” She cups my face in her palms. “Love it. Ten stars.”

“Oh yeah?”

Her eyebrows wave on her forehead. “Like so much. I’ve never come from dry fucking and honestly, underrated.” She points at her chest with a chipped Tilton painted fingernail. “Huge fan.”