Page 69 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“Soon, but I don’t want to rush this.” I cup her cheek and kiss her again.

Our hands explore bare skin and I revel in the softness of her touch. Like it’s what I’ve been waiting for, she’s exactly what I need, crave, want. Eventually I break the kiss and work my way down her throat, loving every sweet sigh and quiet moan.

I kiss along the edge of her bra, feeling for the clasp, but there isn’t one.

“You have to pull it over my head if you want to take it off,” Fee explains.

I slide two fingers under the buttery soft fabric, eyes lifting as I skim the underside of her breast. At the same time, I drop my head and suck her fabric-covered nipple.

She gasps and threads her fingers through my hair. I sweep over the spot with my thumb and tug the fabric down to expose her nipple, covering the tight peak with my mouth. Then I gently suck.

“Oh God.” She rolls her hips, fingers tightening in my hair.

“Do you like that, Ophelia?”

She shivers and nods.

“Should I do it again?”

“Please,” she whispers.

I swirl my tongue around the tight bud and follow with purposeful suction.

Her eyes flutter closed, and a gorgeous moan tumbles from her lips.

I leave open-mouthed kisses on her skin as I move to the other breast.

“You can use teeth,” she murmurs breathlessly.

My eyes flip to hers.

“If you want,” she tacks on, chest heaving with every panted breath.

I kiss her warm skin. “What I want is to make you feel good.”

She shivers and lightly skims my cheek. “Then use teeth, please.”

I bite my way gently over the swell, covering her nipple with my mouth while I thumb the other. This time, when I swirl my tongue, I bite gently.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Fee moans, nails dragging down my scalp.

I shift and settle in the cradle of her hips, my erection pressing against her through layers of fabric.

“Do you want me to touch more of you?” I ask between kisses.

“Please yes.” She runs her hands up and down my back and rolls her hips. “I want your hands on me.”

“Tell me where,” I demand as I kiss her chin and the corner of her mouth.

“Between my thighs.” She bites her lips, cheeks flushed pink.

I roll to the side and squeeze her hip before I slip my hand between her legs. Resting my palm on the inside of her thigh, I coast up until my index finger meets the seam. I sweep my thumb back and forth over the crest of her pubic bone. “Over or under?”

“Is that a trick question?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. "Why would you think that?”

“Under, Mac. Definitely under.”