Page 52 of The Trope

Maggie couldn’t resist her smile spreading at his harsh word. She bit his shoulder and wiggled under him, hoping to goad him into action. Mac pushed the rest of the way in and then stilled as she tightened around his intrusion. Nothing had ever felt better.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Yes, please.” Maggie rolled her hips until his pelvis bumped against her clit. Her pussy clenched down around him again.

“Condom, baby,” he said, hips stuttering against hers. “I can’t believe I didn’t—You feel so good—couldn’t wait—”

Maggie dragged her brain back from the euphoric edge and palmed his cheek, forcing his eye to hers.

“Do you have one?”

Mac nodded. His hips ground against hers and both of their eyes rolled back, matching each other’s moans.

“Get it.”

With a shuddered breath, he pulled out and slammed around the drawer in his bedside table. He came up with a full cardboard box. Maggie watched through half-closed lids as Mac bypassed the perforated top and ripped it apart with his hands, tearing open one of the gold foil packets with his teeth. He pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it on as he took the two steps back to where she still lay, legs splayed out, wet and aching. He kneeled between her thighs, grinning down at her.

“Hold on to me, baby.” Mac reached for her hands and brought them up and around his neck. He fisted his cock, lining himself up at her entrance. “I’ll get you there. I promise.” And then he slammed home.

Everything Maggie thought she knew about sex, Mac obliterated on the first shift of his hips. Maggie had expected a rough ride, given his entrance, but Mac favored slow thrusts that had her legs trembling over his thighs. Each time he pushed all the way to the hilt, Maggie felt the air forced out of her lungs. Mac lifted her hips off the bed as he changed their angle and the head of his cock hit something truly delicious. Maggie moaned and he bent his back to take her mouth with his, swallowing her sounds and giving her back one of his.

“Right there, baby.” Another slow thrust and Maggie’s vision started to white out around the edges. “We’re riding that spot until you go over.”

It wouldn’t take long. Already tension was coiling in Maggie’s abdomen, like a spring winding tighter and tighter. Any minute now she was going to snap. Any minute. Any minute. Mac looped an arm under Maggie’s left thigh and lifted until her calf rested over his shoulder. The stretch helped him get impossibly deeper. His stomach rubbed against hers with each thrust, the dark hair a crisp scrape against her skin, and his pubic bone bumped her clit. He panted warm breaths over the top of her head. Maggie was losing her mind. She could feel her core clamping down around Mac as he kept his pace steady.

“Please,” she moaned, head thrashing from side to side.

Right there. Right there.

There. There. There.

“I need—” Maggie gasped. Her whole body was so tight it almost hurt, her nerves skating the line between pleasure and pain. She wanted to squirm away from the colossal something bearing down on her, but she also wanted to charge it head on. It had never felt like this before. The throb. The heat. Not even by herself had she ever reached this height of need.

“I know.” Mac’s voice was so low she barely heard him over the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. “I’ve got you.” He dropped one hand between their bodies and let two fingers circle her clit once, twice. On the third circle he thrust his hips hard and Maggie’s body splintered outward.

She shuddered in Mac’s arms, her core pulsing as he held still, buried in her core. He watched her with hungry, heavy-lidded eyes that sent a fresh wave of shudders through her sated body. His fists clutched handfuls of his comforter next to her head. Every muscle in his body strained with the effort to stay immobile, and it was automatic for Maggie to lift one arm—despite her muscles feeling like strands of cooked linguine—and stroke her hands up and over his quivering biceps.

“Thank you,” she said when she had enough air back to talk. Mac was still seated deep inside her, the thin line of his control almost visible. At her words, he chuckled, and the movement shifted their hips, sending sparks flowing back through her bloodstream.

“Oh sweet girl,” Mac dropped his head until he could drag the tip of his nose up the side of her cheek to her temple. He pressed a kiss there, the move completely at odds with the way their bodies interlocked. “We aren’t done.”

Maggie didn’t have time to wonder what he’d meant before Mac rolled to his back and brought her with him. She braced her hands on the soft hair covering his chest and sat up, trying not to moan at the way he filled her from below. Mac was breathing hard through his nose, nostrils flaring. His cheeks hollowed out as he clenched his teeth. He shifted his hips under her, and Maggie’s body shook.

“Yes, Maggie?”

She nodded and let instinct guide her hips in a small circle. Mac threw his head back on a groan.

“Take what you need baby, I’m not sure how long I’ve got,” he said and his hands bracketed her hips, helping move her in a quick back-and-forth rock. Each slide ground her hips against the base of his erection and Maggie could feel the climb begin again at break-neck speed.

Maggie had slept with a few men, and she’d read enough toe-curling smut that she'd thought she’d understood sex. Mac was nothing like she’d ever imagined and she was a little worried that the fullness of him inside her, the rasp of his hands against her skin, and the pleasure that melted her organs like butter on a hot day, was fast becoming an addiction. She could want this every day. It wasn’t just Mac’s body and technique. He also paid attention to every move that made her shift, sigh, or smile. Then he repeated them. Frequently.

It was also the heat and affection that poured out of his dark eyes. The way his lips pressed soft kisses against any part of her he could reach. How he whispered curse words like prayers. By the time Mac slid his hand down to touch her, his thrusts deep and urgent, she was so ready that she splintered for the fourth time and dragged him over the edge with her.

He dropped to the bed beside her, panting. They lay there, catching their breath. Their arms pressed against each other, sticky with sweat. Maggie shivered against the side of Mac’s body, and he turned to look at her, the corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. It was a sweet look for Mac, one that made the tingles flare up again. Now that his hands weren’t perusing her body, she was uncertain about what to do next.

“I should get going,” Maggie said as Mac unrolled the condom and dropped it into the trash can by his desk.

“You don’t have to.” He was standing in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers. “You can stay.”

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