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Mack lets me set the pace for a few minutes, as he worships my breasts and runs his hands all over my body, settling at my clit. When he circles it a few times, the sweet sensation of a coming orgasm blooms and I lose my pace.
Without me even having to tell him what I need, Mack grips my hips and starts topping from the bottom, and making me see stars.
I can’t breathe.
Can’t think.
Can’t speak.
I can only succumb to the carnal need coursing through my body.
“Fuck,” Mack drawls. “That’s it, Greer. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”
His hips jerk a few more times and then he’s coming too, holding me against him as he rides out his release.
When I fall onto his chest, he wraps his arms around me and we just breathe, allowing our bodies a chance to float back to earth.
“I’m not sure I can move,” I mumble against his chest.
“Are you saying my dick paralyzed you?”
He chuckles and I love the way it reverberates through my body. I also love the way he tenderly rubs my back.
“Maybe.”
Everything about this moment is so… crazy, unbelievable, euphoric… such a huge difference from my last relationship. I can’t help comparing Mack to Miles. Especially after running into him tonight. The differences are startling and I don’t know how I ever let myself get wrapped up in someone like him.
This is what I want.
This is what I deserve.
I deserve to be taken care of.
I deserve to be cuddled after sex.
I deserve a man who wants me in his bed for other things besides fucking.
Eventually, Mack moves me to his side and removes the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash can beside the bed.
“Do you need anything?” he asks, his voice sounding sleepy as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me into his side. “Water? A snack? Me to carry you to the bathroom?”
I shake my head, feeling my eyes grow heavy. “No, I’m good.”
For the past month, I’ve felt so out of sorts. Between the stalker and my new job assignment and moving in with Mack, my life has been chaotic, to say the least. I haven’t felt anything resembling peace in a long time, probably long before the stalker, if I’m being honest.
But tonight, in Mack’s arms, I feel more than good.
I feel perfect—sated and safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MACK
“Good morning.”
Greer’s voice is gritty with sleep and I fucking love it. She has a great voice already. It’s not too high, not too low, and perfectly sultry. But when she first wakes up in the morning, it’s straight-up phone sex operator. The thought of my next road trip comes to mind and I wonder if she’d be up for a little FaceTime fun.
“Good morning,” I reply, burying my face in her neck and inhaling deeply.
