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There would be no reverse cowgirl for us—not this time. Malachi put me exactly where he wanted me. Where I wanted to be.
“I want to see your face while you move,” he rasped. He was damn serious, and his words slid over my body like a caress.
For all my bravado and the readiness of my body, it was still work trying to fit Malachi in without hurting me. He was patient and still, hands on my hips guiding me down at a pace I dictated, but he directed. And when I sank down as low as I could go, where skin met skin and the fullness throbbing inside me was almost more than I could take—that’s when I moved.
And oh, it was divine.
I kept my gaze fixed on Malachi, his eyes locked with mine as I sank into him, grinding in a little circle before lifting slightly again. He groaned, but never looked away from my face, and I knew what it felt like then.
Absolute feminine power.
Absolute control over the man under me, inside me. I could make him do anything right now. Ask for anything I wanted. He’d grant my wishes.
But all I wanted was to make him happy.
I rode him faster, rolling my hips as he moved his hands up to my breasts to squeeze and thumb my hard nipples. But that was just about all he could handle. Had I thought I was the strong one? That I was in control of the game?
When my hands covered his over my breasts, Malachi’s control snapped.
Sitting completely upright, he braced my back with his arms, and his head lowered to capture one taut nipple in his mouth. He teased and sucked it with a force that yanked a cry of pleasure from my throat.
His hips slammed up into me. Gone were the gentle thrusts and slow grinding circles. Now it was Malachi’s game. And apparently Malachi’s game was sex rugby because it was rough, fast, and full contact.
And fan-fucking-tastic.
I wanted him to have his way with me. I wanted to let him brand me with his mouth, his hands, and his cock. Fast. Hard. Forcefully, until there was nothing else in the world but Malachi. Nothing on my tongue but his name. Nothing in my heart but the sound of his ragged breathing and the slap of our bodies as they came together.
Sex music. The kind only we could make.
Malachi consumed me.
He devoured my nervousness and fear and insecurities. He swallowed them whole and made them insignificant compared to the beauty of our bodies together.
When the pleasure became too much to bear, I cried out as my orgasm took me. I felt him too, the tightening of his chest against mine, the hitch of his breath in his throat. The long, drawn-out groan before he collapsed his head into the crook of my neck and stayed there. The only thing holding us both up were my knees on the mattress and his arms around my back.
I wouldn’t be able to move for days. I didn’t even want to. This was heaven.
“Maisy? Can I ask you something?”
Was Maisy my name? Was I her?
My body still twitched with aftershocks and I had a hard time remembering.
Malachi wanted to ask me something. Did he want a pony? Because that’s how you got a pony. Or anything else you wanted for that matter.
But he didn’t want anything from me except the truth.
“Maisy, do you believe in love at first sight?”
I went still, my breath stalling in my chest.
Do you believe in love at first sight?Until Malachi, the answer might’ve been no. But every moment with him, I felt loved. And most of all, I couldn’t deny what my own heart was screaming from within.
Malachi lifted his head, his ocean gaze holding a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. Vulnerable, yet more powerful because of it. Something magical happened when you broke your heart wide open for another. I knew because I’d watched it happen with others in the Chub Club.
It was scary. It felt like jumping off a cliff.
But Malachi had taken the first step toward the edge, his hand holding mine. No way was I pulling it back now to leave him standing there alone.
