I can’t complain that I don’t get enough time to appreciate all the smooth skin on display because, moments later, he’s back between my legs, only this time he stretches all of his gloriously naked body over mine. Then we are thigh to thigh, and chest to chest, and skin to skin. He uses his elbows to lessen some of his weight, not wanting to crush me. Not that it makes any difference, as I can’t find enough oxygen for my lungs anyway—not with Ellis pressed against me like this.
His thick cock is hard and heavy next to mine, and I can’t help the instinctual roll of my hips, making his breath catch.
“Greedy,” he mutters, smirk securely in place, eyes locked on mine and dark with lust.
I don’t answer. I can’t. Between the way he’s looking at me, and the slide of his length against mine, I’m almost ready to beg.
“On your belly. Turn over.”
Another roll of my hips.
Ellis smacks the side of my arse.
“Over, Macs. Let me see you. Let me watch as your tight hole swallows me. Let me see what’s mine. What will always be only mine.”
His words are the perfect combination of filthy and possessive, laced with a sweetness that only Ellis can pull off.
And so, I give him what he needs—I will always give him what he needs.
Lifting up enough for me to turn onto my stomach, Ellis is soon plastered against my back, his cock immediately burrowing between my cheeks.
Slide.
“Why does it feel like I’ve waited for this my whole life, Macs?”
The head of his cock nudges against the back of my balls, painting them with pre-come, and I moan hoarsely, both from the sensation and his words.
Thrust.
“Why has it never been like this with anyone else?”
Ellis undulates above me, his body pressing mine into the mattress, his cock driving me insane with need.
Glide.
The tear of a wrapper and the pop of a cap.
“I thought something was wrong with me. I thought I was defective.”
Pump.
Lubed fingers breach my hole. One. Two. Three. Long delicious slides that stretch and open.
“But I wasn’t, was I? I wasn’t broken. I was just waiting.”
Push.
The smooth, blunt head of his cock replaces his fingers. The burn intensifies, the pressure unending, the feeling… like coming home.
“I was waiting for you.”
Inch by inch he takes me, claims me, owns me, until finally fully seated, his balls rest against mine, and he stills.
“I might not remember you yet, Macs,” he groans, sliding all the way out before slowly thrusting back in. “But I want to. I want to more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”
Another long, lazy thrust that pushes me deeper into the bed, the sheets tangled beneath me rubbing deliciously over my sensitive cock, making me moan and mutter and beg.
“Help me remember, Macs.”
“I will.”
Throb.
“Because I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.”
Undone.
Chapter 16
Ellis
“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in.”
“We don’t have a cat.”
Iris pulls a face while giving me a once over from head to toe.
“We don’t? Because, you sure look like a well-chewed, torn up, tattered around the edges, cat toy right now.”
Ignoring her, I begin to take inventory ready for the day’s prep.
“Has that same cat got your tongue or have you left it in places unmentionable?”
“Give it a rest, Iris.”
“Oh.” She drags the word out sarcastically. “You’re touchy for someone who spent the whole night bonking. I’d have thought the glow of a good screwing would’ve held on a little longer.”
When I don’t take the bait, she sidles up alongside me and whispers, “He did put out, didn’t he? Or are you all broody and silent because he kept his modesty under lock and key?” Her voice rises an octave at the end and takes on a faux-plummy tone. She sounds like one of those women who wear crinoline and flounce around the countryside in all the BBC dramas.
I huff and sidestep around her to grab an order list. “You read too many historical romances.”
“Meh, you say too many, I say not enough.” She follows me like a bad smell. “So, did you get some?”
“Iris, for fuck’s sake.” I can’t help the laugh that accompanies my words. She’s utterly relentless.
“No,” she says, making the word sound like ‘Duh.’ “I’m not asking about sake, I don’t care who they fucked, but I do wanna know if you and Macs—”
“Enough.” My sharp tone brokers no argument, and she takes the hint.
“Spoilsport,” she whines like a baby, nudging me with her hip and finally walking away to set up her area for her first task of the day—peeling and chopping vegetables. “At least tell me if you had a good night. You know, seeing as I worked my arse off covering for you.”
She has a point.
“I did, and thanks for that. I owe you one.”
Spinning in place, she glares at me, her eyes narrowing to little slits.
“That’s it? That’s all I get?”
The broad grin I offer in response is enough, and I swallow down a chuckle at the way she pouts and huffs, giving me her back once more.
Iris falls silent for long minutes as she chops and peels with a little extra hostility—poor veggies—and I continue making my inventory list, thankful I get a reprieve from her twenty inappropriate questions. I don’t bother filling the quiet because I know she’ll crack eventually. Iris can’t stay mute for long.
And just as I think it…
“I’ll just ask Macsen. I bet he’ll give me all the dirty details.”
Even though she can’t see me, I roll my eyes. “He won’t.”
“No?” she asks sweetly, turning to face me. “But the look on your face when I ask him will be glorious enough.”
I laugh at her barefaced audacity and call her out, pointing my pen in her direction.
“You’re a twat, Iris Probert. You know that, right?”
The grin she gives me in return is broader and more devious than any I could muster. She would indeed ask Macs if only to get a rise out of me, and the twinkle in her eyes gives away her plan.
“I’ll sack you.”
“You won’t.”
“Will.”
“Won’t. Besides, that big old love bite on your neck, right under your jaw, kinda gave the game away.” Using her knife, she indicates the offending bruise. “Didn’t you feed him before you shagged him?”
My hand comes up and presses against the tender patch of skin.
Ah, that was when I took him the second time, face-to-face, his legs wrapped so tightly around me as he came I think he also bruised one of my ribs.
“And get that filthy look of your face. I’m not having you pop a boner while I’m in the kitchen with you,” Iris chides, dragging me away from the memory of Macs biting and sucking on my neck as I ploughed him into the mattress.
“If you don’t want that to happen, stop talking about my sex life,” I mutter, returning to my task.