Mack (King #4)(32)

Out of options, I did the only thing I could that might give him a reason to live. I stood up, pulled my T-shirt over my head, unsnapped my bra, and then slid down my jeans and panties.

Still propped against the couch and sitting on the floor, Mack began grinning with a sweet, almost goofy smile. The kind a guy made when he wanted to get into a little mischief. “Hell. If I’d known showing you a few tattoos would get me into your pants, I would’ve led with that.”

I kneeled down beside him, slid my hands to the back of his neck, and pulled him to my lips. I kissed him with everything I had. “Shut up and f*ck me.”

Those blue, blue eyes didn’t flinch, and those lips didn’t stop smiling. “If you insist, but I’m sorry to tell you that I won’t be giving you my best work.”

I laughed. “What does that mean?”

“I can feel King getting nearer, which means we have less than an hour. To give you a thorough f*cking, I need at least six.”

Never in a million years would I begin to understand how Mack and King were that connected. It was twin connection unlike anything I’d ever heard of. That said…

“Six hours for sex?” I gulped.

He shrugged. “Fucking is the other thing I’m really good at, but with you, and only you, I like to take my time and savor every second—do it slowly.”

“I-I’ll take a raincheck on that slow-cook, savoring method.”

His expression hardened. “No, Theodora. No more rainchecks. This is the last time.”

“Ohmygod. We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“But you said that your brother always found me first.”

“I f*cking lied.”

“Why, Mack?”

“Because I hate to think about the times when we found each other first and spent the night together. You tried to save me. Something always went wrong. You died. Sometimes while I watched.”

Oh crap. How heartbreaking. No wonder he was crazy. I was beginning to think that he wanted to die just so he didn’t have to watch me be murdered by King again.

What the hell was wrong with his brother?

I offered Mack my most seductive smile, wanting him to forget what we’d just been talking about. “This doesn’t mean you changed your mind about the sex, does it?”

He gave me another boyish smile, and I wondered if it was a glimpse of the real him—playful, sweet, carefree.

“Just as long as you promise to keep your word,” he said.

Did I really have to lie to this beautiful man?

Whatever it takes.

“Yes. I promise,” I fibbed like a common cheat.

He plunged his tongue into my mouth and kissed me with reckless lust. His strong hands cupped my bare breasts, kneading and pinching my hard nipples. I moaned with sinful delight. This was what I wanted. Him. Me. Hard.

I straddled his lap and frantically went to work on his button flies. He lifted his hips so I could slide his jeans down just far enough to spring his thick cock free.

“Wow,” was all I could say when I looked at the thing. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“Wait until you see what it can do,” he said with a hint of a proud smile and returned to kissing me.

I slid my hands around his hard flesh, greedily stroking his insane thickness, wanting to work him into a painful frenzy mirroring how my own body felt.

Kissing him wildly, one hand jerking him off, I positioned his soft, velvety head at my wet entrance. All I could think about was getting the length of him inside me. I’d never had sex with a man who was so well endowed, and I’d certainly never slept with one who made me feel like I might combust if I didn’t have him immediately.

With his hands gripping my hips, he made a little flexing upward thrust, expediting his penetration.

I threw my head back and gasped, feeling his large cock push its way, inch by inch, inside me. “Ohgod. You feel so good, Mack.”

Meanwhile, he sucked on my nipple, almost to the point of pain, while his soft tongue made sinful little circles around the tip.

I rose up on my knees, relishing the delicious friction of his erection sliding out. He moaned in a deep masculine voice that made me want to hear it again. I slammed down on his dick, the excitement and pleasure of it intermingling with the sounds of our heavy breathing and groans.

“Again,” he demanded, his gravelly voice filled with lust.

I slowly rose up again, sliding him out, cupping the back of his silky head of dark hair, kissing him hard. I then brought the weight of my body down on him, the tip of his shaft colliding with the entrance to my womb, sparking a gasp from my mouth and a deep moan from his.

Still deep inside me, he suddenly shifted his legs underneath and brought me down onto my back. He pushed the waistband of his pants down a little further so that I could feel his sack just below my entrance.

“Yes,” I moaned. I wanted to feel his muscled back flexing as he drove deep inside me. I wanted to grip that hard ass of his while he pounded his cock into my body. He gave me both.

Pistoning his hips at an eager pace, me raising mine to meet him head-on, grind for grind, I began to climax. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to come knowing that we might not get another chance, but my body responded to him at the cellular level. He could’ve simply breathed into my ear and I would’ve orgasmed.