Page 78 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He drags his gaze back up to mine, hot and needy.

“Do you want to know how my mouth feels?”

His jaw snaps shut and his nostrils flare.

“It’s okay if you’d rather I use my hand. I know it’s intimate.” I don’t want to pressure him. “But I would love to taste you.”

His teeth grind as he skims my bottom lip with his thumb. “You want me to fill this pretty mouth with my cock?”

My pussy clenches. “Please.” It’s mostly a moan.

He slips his thumb between my lips and I suck softly.

His top lip curls, eyes darkening with desire. “Since you asked so nicely.”

I hollow out my cheeks and gently scrape the pad of this thumb before releasing him. He helps me rid him of his jeans and boxers, and I move to kneel at the edge of the bed, just like Arwen did for Legolas—thank you Cammie for setting the scene for me.

“Here sweetheart, for your knees.” Mac moves to sit on the edge of the bed and tucks a pillow under me, then spreads his thighs to accommodate me. I run my hands up his thick, muscular thighs, taking in his gloriously naked form. He’s tall and lean, and right now he looks absolutely feral for me.

I keep my eyes on his as I curve my hand around his length and stroke him twice before leaning in to brush my lips over the crown.

“Fuck, Fee.”

Mac watches me as I leave wet, open-mouth kisses along the shaft. His lids are hooded, lips parted as I cover the head with my mouth. His hips jerk when I take more of him and he fists the comforter.

I pop off, lips moving against the head as I speak. “It’s okay to touch me.”

He lifts a shaking hand and skims my cheek. “I just want to stay in control.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” I kiss the head again. “Will you guide me, so I can learn what you like.”

“I’m holding on by a thread here,” Mac admits.

“Please?” I lick the bead of precum dripping down the tip. “I want to know what gets you hot.”

“You, Ophelia. You get me hot.” His jaw tightens and his eyes flash with heat.

I pull a line from Cammie’s fic. “I want to be your perfect girl, Mac.”

“Fucking hell, Fee.” He sits up and slides his hands into my hair. “You’re sure about this?”

The throb between my thighs tells me I’m absolutely positive. “Please.”

His fingers are gentle, but his expression verges on feral, like he’s struggling to keep himself in check. And I love that I do this to him.

He tentatively guides my mouth, careful not to go too deep. When I hum contentedly, he groans. So I do it again, louder this time.

His fingers tighten in my hair, so I suck him deeper, tonguing the head.

“So fucking pretty.” He shudders, jaw snapping shut, hips jerking forward. The head bumps the back of my throat, but I don’t stop, sucking noisily.

He pulls out, eyes wild as a line of spit connects from the tip to my bottom lip, then drips down my chin. He wipes the spit away, chest heaving.

I grin up at him, my hair still fisted in his hand. “Do you like it when I’m noisy?”

His cheek ticks. He’s silent a moment. “Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I think I do. A fucking lot.”

“And messy?”