We laid panting in my bed, gazing up at the ceiling as we tried to catch our breaths.
I’d never experienced anything like the past week.
So much for going slow!
Mac and I had spent every night together since our date at North Star on Saturday.
Now it was the following Sunday, and I swear to God, I had definition in my abs from all the sex.
So much sex.
Like six years of lusting after each other, culminating in a week of so many orgasms, I’d lost count and was possibly suffering the effects of an endorphin haze.
This morning Mac had woken me up to make love. It was slow and gentle and beautiful, but I was also a little sore from last night.
“Last night,” I murmured out loud in awe.
“I know,” Mac replied, sounding smug.
He should be smug.
We both should be smug.
“We could win awards for last night,” I panted softly. “That thing you did when my legs were over your shoulders …”
“Aye, we’ll need to do that again.”
“And that other thing. I didn’t know my body could bend that way.”
“You’re satisfyingly flexible.”
I preened. “We both are.”
“We’ll need to do that one again too.”
“As much as I’m looking forward to it”—I moved onto my side to face him—“I’m a wee bit sore.”
Mac turned to me, frowning. “Why didn’t you say?”
“Because I wanted sex,” I answered. Obviously.
He smirked, but there was still concern in his expression as he slipped his hand between my legs. I shivered as he petted me. Mac touched me with no inhibitions, like my body was as much his as it was mine. Oversensitized, I grew taut as he prodded gently at my opening.
“Here?” he asked hoarsely.
I nodded, biting my lip to stifle a moan.
He moved upward to my clit and circled it with his thumb. “Here?”
I shook my head, pushing into his touch. “We can’t.” My mouth argued with my body. “We’re due at Thane’s soon.”
“Let me kiss you all better first,” he growled hotly, moving down me to push my legs apart. And then his tongue was on my clit, and I couldn’t resist. Watching Mac go down on me was one of my favorite things in the world.
But I didn’t know if my heart could take much more.
Apparently, it could.
A few minutes later, I’d come again, and Mac kissed his way back upward. He gave my breasts a lingering kiss each before he rolled off the bed and sprung to his feet with a spryness I admired.