I don’t want it to be light. I want him to suck and bite, but if I’ve learned anything about Mac, it’s that he does everything in his own time.

Rushing him only makes him slow down.

Stubborn ass.

Finally, he presses harder, sucks more firmly, and all I can do is clench onto the edge of the table and bite my lip, wanting nothing more than to cry out because of the amazing things he’s doing to me. I whimper and he pulls away.

“I said be quiet.”

“But you’re sucking on my clit.”

“And I’m going to keep doing so, but you have to be quiet.”

I nod, but he can’t see me.

“Understand?”

“Yes.” It’s a gasp. He pushes two fingers inside me and I lift my hips off the table as he curls his fingers and hits my spot. Jesus, he’s killing me.

He latches his lips onto my clit and sucks, and that’s it. I go over the edge, thrashing my head side to side, but perfectly silent. Finally, he lets go, stands, and helps me sit up.

“Let’s go back to my room.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. The evening isn’t over yet. We still have some dancing to do.”

“But I’m a wet mess.”

He chuckles and kisses my forehead, then my lips. I can taste myself on him, and I just want to pull him into my room and fuck him until neither of us can stand.

“I want you to be a wet, horny mess all evening, until I can get you back to your bed and have my way with you.”

“You’re awfully bossy tonight.”

But it’s not just tonight. He’s always bossy in the sex department. It’s one of the things I enjoy most about him. I have to have answers all day long in my life. I like being with a man who easily, effortlessly takes control in the bedroom.

I’m shocked that I trust him enough to let him do that.

But I do, and it’s been one of the best experiences of my life.

Chapter Four

~Mac~

She’s exhausted. She’s smiling and talking with her friends, hugging them, saying good-bye. But her eyes are just a little heavy, and her shoulders have slumped a bit. I want to get her to her room and hold her.

She’d say that’s not on the sexcation agenda, but I don’t care.

“Are you ready?” she asks when the last person moves on.

“If you are.”

She nods and glances around the room. “I think I spoke to everyone. My feet are starting to kill me.”

“You’re wearing ridiculous heels,” I reply, and tuck a stray piece of her amazing red hair behind her ear.

She narrows her eyes.

“There is nothing ridiculous about Louboutins.”

“There is when they’re that high.”

“These shoes are gorgeous,” she replies with a sniff, raising her chin, ready to defend them to the death.

She’s amazing.

“No argument there. Let’s go up and get you out of them.”

“You can probably talk me out of more than my shoes,” she says around a wide yawn. “The night is young.”

“The night is an old man,” I reply with a laugh, and pull her in for a hug when the elevator doors close. I lean against the mirrored wall and cradle her against my chest, loving the way she fits just so.

“I’m not tired,” she says, and yawns again.

“Are you four?” I ask.

“And a half.”

“Hmm.” I bury my lips in her hair and breathe her in. She smells spicy, just like her personality.

When we reach our floor, I guide her to her room, wait for her to unlock it, and follow her inside.

She spins and reaches for me, tugging my jacket down my arms, but I slow her down before I strip her naked and fuck her against the door.

“Slow down, Red.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” I pin her with a stern look, and her brown eyes dilate just a little with lust. I love the way she responds to my demanding ways in the bedroom.

She’s refreshing.

“I want you to put on some comfortable clothes, and we’re going to order some room service.”

She sags a little, as if in relief.

I know what you need.

“Ice cream?”

“If you like.”

“Oh, I like,” she says, shimmying out of her dress and bra, then fumbling around in her suitcase. I have to turn around to make a call to room service. Kat naked is more than tempting.

I place our order, then gesture for Kat to sit in one of the armchairs by the window. I push the chairs together, sit across from her, and tug her foot into my lap. She’s still wearing her shoes.

They’re black, sky-high, with a strap around her ankle and a red sole.

“I love these shoes,” she murmurs as I unbuckle the strap and slip one off her foot, placing it gently on the floor. “Even if they do wreck my feet, they’re worth it.”

“I’ve never understood women’s tolerance of these shoes.”

“It’s not for men to understand,” she says, a smile tickling her red lips. I dig my thumb into the arch of her foot and she practically purrs. “Good God, you’ve been able to do that this whole time?”

“I was busy making you moan with other things,” I remind her, and grin when she bites her lip. Kat is a stunning woman. I’ve now seen her without her makeup and all done up, and she’s amazing no matter what. I’m surprised how much I like her style. I’m usually a conservative man, but Kat’s fun rockabilly look fits her to a tee. Her tattoos are bright and colorful, and her clothing is tasteful but edgy at the same time.