“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, panting, my hands pressing to his chest when he advanced on me.
Makoa frowned. “Are you okay?” Then, his eyes went wide. “Oh, God. Did I move too fast? Do you want to stop?”
I almost snorted. “No, stupid.” Then, I pressed gently until he was standing a few feet away from me. “I want to admire the savage brute you just released.”
Makoa’s brow arched, and then he followed my gaze down to his length, smirking as he shook his head. He went to move for me again, but I held up one finger.
“Ah, ah,” I said, waving the finger as I tilted my head to one side. I took in every blessed inch of that man’s body, from his ridiculously sculpted abdomen and thick, tattooed chest and arms, to his tree-trunk quads and deep-cut V that led to the promise land.
His cock hung between his legs, so heavy it couldn’t stand straight up even at full mast. It hung a little to the left, the tip mushroomed and thick, the base lined in veins.
It really was the most perfect cock I’d ever seen.
I almost wanted to cry.
“Are you done yet?” he asked with a smirk. “Because I’d really like to fuck you bent over this counter now.”
I licked my lips, turning to face the counter again and bracing my hands on the edges. I bent at the waist, flicking my hair over my back, and then I looked back at him through my lashes with a come and get me stare.
Makoa bit his lip, shaking his head as he tore open what was left of the condom wrapper and slipped the magnum over his length. I watched hungrily as he stroked himself, striding toward me like he was about to conquer a fucking kingdom.
One hand grabbed my waist, the other lined his cock up at my entrance. I knew before he even pressed forward an inch that this was going to fucking hurt, but there was no way I was backing out now.
I arched my back, pressing my ass up to meet him, and Makoa kissed my neck, once, twice, three times before he pressed the first inch of his head inside me.
I gasped at the sensation, a combination of pleasure and pain ripping through me.
“You okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I think I answered, and I backed up, pressing him more inside me.
He hissed a breath, both of his hands finding my hips and helping. In and out, little by little, we worked together until I had that full behemoth inside me.
And when I did, it was pure ecstasy.
“Oh, goddamn, Belle,” he cursed, sliding all the way out before he filled me again. “You feel so fucking good.”
I moaned, a whispered yes on my lips as he picked up the pace, finding a rhythm between my legs. I was so full, so fucking worked up that I didn’t even need to touch my clit to feel my orgasm building. It was everything else making me come. It was the Chicago skyline through the windows, and the granite against my stomach, and his massive hands encasing my hips, and his breath mingling with mine in the sweetest, most seductive dance.
I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but Makoa was right.
It was definitely worth the wait.
“Fuck, baby, I’m going to come,” he breathed.
I ignored the fact that he’d just called me baby — a term far too intimate for my taste — and even more so the fact that I really, really liked it. Instead, I turned my focus to the more pressing fact that he’d just said he was about to come.
And I was not ready for that.
I pushed him backward, immediately pressing my lips to his and yanking him down to the floor. We crashed down in a tangle of limbs, and then he was on his back, and before he could even put two and two together to figure out how we got here, I climbed up to straddle him.
“Not yet, baby.”
Shit.
Did that word just come from my mouth?
Again, I chose ignorance, at least for the time being. Reaching down between us, I positioned him at my entrance again and balanced on my feet. Makoa took the cue, his massive hands holding the weight of my ass, and then I lowered down, inch by blissful inch.
And this time, I got to watch his face as he filled me.
“Don’t go until I do,” I warned, and then, I started moving.