Arching against the bed, I come and come. Macon kisses me again, his hand soothing my quivering belly in gentle circles, then rises to hover over me. “Of all the flavors you’ve given me,” he says roughly. “That was my favorite.”

God. I lick my dry lips, my breath catching. “You can have a taste anytime you like.”

His expression is one of male satisfaction and pure heat as he slides his palm down my belly and over my poor, teased sex. I’m so slick and ready two of his thick fingers slide right in. We both groan, his forehead resting on mine. “You need me in here, don’t you, Tot?”

“Yes.” I’m panting now, my body flush and shivering.

He keeps fingering me, downright dirty about it. “How do you want it?”

I cup the back of his head, gripping the damp strands of his short hair. I tug him down until we share the same air. “Macon, do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed about that thick cock of yours pushing into me?”

He shudders, a hard breath punching from his lips. “Shit. Tell me.”

“So many frustrated nights.” I lick his upper lip. “I want it deep and hard.”

All sense of play evaporates. He gets a condom, but his hands are shaking so hard, and he drops it. He huffs out a laugh. “Hell, I’m too worked up.” His hot gaze collides with mine. “Put it on me?”

I try, but I’m shaking too. Softly laughing, we put it on together. His abs clench as I brush a hand over his balls, his dick flexing with impatience. There’s no more smiling. His expression is almost fierce as he cradles my cheeks and kisses me. I feel it in my knees, down my back, in my heart.

Then he’s sliding over me, making room between my thighs. Every bit of him is big and strong. Hard biceps bunch and strain as he holds himself over me, his erection pressed hot against my belly.

He cants his hips just enough to slide through my wetness, but he doesn’t enter me. Not yet. Dark eyes peer down at me. I forget to breathe because what I see there isn’t just lust. Gently, as though I’m a dream, he ducks his head and places a feather-soft kiss on my swollen lips.

“Delilah.”

That’s all. Only my name.

It’s everything.

My arms wrap around the thick column of his neck. I’m surrounded by his heat, the fresh scent of his skin, the unsteady rush of his breathing. I take a small sip from his lips, then tell him what he needs to hear. “Yes, Macon. Yes.”

A breath shudders from him. He holds my gaze, those expressive eyes shining black in the light. The first push spreads me wide. My chest hitches. He fills me in a steady invasion. So thick. So perfect.