Mace (Untamed Sons MC: Birmingham Chapter #1)

20. Maylie

TWENTY

MAYLIE

My hand is still wrapped around his shaft as he kisses me with so much passion, it makes my legs tremble. I’ve never touched a cock before, and his is surprisingly smooth and silky. It’s also enormous. I ache from trying to wrap around his girth, and I can feel the veins beneath my fingertips. I have no idea how he’s going to fit that inside me, and the thought makes me a little anxious.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but instinctively, I move my hand up and down his shaft. I’m tentative at first, unsure whether I’ll hurt him or if he even likes what I’m doing, then his hand wraps around mine and he guides me in a faster motion.

His heated eyes shutter closed as he lets out a grunt, his lips parting slightly to let out his ragged breaths. Triumph surges through me.

I had no idea I could bring a man like Mace pleasure, and knowing I am gives me the confidence to continue.

I move my hand faster, twisting as I go, studying his expression to make sure I’m not doing anything he doesn’t like. I’m transfixed by the way his lips part slightly as his face scrunches and his breath tears out of him heavily. There is a heady mix of emotions as I watch this beautiful man come apart because of me. I’m doing this to him, and I feel fucking powerful.

Every part of my body yearns for him, craves him like a starving animal. I didn’t know it could feel this intense. I had no idea I could desire someone with every molecule of my being.

“Maylie…” The way he rasps my name sends waves of need between my legs, and the fierce ache there begs to be soothed.

“Oh…” I stumble over the word as my own lungs heave as if I’ve been suffocated of air this entire time.

His head drops back, the muscles in his throat like knotted ropes as his cum sprays over my hand, his hips jerking frantically with his release.

The cry he lets out makes my pussy throb.

This man… this beautiful man got pleasure from me… and I want to give him more.

He pulls away from me to sag onto the bed, as if his legs are no longer capable of holding his weight. His eyes stay scrunched shut as he tries to catch his breath, but my gaze is locked on his thick cock.

It juts out from between his legs, where his jeans are pulled down just far enough to reveal that tantalising strip of dark hair around the root of his shaft. It’s perfect, just like him, and I want desperately to feel it inside me, but when he doesn’t move from the bed, draping his arm over his eyes as he drags in air, the awkwardness has me cringing .

He pries open one lid and then the other, and all I see is dark desire in them. “Come here, baby,” he says.

It makes me a needy bitch, but I want him more than I care about embarrassing myself, so I step over to him. Mace sits and loops an arm around my waist so he can manoeuvre me between his legs.

His fingers dip inside my underwear, his fingers skimming over the slit of my pussy. I suck in a tight breath. “I know you’re not ready for me to be inside this pretty cunt of yours, but you’re okay with me touching, right?” I nod, pretty sure I will scream bloody murder if he takes his fingers away. “Good, because I want to taste you.”

He pulls my underwear down my legs, and I want desperately cover myself but I hold still as he removes them.

Not sure what he’s going to do, my stomach flutters as he leans forward and, to my shock, licks me through my folds. I don’t have time to feel embarrassed or awkward because my clit throbs as he sucks it into his mouth.

“Is all this wetness for me?” he asks, and I grip his shoulders as my legs begin to feel weak.

“Yes…”

“You taste delicious.” He licks me again, and everything between my legs pulses and contracts in tiny waves that seem to be growing by the second.

I want to touch his cock again, but the way his face presses against my pelvis makes it impossible for me to reach between us.

Instead, I slip my fingers into his hair, threading through the silky locks and using it to ground me as he swirls his tongue through my wetness. If this is what sex is like, I want to do it every fucking day. Electric need runs through my body like I’ve never experienced, and I’m fighting for survival against the onslaught of sensations threatening every moment to push me into a new climax. It’s too much, even as it’s not enough, and I don’t know whether to pull away or push harder onto his tongue.

His fingers slip inside my tight channel, and the dual sensation of that and his mouth on me is too much. When he hooks his fingers inside me in a way that makes me feel like he is deep into my body, I let out a guttural sound that seems to roll from my toes to my throat.

I can’t breathe, I can’t think, and all my focus is on the building orgasm spiralling within me.

He’s going to kill me if I don’t get my release soon.

“Mace,” I grit his name, “please.”

I grip his hair tighter as he sucks my clit harder, and his fingers push so deep, it shoves me over the edge.

Fireworks explode behind my eyes as my body shudders. All the energy held behind the dam inside me flows in torrents, and my voice sticks to my throat as wave after wave of pleasure assaults me.

Shit… shit… shit …

It almost borders on pain as my pussy contracts savagely around his still pumping fingers, and finally, my throat relaxes enough for a feral moan to escape.

He holds me tight as my legs tremble and my thighs quiver. I’m unsure whether I want to clamp them tight to stop the sensations washing through me or part them farther to heighten it.

Unable to hold my weight, I collapse into his lap as my legs give out, and he hoists me over him, his cock brushing against the underside of my pussy as my thighs spread around his body .

It would be so easy for him to slip inside me, but he doesn’t try. Instead, he pulls me down on top of his chest and kisses every inch of my mouth, my neck, and my face. He reveres me in a way no one ever has and I’m not sure anyone ever would be able to emulate.

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful when you come,” he tells me as I settle against his chest.

I can only imagine how we look in our various states of undress, and it should feel awkward, but it doesn’t.

I slide my hand under his shirt, skimming my palm over the soft skin of his side. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my cheek, matching the crazed beats of my own.

He brushes my hair back from my face, his expression lazy and happy. I’m so used to Mace scowling that for a moment, I can’t tear my gaze from the sight in front of me.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and I’m not sure why until he captures a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

I’m crying.

What the fuck, Maylie?

I can’t stop them from flowing now they’ve started. I’m so overwhelmed by everything that just happened that my emotions choke me. I don’t know how to articulate what I’m feeling, so I just stutter nonsense at him.

The concern on his face lances through my chest. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head, completely embarrassed to admit anything to him. “No. Everything was so perfect.”

“You’re crying.”

“I know.” I try to sit up, and he helps me, even though I can tell he doesn’t want to let me go. I lean my back against the headboard while he settles next to me. “They’re not bad tears, Mace. ”

“I don’t understand.”

I swipe at my wet face. “I never thought I would have this with anyone. I resigned myself to the fact my life would be spent taking care of my brother and my sister. I never dared to dream I could date.” Oh, shit. My eyes flare wide at the assumption I’ve made. “Not that we’re dating. I don’t mean to say that. Licking someone’s kitty doesn’t exactly mean were together, right? I’ve never even been in a situationship before, so I don’t know exactly what the rules are, but?—”

He covers my mouth with his fingers. “Babe, this thing between us ain’t a situationship.” His hand wraps around the back of my neck. I love it when he does that. I’d found it hot when Steve did it to Bella, though I never imagined it happening to me.

“Right. So, we’re dating?”

“I’ve never dated in my entire life, Maylie.”

Disappointment floods me. Was this just a quick fumble and done? My stomach sinks as his finger hooks under my chin. “I don’t like that look in your eyes.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Of course, I don’t expect anything more from you, Mace.”

He grabs my arm before I can shuffle off the bed. “Don’t run from me. I’ve never dated, and this thing between us is so much more than dating, babe. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

The possessive tone of his voice is like an electric switch in my body. Heat swirls in my belly at the ownership that word implies. I should be pissed, but fuck, I want to be his.

He kisses me before I can form coherent sentences, and his mouth on mine is fast becoming my favourite thing. I’m not afraid to admit that I am smitten. Truth be told, I’ve been smitten from the moment he stepped between me and his club brother that first night in Temptation.

“Take a shower with me,” he says.

“Okay,” I agree, feeling drunk on the emotions rolling through me.

He leads me into the bathroom off the main bedroom, and my heart flutters endlessly in my chest. The cubicle is wide enough that it should fit us both inside.

As soon as the door is shut, he begins to undress me, pulling my top off and unhooking my bra. A tendril of nerves works through me as I stand in front of him completely bare, but it only lasts a fleeting second. The look in his eyes tells me I have nothing to worry about. He is completely into whatever he’s seeing, and now, I’m desperate to see more of him.

My movements are not as graceful as I unbutton his shirt and shove it off his shoulders. He’s wearing a white undershirt beneath it, and my finger skim over his belly as I pull it over his head. His bare chest is covered in tattoos, artwork that spans every inch of his skin. It’s exquisite, but it doesn’t hide the marks.

My stomach twists, the happy fluttering vanishing as I realise they’re a mix of burns and scars. It’s a roadmap of torture he suffered in his life, and most of them look old.

Pain spreads through my chest as his fingers ghost across my cheek.

“Who did this to you?” I demand, the horror lacing my tone impossible to hide.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I lift my gaze to his. “It matters to me.”

He kisses me, and I melt into him, unable to stop my body’s reaction. No, I can’t let him distract me with his mouth. I press my hand to his chest and pull away from his lips. “Mace?”

The breath he blows out is partly frustrated but also hints at other emotions I can’t discern. “My mum. Some of the guys she brought around. Some dickhead in foster care.” I run my fingers over a white mark on his hip that appears bigger than the other scars. “That was three years ago.” He grabs my wrist before I can touch it again. “I don’t want to live in the past, Maylie.”

I understand that. I’m not a fan of my own either.

“I’m sorry,” I say, for both bringing up a painful memory and for what was done to him. “But I want to take care of you, Mace.”

“No one’s ever wanted to take care of me.”

“Me neither,” I say, “so let’s just take care of each other.”

“Fuck,” he mutters before crashing his mouth to mine.

Both of us frantically tear at the remaining clothing we’re wearing, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies like we’re possessed.

I can tell it takes monumental effort for him to release me long enough to turn on the shower, and while he’s messing with the dials, I trace a finger over his tattoos.

“Do they have meanings?”

“Some of them. I got a lot when I first joined the club. I guess it was my way of leaving my old life behind.” He points to a date on his arm—‘23.02.11’.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the date Maggie fostered me. She saved me from fuck knows what fate.”

My throat clogs with emotion as I think about Mace as a young boy and what he must’ve faced. “I hate that you went through that,” I tell him, my fingers trailing over the ink.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. Every single thing that has happened in my life led to this moment.”

“To the disaster I’ve brought to your door?”

“No, Maylie. To you. And that disaster ain’t just yours. It’s mine now too.”

I shake my head as he holds me in his arms, our naked bodies pressing together. I feel his cock against my belly, and my body thrums with need again, but this is important to talk about.

“I don’t expect you to fix my problems.”

“Your shit is my shit now. Get used to me fixing it. Come on, let’s get clean so you can get some rest.”

He steps under the spray, pulling me in behind him, and we spend the next five minutes making out before we actually wash ourselves.

When the water starts to run cold, he turns it off and grabs a towel, wrapping it around my shoulders. A second finds its way around his hips before he leads me back into the bedroom.

He pulls out a pair of boxers from a holdall in the corner of the room that I didn’t even notice, and he hands me one of his T-shirts. I smother the grin that wants to spread across my face as I pull it on, and as he asked, I don’t bother with my underwear.

When I climb into bed, he joins me a moment later, wrapping himself around my body like a vine. His hand rests on my abdomen before sliding between my legs. His fingers trail through my folds, back and forth in slow, sensual movements that leave my head spinning .

He presses a kiss to the side of my neck before removing his hand. “Sleep, Maylie.”

Is he going to keep stroking me like that?

He doesn’t stop, so I guess I have my answer. Even after he turns the light off, his fingers play with my pussy, and I let my eyes drift shut, giving into the tug of sleep.