Chapter 11 Mason #2
Frankie stiffens, and the haze in her eyes flickers. Her body stills beneath my touch, all that molten heat cooling in an instant.
Shit.
She shoves me back. Not hard or dramatic, but enough to put space between us. Her expression doesn’t twist or flare, it just shuts off.
“I’m going to bed,” she says, already moving.
“Frankie—”
“I’m tired.” Her voice is cool and clipped, and she grabs the blanket from the floor and tosses it at me without looking back. “You can take the couch.”
She nudges me backward, and the bedroom door closes with a clean, intentional click but springs slightly open again. She doesn’t fix it, just makes her way to the bed.
I stand there on the threshold, half-dressed with her scent still clinging to my skin. My cock is straining against my pants, heartbeat thudding in my throat.
I wait one more moment before I turn and make my way to the couch, slowly sinking down onto it with a sigh.
This is definitely my own dumb fault. I ran my mouth. Pushed too hard and said her online name like it still meant the same thing. As though I hadn’t left her wondering if I was dead in a ditch somewhere while I sat there convincing myself that pulling away was noble. That silence was protection.
It wasn’t.
It was cowardice, and now she’s behind that door, furious and hurt and maybe crying and I just… I can’t fucking move.
Time blurs into hours, and the snowstorm intensifies.
I toss a log on the fire when the flames start to fade and pull the blanket over me. Try to close my eyes to rest, but can’t stop seeing her face. Her mouth. The way her breath stuttered when I touched her. The way she stilled when I said Red.
I should’ve said her real name. Should’ve told her the truth the second I stepped through that door, not waited until my cock was hard and her lips were on mine and everything felt too fucking good to ruin.
The fire pops, and I drag a hand through my hair. My body aches from lying in the same position for too long.
Then I hear it. Faint, barely audible over the soft crackle of flames.
A moan.
I freeze, not moving an inch so I can listen harder. It could be anything. A dream, a restless sound in her sleep. A trick of my desperate, unhinged imagination.
Until I hear it again. And this time, there’s no mistaking it.
A breathy whimper. Sharp and stuttered, followed by something faint and rhythmic.
“Mason.”
My blood stops cold, then ignites.
No. No fucking way.
My name on her lips. My real fucking name, moaned out of that mouth. That’s what shatters my restraint and yanks me to my feet, blanket falling to the ground like ash.
I step toward her door, and through the narrow gap, I see her.
She’s spread across the bed, tank rucked up beneath her breasts, those sleep shorts nowhere in sight.
Thighs wide open, knees bent, one hand gripping the sheets, the other holding the purple vibrator. Her brows are pinched, lip caught between her teeth, head tipped back as her chest rises and falls in shallow pants.
I go completely still, because she doesn’t know I’m watching. And I know I should back away, I know I should give her privacy.
But then her head turns, her lashes flutter open, and her eyes lock on mine. She doesn’t scream or scramble to cover herself.
She smirks.
Heat slams through my gut. My cock twitches like it knows exactly what it wants to do, but I haven’t fucking earned it yet.
“Frankie…” Her real name scrapes out of me this time, rough and stunned and almost reverent.
She doesn’t stop.
Instead, she slowly arches for me, legs spreading wider as she drags the toy up her pussy, slowly circling her clit.
Her tank’s shoved beneath her tits, nipples flushed and stiff. She tips her head back for a beat, then lolls to the side again—eyes finding mine through the crack in the door.
She knows exactly what she’s doing. And fuck me, it’s working.
I reach for the door frame above, fingers curling against the wood as I nudge the door open another inch with my knee, eyes not leaving hers.
This scene right in front of me is the same I replayed every night in bed with my fist around my cock and her voice in my ear. Every time I pictured her like this on the other end of the line, breathless and ruined and coming just for me.
Every fantasy I’ve had for a month straight is crashing to life right in front of me, real and raw and so fucking beautiful I can’t breathe.
She moves the toy again, swirling it slow and dirty as her hips roll to meet it. She lets out a broken whimper, then another. Her free hand drags up her body to tug at one breast, twisting her nipple until she gasps.
And I lose it. I can’t take it anymore.
My knees go weak and my mouth opens as I cling to the doorframe for dear life.
“Frankie,” I rasp. “Fuck. I would live on my knees for you.”
Her lips part slightly silently, and she watches me for a moment through heavy eyelashes.
Then she lifts the toy from her clit, leaving it slick and glistening, and lets her bent knees fall wider apart.
“Prove it, then,” she says. “Crawl.”
My pulse pounds in my ears and I drop to my knees.
There’s no hesitation, just a burning need. I crawl toward her slowly, honed in on the sight of her bare, exposed pussy. I’ve been starving for this, for her.
Her thighs part wider in invitation. The toy is still in her hand, and she glides it back down in lazy circles as she watches me approach.
She knows she has me, and she’s savoring it. And I will give her everything she lets me.
“Good boy,” she murmurs when I reach the edge of the bed.
Fuck.
My jaw clenches as I bite back a whimper, hands reaching up to slide up her calves. She lets me touch, lets me trace the soft skin behind her knees before I dip my head and press my mouth to her inner thigh.
“You’re perfect,” I mutter against her skin. “Fuck, Frankie. You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of this.”
Her breath catches when I kiss the inside of her thigh again.
“I think I do know,” she rasps. “You used to tell me what you wanted to do to me every single night.”
My eyes flit up to hers. “That’s right, sweetheart. I fucking heard you come and it still wasn’t enough. I thought Red was enough.” I lick along the crease of her inner thigh. “But she was never real.” Another lap, closer to where she’s dripping for me. “You are.”
Her whole body shudders.
“Frankie,” I whisper, reverent now. “I want you.”
She shudders and the toy falters slightly in her hand, so I take advantage of the moment. I lean in, ghosting my mouth over the curve of her pussy without making contact, just letting her feel my breath.
“Mason,” she begs. “Please.”
“Now you say please?”
She growls, then gasps when I lick a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit.
“God—”
“That’s not my name.”
“Mason,” she pants. “Mason, please.”
I grin against her wetness, and then devour her. Filthy and relentless, my tongue fucking her, sucking her clit, letting her ride my face like she was made for it.
I don’t give a shit that my knees are bruising on the hardwood, or that I’m rock hard and aching.
All I care about is her. Frankie.
Her taste, her sounds. Her thighs trembling against my cheeks as she fists the blanket beneath her and falls apart on my tongue.
She comes with a choked cry, her legs clamping around my head.
But I don’t stop, not until she’s panting, whining, dragging me up by the hair and tasting herself on my lips. Her hips rise to my throbbing cock through my pants, and I know she’s desperate for me to give her more.
“Condom?” I rasp, breath hot against her lips.
“I’m on the pill,” she gasps. “Unless you want—”
She gestures toward to the bedside table drawer, but I shake my head. “I don’t want. Wanna feel every inch of you.”
My eyes catch on the plug, still glinting on the table, gold and glittery and so goddamn festive. I look back at her, cheeks flushed and chest rising hard.
“You like feeling full, baby?”
Her responding grin is sinfully smug, and she rolls to her side to reach for the bedside table.
“Was planning on using this earlier,” she says, twirling the sparkly base of the plug between her fingers. “Figured if I couldn’t have your cock, at least I’d have a good time.”
My vision blacks at the edges, blood rushing straight to my dick as she hands it to me.
Fuck. Me.
“You wanna do it?” she asks, gaze locked on mine.
“Fuck yes.” I don’t hesitate. “I want you stuffed and shaking while you moan my name.”
A soft gasp escapes her lips as I sit back on my heels and drag her closer by the hips, draping her legs over my thighs. Then I grab the lube and generously coat the plug, letting the slick sounds torment her while I watch her writhe.
She reaches down to spread herself for me.
“Goddamnit, Frankie,” I breathe. “You’re so wet for me.”
“You made me this way,” she replies, raising her knees higher. “So do something about it.”
She whimpers as I press one slicked finger against her tight hole, easing it in slowly and letting her adjust.
She groans. “Fuck, Mason—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, curling my finger. “You’re doing so good for me.”
Another whimper and her hips roll toward my hand.
“You want the plug, baby?”
She nods. “Please.”
“Good girl.”
I slowly slide my finger out and reach for the plug, pressing it gently to her hole. She flutters around it, gasping as I nudge it in.
“That feel good?” I rasp.
She nods frantically, one hand fisting the blanket, the other reaching for me. “More.”
I slowly ease it the rest of the way, until it’s fully seated.
“Christ, you look good like this.” I lean forward and kiss her, my hand still between her thighs. “So pretty and desperate.”
“I am desperate,” she whispers, eyes glinting. “You’ve been edging me with your mouth and your words for weeks. I wanna feel you fuck me, Mason.”
I tear my joggers off, no finesse left in me. My cock’s heavy and leaking, aching to be buried deep. I clamber back to her, my hands gliding up to her hips.
“Still good?”
She nods, eyes wide. “Better than good.”
I press a kiss to her mouth again, then grip her hips tighter. “On your knees.”
She scrambles to obey, the plug gleaming between her cheeks as she turns and bends forward.
Fuck, I’ve never wanted anyone this badly in my life.
“Hold onto the headboard.”
She curls her fingers around the wood, breath catching as I rise behind her.
The curve of her back is perfection, the plug nestled snug between her cheeks, her pussy soaked.
I line myself up, one hand steadying her hip while the other wraps around my cock, then slide in with one deep, slow thrust.
Her moan is long and desperate. “Mason—”
“God, fuck.” My voice cracks. “You feel—shit—you feel unreal.”
She pushes back against me, greedy and frantic. “Harder.”
“Yeah?” I thrust again, deeper this time, feeling the pressure of the plug against my cock. “You want it harder, baby?”
“Don’t make me beg,” she pants.
“Oh, I love it when you beg.”
I pull back and drive into her again and again, the angle insane with the plug still inside her. She clenches so tight around me I can barely move, but I do.
I keep moving, keep thrusting into her like I’ve waited my whole damn life for this.
“Fuck you're so wet,” I growl. “You love being full like this, don’t you Frankie? Can’t stop shaking for me.”
“’Cause you feel so good.” Her breath hitches. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again.”
I reach around, letting my fingers find her clit. She whimpers as I stroke against the wetness, then slap it.
The wet smack echoes like a goddamn gunshot, loud and obscene in the quiet cabin. Her whole body jolts, but she doesn’t pull away, she presses into it.
“Oh my god, yes,” she chokes. “Keep going.”
My hand comes down again, a wet tap against her slick clit.
“Fuuuck, Mason,” she cries, knees buckling as she pushes her hips to meet each thrust. “Don’t stop, please, don’t—I’m gonna—”
I bite gently into her shoulder and keep slapping, sharp smacks between slow and brutal thrusts, every sound that leaves her mouth pure filth.
“You love it like this, huh” I rasp against her neck, tapping rhythmically against her just to hear the sounds she makes. “Getting your pussy spanked while you’re stretched and plugged and fucked so deep you can’t think straight.”
“Yes—fuck, yes—”
She’s so gone, I fucking love it. Moaning, begging for more. For me.
“I can feel it,” I pant, driving into her harder, the headboard rattling against the wall. “Every time I slap your clit, you clench around me. You gonna come like this, baby?”
“Yes, please—Mason, please, tell me I can—”
I circle her clit in fast strokes, alternating with wet slaps against it, never letting up. Her whole body coils tight, muscles trembling under my grip.
“Then come for me, Frankie” I snarl, cock throbbing as I thrust deep. “Right fucking now.”
She explodes with a guttural cry, her whole body seizing beneath me, spasming so tight I see stars.
“Frankie,” I gasp. “Frankie, holy shit—”
I come with a brutal groan, slamming deep one last time and emptying inside her. Her head drops between her shoulders, breath stuttering as she rides out her high.
And fuck, I’ve never seen anything hotter.
I reach down and give her ass a smack, just to see it tremble under my hand.
She chuckles. “You into spanking pussy, Mason?”
I grin and lean over, kissing the space between her shoulders, my hands travelling up her ribs, cupping her tits.
“You moaned like it was the second coming, baby.”
She huffs a laugh. “It was the second coming. And I came very hard.”
“Then yeah.” I bury my face in her neck. “I’m very into it.”