Chapter Thirty-Four
Chloe
I’m smiling as I power down my computer, my workday done. It’s been productive and fun today at the office including a great lunch with Dell and Jenny. I really love working here and pray that when my affair with Mason ends, I won’t have to leave. He’s so busy there’s no reason we’d have to see each other much when the sex is over. I assure myself I can handle it, and I’m sure he can as well. He’s had a hell of a lot more partners than I have. He’s used to sexual relationships ending. There’s no need for awkwardness when it’s over.
Office affairs are stupid because they can cost people their jobs. It’s too late to think about that now or to have regrets. I’m in this, and it doesn’t matter how many times I try to talk myself out of it, it’s not happening. I like it too much to be the one to stop it from happening.
I’m about to stand when my phone rings. I think about ignoring it for a moment, but I’m technically on the clock for another two minutes. With a sigh, I pick it up.
“I need you to bring me the Rivers file,” Mason says. The sound of his voice sets my heart to beating a little bit faster. I don’t hesitate.
“Of course.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just hangs up. I haven’t seen him in a few days so as I pull the file from my desk, I realize my hands are shaking.
“Ready, Chloe?” Jenny asks as she moves in front of my desk, her coat on, her purse slung over her shoulder.
I hold up the large file. “Boss wants this. Go ahead and take off without me. I might be a while,” I say with a laugh.
“Nothing like a last-minute request of the day,” Jenny says. She waves and walks out along with most of the other people in the office.
My knees are shaking as I move through the dimmed hallways. When the end of the day comes, and there’s not a late-night meeting, the team rushes from the building as fast as they can, especially on a Friday night. I was going to work out, but I have a feeling I’ll get a much more satisfying one in just a few minutes.
Sex with Mason works so many more muscles than any treadmill can hit. By the time I reach his door I’m practically panting. It’s cracked open, so I knock on it, then push it open. He’s leaning against his desk, his hungry gaze burning straight through me as our eyes lock.
“I have the report,” I say, my voice trembling. His lips curl up the smallest bit.
“Lock the door,” he tells me, his deep voice a low growl that goes straight to my groin.
I shut and lock the door, then slowly make my way to him. He loosens his tie as I stop a couple of feet from him. I’m a puddle as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. The file slips from my fingers. I don’t care.
I can’t turn away as he strips away every stitch of clothing, his beautiful body revealed to me, making my mouth water. How is it possible a man can be this beautiful? He’s certainly been blessed.
“Your turn,” he hungrily demands.
He can command me anytime he wants. Without hesitation I slip off my jacket, then reach for the buttons of my baby blue blouse. My fingers are shaking so badly it’s difficult to undo the buttons, but after a few misses, I manage to unbutton it and push it off my arms.
He doesn’t move as I slowly get rid of my clothes. I’m not as confident as he is, standing in a bright room totally bare, but the way he’s looking at me sure helps. He wants me, and this is the biggest ego boost I can possibly get.
He closes the distance between us and pulls me against his hard body, his lips finally meeting mine. He owns me with his kiss, his masterful tongue tracing my mouth, his hands traveling up and down my spine before gripping my ass and pulling me tight against him where I can feel his hardness pushing against me. It doesn’t matter how many times we make love, it’s never enough.
He turns and lays me down on his desk. The cool wood feels good against my hot back. His hands, his big, beautiful hands, slowly make their way to the center of my chest, then lower over my stomach, which is quivering by the time he grazes his fingers over my wet core. But he won’t stay here. Of course he won’t. Just a quick brush of his fingers, then he moves his hands back up my body and circles my breasts, which are trembling with need.
Cupping my breasts as he squeezes, I have to press my thighs together as a moan escapes. Then, while holding the weight of my breasts in his palms, his thumbs brush across my nipples, and they instantly peak beneath his touch.
But again, he moves. “Please, Mason, quit teasing me,” I plead. I’m giving him exactly what he wants by begging. He loves to torture me, and as much as I love the build-up, I need him inside me. He’s always the one in control. I don’t see this ever changing. I like it.
“Mmm, you feel so good beneath my fingers,” he growls, his hot breath washing over my skin as he leans down and presses his lips against my stomach. I push up, seeking him out.
“Then quit playing with me and give me what we both want,” I demand. He gives me an evil smile before lifting me again and turning me so I’m now leaning over the desk with him pressed against my backside. I spread my legs, an open invitation for him to plunge inside of me.
I try to press up against his arousal, and he clasps his hands over my trembling stomach. “Tsk, tsk, darling. You don’t get me until I allow it,” he says.
“I’ll torture you just as badly when it’s my turn,” I warn. He laughs, his thickness quivering against my butt, making me even wetter.
“You can try, but you’re always too eager to have me inside your hot, wet body,” he taunts.
“I hate it when you’re so confident,” I pout.
“No, you don’t. It’s one of the things you love most about me.”
And dang it, he’s right. I love his confidence. Actually, there isn’t anything about him I don’t love. He makes me scream in ecstasy and laugh with joy. This man is all I think about. And he knows it.
When I stop fighting him, he caresses my skin. This time, I stay as still as possible and let him take his time. I know he won’t be able to hold out much longer.
As much as Mason knows me, I also know him. And if I keep wiggling against his arousal, he won’t be able to tolerate it. He’ll take me hard and rough which I crave. He’ll fill me with his girth and make me forget everything except for him. We both need this. We each need what only the other can give.
One hand cups my breast while his thumb circles my tender nipple before squeezing it until I cry out, while the other hand trails down my body.
But this time, he isn’t teasing. This time, he dips his fingers into my wet heat, and I spread my legs wider so he can reach me more easily. His now wet fingers circle the part of me that’s throbbing, and my pleasure builds.
Before I’m able to reach my peak, he moves, sliding down my wet lips before dipping inside and pushing up, hitting my other favorite spot. This continues for several minutes, bringing me closer and closer before pulling away again. I want to protest, but he’s never left me feeling dissatisfied. And I know he’s as worked up as I am.
“You’re so wet, baby. Are you ready for me?”
“Yes, Mason, I’m always ready,” I assure him.
He’s no longer taking it slow. Suddenly, his hands grip my hips, and he’s pushing me forward over the desk. I love all of the ways we make love, but this is probably my favorite. He’s able to sink so deep inside of me, and he pushes hard and fast.
Without warning, he thrusts hard, all of him slamming inside me. One thrust nearly makes me come right here and now.
“Yes, Mason! Harder! Faster,” I beg as I grip the desk.
“Yes, baby,” he growls as his fingers firmly grip my hips.
The only sounds that can be heard are our cries as he slaps against my ass, pushing deeply before pulling out and repeating over and over. The pleasure hits me like a tidal wave as he caresses my insides with his thick erection. He feels me coming apart, squeezing him, and he speeds up, then growls his pleasure as he empties inside of me.
We’re transfixed as we rise higher together before sinking back to reality. Then he pulls from me, and I can’t keep a whimper from escaping. This is the part I hate about sex. The incredible high followed by a moment of emptiness when our bodies are no longer connected. For a moment before he pulls me into his arms, I feel so alone.
But Mason quickly lifts me, then walks to the couch and sits with me wrapped in his beautiful embrace. I lean into him, my head cushioned against his thundering heart. A smile rests on my lips.
“Stay with me tonight, Chloe,” he demands. I’m so tempted. All I want to do is spend an entire weekend with him where I can fall asleep in his arms. I love being with this man.
“I can’t, Mason,” I say with a sad sigh.
“You mean you won’t,” he corrects.
“Don’t do this, Mason,” I say, sadness suddenly filling me. “You’re the one who wants it this way.”
His arms surround me. They tighten. Mason isn’t a man to be told no. I’ll pay for this. It’s not because he’s in love with me; it’s because I’ve become an addiction to him. It’s almost enough to make me stay. My other life has already been thrown away, but I need to make it official before spending weekends with Mason. It’s one thing I can do right.
After another fifteen minutes, I pull away. And he lets me go. When I look at him, his face is a mask. There’s no expression to show me what he’s thinking or feeling. I wonder when we’ll have enough of each other, when he’ll replace me with someone who will do exactly what he wants.
I gather my clothes, then walk into his private bathroom. I’m still trembling as I clean up and get dressed. Nothing seems to hurt me as much as walking away from him after we make love, but until I get things ended with Paul, I can only give Mason this one piece of me. I also need to remember this is temporary for Mason. I’m about to burn down my life, and then I’ll be alone in the end. It has to be this way, though.
Mason says nothing when I come out of the bathroom. I move over to him, give him a kiss, and turn and walk from his office. I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling. I rarely do. It’s going to be a long weekend, that’s for sure. I leave the building. It’s time to enter the real world again.