Chapter 6 Mason
Mason
This isn’t happening. It can’t be. There’s no way in hell I’ve got an angel on my lap, cuddling up to me like she wants to suck up every ounce of heat I’ve got to offer.
How in the hell did things turn out this way? Could it really be happening? Even with her mouth currently on mine, her fingers tugging at my hair, and such sweet sounds leaving her lips, there’s no other way to explain what this is.
As I deepen the kiss, coaxing her tongue to join mine, her touch begins to explore. One hand slides up, slowly, dragging over the pounding rhythm of my heart. Her touch is a trail of fire, scorching a path upwards, over the frantic pulse at the base of my throat.
Her fingers find my neck, and her touch is feather light. Can she feel my pulse thumping? I’m so dizzy in everything that is her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke away in concern.
My hands slide from her hips up her back, pulling her flush against me until not a sliver of space remains. I angle my head, deepening the kiss, and my tongue explores to see the depth of how far the sweetness runs.
Breaking apart for air, her head drops to my forehead. Scooching impossibly closer, she continues touching however she pleases, not giving a damn about what kind of damage she’s doing to someone like me.
“I love how big you are.” Murmuring the words against my throat, her compliment has my cock weeping.
At this rate, I’m going to make a fucking mess, and it’s all this woman’s fault. She keeps rubbing like she can’t get enough of the friction.
While I’m letting her touch me freely, I’ve been trying to be respectful. Yet, the longer I leave her doing as she pleases, the more I want to let myself do whatever I want.
Leaning down to kiss me once more, her little sighs of pleasure continue to feed me until she gets dizzy enough to pull back.
The air leaves me in a whoosh as she rests back against my knees. Flushed from the tip of her nose down past the neckline of her shirt, two fine points greet me in a welcoming wave. She’s a vision I have no business wanting this much, and yet I do—so badly it aches.
My mouth floods, and my fingers twitch, itching to feel her body against my palms.
“I’ve always thought you were the prettiest thing I’ve laid my eyes on.” Confessing the truth in a low whisper, my eyes coast over the goosebumps trailing against her skin. “Even now, you’re…”
Not just pretty. She’s the sun I didn’t know I was orbiting—the sudden brightness that turned my whole world gold.
From the moment I saw her pull up in front of that abandoned cabin, a home no one would dare consider giving love to, I felt it. My heart. Once broken into a thousand pieces, thought to never work again, suddenly came to life. Thrashing against my ribs, demanding to be let out.
Love at first sight is such a cliche, but it’s real. I don’t know how else to describe how I feel. Not without sounding like some obsessive next-door neighbor creep.
I wanted to know her name, her story. I wanted her smile to be for mine. For a whole year, I’ve longed for something that felt so out of my reach. Now look at us. Never in my life would I think I’d feel like this.
After all this time watching her, despite knowing how out of reach she was, the chance of her secretly sneaking in glances of her own has my skin feeling hot.
“You’re so out of my league, Nova.” Squeezing her sides, I feel the shiver that rolls through her body. “Women like you don’t think twice about looking my way.”
She lets out this offended grunt as her hands find my body. I fucking love the way she touches my chest. “Then I don’t have to worry about anyone else looking.”
Jealousy flows from her chest, and I can’t help but let my mouth curve at that. She’s talking like I’m already hers and… maybe I am.
Putting my focus on her body, I catch the way her chest heaves with each breath.
Barely hiding her arousal, her shirt clings to every curve.
Coming over here without putting on a bra should be a crime.
It’s a miracle I’ve been able to keep my eyes from lowering all this time.
Now that I’m staring, I don’t know if I ever want to look away.
This woman is going to be the death of me. Can’t even be polite. Not now.
Dragging my hand from her hip toward her thigh, she watches in a daze as my fingers wrap around her leg.
One squeeze later, she’s biting her lip to hide a small smile as she drinks in the appearance of my hand.
As hard of a concept as it is to believe, I don’t think there’s even a hair on my body she dislikes.
I’ve never felt this wanted by someone before. It’s dangerously addictive.
Parting my thighs further apart to spread her open, I narrow my gaze to where her thighs meet and swallow thickly. Something so out of reach is right here, ready for me to explore. In her flushed state, there’s no question of whether she’d let me touch her or not. It’s only a matter of when.
Dragging my fingers along her inner thigh, I feel every twitch and jerk of her muscle as I get closer and closer.
“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” I stroke the seam of her pants, and I can already feel the dampness teasing me through the thin material. The pad of my thumb presses further against her clothed slit, making her jerk against my thighs.
I already know the answer. Nova has to be a virgin.
If she ever let a man near her, they’d be smart to tie her down with a ring on her finger.
Hell, touching her like this, I’m already wondering what it would be like.
What if I gave her my last name, gave her my cabin, and this chair she seems so fascinated with? Would she want me back as badly?
As crazy thoughts continue flooding my mind, silence comes flooding in when she shakes her head, answering my question.
I thought so. Now, the only thing we can do is change that.
Continuing to rub her through her pajamas, I soak in the way she pants against my throat. “You want me to touch you directly, Nova?”
When I feel her nod, that’s all the confirmation I need. I don’t let any doubts slip in and stop me while we’re running so hot.
Pulling away long enough to make her whimper, my knuckles catch on the band of her pajamas and underwear before I experience what true wetness is.
When I slide my fingers beneath the fabric and finally, finally touch skin, my breath catches.
She’s not just wet; she’s slick, drenched for me.
My fingers glide through her folds without a single hint of resistance, and the sheer, silken heat of her is almost enough to make me come undone right there.
I find the heart of her, that perfect, swollen little bud, and my thumb brushes over it. Her next inhale is sharp, her eyes opening wide with surprise. I circle it once, gently, and her hips buck off my lap.
“Mason,” she gasps, and it’s a plea. Fuck, she’s at least touched herself before, right? This has to be more intense than what she’s used to.
I slide a single finger down, through all that liquid heat, to her entrance. I press, just the tip, and her body opens for me. It’s a tight, consuming warmth, a silken clutch that pulls my finger inside in one slow, wet swallow. She is molten, and she’s drawing me deeper into her fire.
She pulls back then, her eyes glazed over, her skin covered in a beautiful, fevered flush. “I always wondered,” she breathes, the words shaky, “what it would be like… for you to touch me like this.”
The confession wrecks me. Her hips rock, a slow, experimental roll that makes my buried finger slide deeper, and the sound she makes is pure, unadulterated pleasure.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, but it’s not enough.
I need more. I need to feel her stretch for me, need to feel the tight, fluttering grip of her around more than just one finger.
I press a second finger against her entrance, and she stills, her eyes widening for a second before they flutter closed. “Easy,” I murmur, my voice rough. “Just breathe for me, Nova. Take me.”
I push my way in slowly, and then her body yields, swallowing both my fingers in that same breathtaking, hot, wet grip. A broken sob escapes her, and I start to move, a slow curl and thrust that has her clutching at my shoulders.
My eyes are locked on her face, on the parted lips and the furrowed brow, on the absolute bliss that transforms her.
I watch her fall apart as I thrust my fingers, setting a rhythm that’s as old as time.
And then, I bring my thumb back to that swollen, needy clit, rubbing small, firm circles against it.
Her back arches as she stills, enjoying my touch.
As her brows pinch together and her lips part, I listen for every shaky breath, for every telltale sign that Nova’s about to reach her limit.
The way she’s squeezing around me, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to dream about my cock fitting. Not without hurting her.
“Mason…” Moaning my name so sweetly, her tone is going to haunt me through the rest of my years. Grabbing my free hand, she bites her lip and brings my palm to rest against one of her breasts. Through her shirt, I can feel just how supple she is. “Touch me more, please.”
Fuck me, is this really happening? The longer this plays out, the more it feels like one of my secret fantasies. Except, I’m not waking up all alone in my bed. The weight of her little rocking motions feels all too real.
Squeezing her chest, she arches into me, urging me to give her hardening nipple some attention, too. She’s a needy little thing, her body demanding my touch now. I’m happy to oblige. As she craves even more, she gives me one hell of a view by abandoning me to squeeze her other breast.
Nova’s a wet dream in physical form, isn’t she?
As my desire to continue this war with wanting pleasure to flood her senses, I pump my fingers faster, groaning in the back of my throat as her juices soak my palm, I thrust my fingers faster.
Hearing the hitch in her moans when I find her special spot, I hook her just right before she’s crying out.
Feeling her clamp down around my fingers, her walls fluttering madly around my slowing thrusts, her cry fills the room so beautifully. Seeing Nova come undone is a reward and a punishment all wrapped up in one package.
I don’t stop, don’t pull away, letting her ride out every last shuddering wave until her cries soften into whimpers and her body goes pliant and heavy against my chest.
Slowly, carefully, I slide my fingers from her warmth. The air is cool against my wet skin. My hand comes up between us, and I can’t help it—I’m captivated by the sight, by the scent of her that rises to fill the space between our labored breaths.
I meet her dazed, heavy-lidded gaze as I bring my glistening fingers to my lips. The taste is sweet as sugar, uniquely her, and I commit it to memory as the most intimate truth I’ve ever known.
She is utterly spent, her energy completely spent.
She doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t speak.
She just curls into my side, her cheek finding a home against the frantic, hammering beat of my heart.
I am still hard, still aching with a need so fierce it’s a physical pain, but she blinks up at me with those sleepy, sated eyes, and how could I ever ask for more?
This… this has to be better than sex. This trust is better than a few minutes of a pleasure high. This feels more permanent.
She mumbles something into my chest, the words slurred with exhaustion. “…just give me five minutes… I’ll return the favor, I promise…”
I shush her gently, my voice rough. Leaning over, I snag the soft blanket I’d brought out for her earlier and drape it over us both. “Hush, Nova. I’d rather stay right like this.”
She hums her agreement, a soft, contented sound as she nuzzles deeper against me, her body already going slack with impending sleep.
Once we’re covered, I look down at the crown of her head, at the way her dark hair spills across my chest. Is this real?
This peace, this weight, this sense of rightness?
I have to consciously will my heart to slow its frantic pounding, afraid the wild rhythm will keep her awake. I don’t want anything to disturb this.
Her breathing evens out, deepening and slowing. Mine eventually follows, syncing with hers in the quiet dark. The last thing I feel is the gentle weight of her in my arms, the last thing I know is that I am exactly where I’m meant to be, before we both drift into sleep.