Chapter 19
Em
I drop my sweatshirt in a panic. Two large hands seize me, one clamping down over my mouth, the other around my throat as he crushes me against his chest.
The feel of him is like steel.
With his arms ensnaring me, his fingers flex in a tense grip, digging into the hinges of my jaw, his palm at the front.
But he’s not choking me. Sharp breaths shoot from the little gap he left below my nose.
He tips my head to the side, and I squeeze my eyes shut on reflex even though it’s too dark to make out anything in the hallway. Maybe if I don’t see his face, he won’t kill me.
My pulse is rampant. The coarse stubble lining his jaw scrapes my cheek as he inclines his head.
That’s when I smell the sandalwood and spice.
Mason.
“Gotcha!” his voice grates into my ear. “How fucking aroused are you right now? Touch yourself and tell me.”
I roll my eyes in annoyance but make no motion to free myself from his hold .
Keeping his right hand around my throat, he skates the left one into my hair. He gives a pull, twisting my head and forcing my chin up until I can see his face fully.
Dark, hooded eyes rivet to my lips as he cradles my skull possessively.
“How was your date?”
“Oh God,” I groan, “you didn’t follow us, did you?”
His fingers fan through the hair at my nape while he delays his answer. It’s a reasonable question, considering his track record for stalking and the repeated B and E.
Did he break my window again? I just had the super fix that.
“No,” he replies gruffly.
Thank God. I feel a drop of relief. I don’t want to imagine him watching us at the lake like he did before at the park.
His fingers curl into a fist in my hair with an air of jealousy that carries into his voice. “How many times did he make you come?”
My thighs give a twitch. “Three times,” I blurt.
I don’t know why I lie. Maybe I want to provoke him. I like him handling me roughly with his hand around my throat.
His grip tightens, making my pussy throb so hard I vibrate. I imagine his hand there, working me just as harshly.
Fingers flexing around my jaw, he lowers himself, his mouth hovering over mine. “I can beat that.”
Oh fuck!
My lips part, and I suck in a clipped breath before his tongue dives in, bold and demanding, swirling around mine.
He curls the tip along the roof of my mouth on his retreat. “And I wasn’t kidding, Em,” he says with another skilled flick of his tongue. “Slide those fingers up your tight cunt, and let me hear how wet you are.”
His mouth crushes back down on mine as I gasp at his crude language, but I can’t help that it only arouses me more.
And then I do as he wants.
My right hand skims down the length of my skirt, dipping underneath the pleats while my left reaches up for his arm to steady myself.
I slide in at the side—for the second time tonight—and shudder. Slick, warm flesh meets my touch, readily welcoming the friction.
I ache.
I move my fingers in and out in a smooth motion, building on the cresting surge in my core. I feed into it. My hips roll in sync, grinding back at him.
My eagerness earns me a moan, and Mason’s heavy hand on my throat shifts, stroking me encouragingly.
The sound of his praise resonates in my chest. He fuels my climax without touching me. He’s in my head.
Sloshing sounds carry to my ears with the suction. I’m knuckles deep, my palm curved over my clit, but he’s the one taking me there, his demand, his voice.
“More!” he growls. “Let me feel you come.”
My muscles clench around my fingers as his words push me over the edge, and for a few seconds, I stop breathing entirely. My body convulses.
“Good girl.” His right hand gives my throat another praising squeeze, but his fist relaxes in my hair. “That’s one down. ”
Then his grip locks around my wrist, and he tows me to the bedroom.
Mason whirls me around him, backing me up toward the foot of the bed before his hands seize the hem of my top. He rips it over my head, then does the same with his hoodie and T-shirt in one go.
Stepping into me, one strong arm looped around my waist, he urges me backward onto the bed.
The mattress creaks with our combined weight when his mouth dips to my breasts. He suckles one, then the other, swirling his tongue around the pebbled nipple.
I whimper, arching in pleasure against his hold on me while scooting my ass toward the headboard to give him room.
His free hand slides up my thigh. With his other arm bracing my back, he pulls my underwear down one-handedly before settling fully between my legs.
The only thing I got left on are my skirt and combat boots.
Mason releases my nipple. Keeping up the assault with his tongue, he licks a trail along my stomach. His eyes flit up to meet mine, the dark green appearing almost black as he circles my belly button slowly.
I don’t miss the wicked glint. His hands slide under my ass, and I bunch the sheets at my sides to brace myself for his dive under the pleats.
A high-pitched yelp breaches my lips. His firm hold keeping me from squirming, he seals his mouth to me, hot and wet while he lashes out with his piercing.
Holy fucking shit! I shatter almost instantly, my hips bucking off the bed in spastic motion, fists clenching the sheets .
Mason lets me ride out the shivers against his tongue before rising. “Fuck, you look hot like that, baby girl.”
Moving up, he sinks into my shape. “You’re a man’s wet dream,” he groans, lowering his mouth to mine.
He rocks the hard bulge of his fly against my tender parts but then stops and lifts abruptly. “I want you to see what I see, Em.”
Mason rolls off. Propping himself up at the headboard, he pulls me back against his chest, spreading my legs.
Oh God! He has us facing my floor-length mirror across the room.
“Watch!”
As his left hand slides around the front of my throat, he takes my right hand, lacing our fingers, and guiding them to my awaiting pink flesh.
His coarse stubble scrapes along my jaw with intent. “That’s mine, Emily,” he declares, his breath hot at my cheek while teasing me with a soft touch.
Leading me, he traces my seam front to back, spreading me open.
“And you’ll remember that every time you come.” Then he pushes into me.
I draw in a breath as I stretch around our combined fingers. Mason moves them in and out, catching the sensitive bundle of nerves at the cusp on each stroke.
“Do you feel my brother’s cum inside you?” he asks, thrusting deeper. “Mixing with mine?”
A sense of panic prickles over my skin. Mason’s voice is cold and hard, lacking any form of amused teasing.
“But I was there first,” he tacks on .
Mason speeds up. He’s rough—much rougher and faster in his pursuit of my orgasm than I was earlier.
“And I’ll be there last,” he grates out, one hand squeezing my throat, the other one crushing mine as he pumps in and out of me relentlessly.
Oh God. I was right. He really is jealous. It’s not an act. They are competing over me.
But I can’t stop my climax. It rushes me like a tidal wave, and my body contorts in his hold as I cry out.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Mason flicks over my clit one more time, making me jerk, then locks his arm around my middle.
“Are you ready for the big finale, baby?” he asks before releasing my throat.
The bed shifts under his movement. “Cause I am.” Keeping my ass flush with him, he pulls his legs in and hauls me onto my knees.
Mason positions himself behind me, his straining hard-on rubbing against my bare skin insistently as his palm between my shoulder blades shoves my face into the mattress. Hands braced on either side of me, I can’t get up. He’s holding me down.
“I want you head down, ass up, baby girl.”
He bends over me, his fingers threading into my hair to pull my head back a little. My eyes lock with his in our reflections across the room. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to watch,” he rasps low in my ear. “Eyes on the mirror, Em.”
Mason straightens slowly behind me. Knees spread in a wide stance and chest flat on the bed, I watch him undo his belt, utterly mesmerized by the sensual movements of his hands.
When he pulls it out through the loops, I wonder whether he’s going to spank me with it.
I imagine the burn it would send across my flesh. The back of my thighs. My ass.
Heat flares with the acute throb between my legs, and I squirm in anticipation, my fists clenching the sheet.
Fuck! I want him too.
The curve at the corner of his lips that meets me in the mirror tells me he knows.
“You sure?” He arches a brow.
A nod is all I manage.
“Say, ‘Please, Mason, spank me with your belt.’” His long fingers slide along the black leather, folding it into shorter sections.
“Please, Mason,” I echo, a whimper chasing the words. “Please spank me—”
WHACK!
Ffuuuckk . Mason doesn’t hesitate. With a swift motion of his arm, he sweeps the rigid strap through the air. The leather streaks across my ass, the skin flaring white-hot.
Another whimper breaches my lips, and I start to tremble. The pain that follows the intense sting is exquisite.
My gaze rivets to his reflection in the mirror. To the way his muscles flex in the dark. To the exhilarated rise of his chest. Sweat glistens on his skin. He’s just as aroused as I am.
“Again?”
“Please yes.”
WHACK !
He swings again, smacking me on the opposite side, and my legs quiver. My knees sink. My hips undulate stiffly. I need to come.
WHACK!
The third strike catches the back of my thighs, and my orgasm explodes. I shatter into a million pieces.
My rushing pulse thrums in my ears, but I still catch the surprise in his voice. “Did you just come?”
“Yes!” I blurt to catch my breath.
Mason clicks his tongue with a note of amusement. “Bad girl, Emily. I wasn’t ready.” He tosses the belt to the floor and then fumbles with the rest of his fly. “You get that one for free,” he says, shoving his jeans down his thighs.
One hand at my waist, he teases me with the slick tip of his cock, nudging in just far enough to spread me open and letting me crown him, then retreating. I can’t take it. Tears spear into my eyes from the torture. It’s too much. I need him inside me.
“Please, Mason,” I cry, begging him to fill me.
He acknowledges my need with a grunt and stretches me around the thick head again. Then both hands are on my waist. Gripping me tightly, he yanks me into him to impale me on the first thrust.
I bury my face in the sheet and moan as the sensation rocks through me.
Mason’s left hand leaves my side to thread back into my hair, curling into a fist. “Eyes on the mirror, baby girl,” he reminds me. “I want you to see how beautiful you are when you climax. I want you to own it. Watch how much you love coming for me. ”
And then he delivers. He pulls back to plunge his engorged length into me repeatedly, hard and deep, pummeling me with his thrust.
I take all of it. He feels so good pounding his hips into me.
Sparks flash in my vision with his fierce, unrelenting pursuit, and when his breaths turn jagged, I know he’s close. I watch his face in the mirror, his beautiful features twisted in pleasure that I bring out in him.
Then I climax too, right there with him, my body gripping his pulsing length as he spills himself into me.
Mason rears back, face toward the ceiling, highlighting the erotic curve of his throat and Adam’s apple with a roar. Every muscle is flexed, his hips still jerking.
A smile curls my lips. I did that to him.
He pulls out, letting himself fall onto the bed, and I have the feeling he won’t be getting up any time soon.
I turn around and collapse beside him. I need a few moments to recover before I can manage to take my skirt and boots off. I’m not even sure I have the strength to get up and brush my teeth.
My gaze trails over Mason’s relaxed face, eyes closed, and breaths deep. He didn’t even bother tucking himself away.
I chuckle. I guess I can muster up the energy to give him a hand with his clothes. At least, I don’t have to spend the night alone after all with a murderer at large.
My head turns toward the curtains, and a frown creases my brow .
I don’t know how he got in this time. The bedroom window looks untouched, and I didn’t see a crowbar anywhere either.