Chapter 8 #2
Everything is as I remembered, which surprises me for the amount of alcohol I’d consumed the last time I was here.
His super king bed sits dominantly in the large room, dressed with fresh white sheets.
Thoughts of Mason watching me as I drift off to sleep rush through me, and I quickly walk past the bed, feeling like an intruder in his private space.
I contemplate going downstairs to sleep on the sofa, but the idea of being alone in such a colossal space has me heading towards the en suite instead. I strip down quickly before stepping into his walk-in shower, the spray hitting me hard.
Spotting his body wash on the stand, I pop open the lid and inhale.
Hmm. That’s the stuff.
The woodsy scent expels some of my doubt. Mason wanted to take me home tonight—that must mean something.
Yes, he wants to have sex with you, Nina, not move you in.
Ignoring my own reasoning, I squeeze a generous amount of soap into my hand, lathering up my body and losing myself in all things Mason.
Reluctantly I step from the shower, struggling to see anything through the steam and condensation that’s filled the room. Wrapped in one of the super soft towels I found in the shelving, I walk back out to the room, a cloud of mist following me as I go.
Silence settles around me as I stand in the centre of the room. I can’t hear a thing, not even the girls. Looking down at myself, I wonder what I should put on.
Can I go to bed in my underwear?
I spot one of the adjoining doors slightly ajar and wonder if it’s his wardrobe. Would it be rude to go through his things? I tiptoe to the door, tentatively pushing it open, and the light flickers on automatically, making me jump.
My eyes do a quick scan of the room, relief filling me when I see a discarded white shirt on a grey padded stool in the corner of the room. I walk over, pick it up and bring it to my nose. Mase. Will his smell ever stop having this effect on me?
I slide the shirt over my head then smile down at myself. I look ridiculous. It’s huge, hanging low on my tan thighs.
Without overthinking this whole situation any more than I already have, I leave the wardrobe and get into bed, picking the side I slept in the last time I was here.
Lying on my back, I stare up at the ceiling, trying to think about anything but the fact I’m lying alone in Mason Lowell’s bed.
Mase
Fucking parents.
You’d think it would be the children calling up to ask for help, not the other way around. Scarlet couldn’t handle our father on her own, and it’s unfair to think that she could. Unfair that she feels the need to still live with him after all these years.
Since our mother died, my father has slowly been killing himself, his purpose gone with her last breath.
I rub my hands over my face harshly, the image of my dad slumped in his chair completely unresponsive, making my stomach lurch.
I need a fucking shower and my bed.
The elevator doors slide open, and the smell of liquor instantly assaults me. I lift my collar, sniffing myself, but it’s not me.
Fucking Elliot.
If he has brought Cece here, I will kill him; they’ve already caused enough problems for me tonight.
I take the stairs two at a time, desperate to shower and to at least try and get some sleep. It’s just gone three a.m. and my alarm is set for my morning workout in three hours.
The moment I step into my room, I feel her. My eyes seek out the silhouette of the woman in my bed—her soft, delicate curves covered by the thin fabric of my sheets. I swallow thickly. It’s not her. It can’t be her. Vinny wouldn’t have brought her here. He knows better.
It’s not her. I tell myself as I quietly step inside my en suite, ignoring the hope that consumes me because if anyone could erase the bullshit I’ve endured tonight, it’s her.
Nina
My body stirs as the bed dips behind me, awakening me from the most peaceful sleep I have had in months. His distinctive smell wraps around me moments before his arms do, his soft lips brushing across the exposed skin of my neck as he breathes me in.
“Angel,” he whispers.
“Mase, you’re home. What time is it?”
“You’re in my bed,” he rasps, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the taut lines of my throat.
His body moulds to my back as his hand runs from my bare thigh to my waist, dragging the shirt along with it.
“You want me to leave? Elliot—”
I sigh as his hand slides into the front of my underwear, cupping me with just the right amount of pressure.
He lifts his head to look down at me, his dark eyes piercing through mine in the moonlit room. “Try leaving.” He smirks, dipping one finger into my heat.
My back arches away from him, pushing me farther into the hand that cups me. Farther onto the thick finger that penetrates me at a deliciously slow pace.
“Mase,” I moan, turning to give him my mouth.
Our kiss is gentle at first, slow, as our mouths find a rhythm that fits, and I can’t help the soft smile that finds my lips as I think about the worry I faced at him finding me in his bed.
“Why are you smiling?” he whispers against my lips.
“I was worried you’d be mad at me coming here tonight, being in your bed when you got home,” I say, gasping against his open mouth as he pumps his finger inside me.
“You have no idea what you being here does to me, Nina.” He rolls his hips, his hardened cock nestling into the line of my ass as his lips find mine again, demanding and controlled in their assault.
His fingers leave me, spreading my desire through my slick flesh, then swirling around my clit before pinching it between his fingers. I moan when he pushes inside of me again, unsure how many fingers are stretching me wide.
Mason doesn’t stop. Not until I’m writhing beneath him, so close to falling over the edge, I can feel the tremor about to pulsate through me. As his hand leaves me, I whimper, but he wastes no time, grabbing my hips and flipping me to my back.
A moment seems too big a word to describe how quickly he enters me. Deep, harsh, and fully to the hilt.
“Oh my god!” I cry out as he groans, falling onto me. “Mase,” I breathe, feeling overwhelmed and consumed by him. “Shit.” I roll my hips, trying to ease the burning sensation between my legs.
“Stop moving,” he demands, bringing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. “Just stay fucking still a minute. Please.”
I smile up at the beautiful man above me, watching as he fights for control, fights to stop himself from coming.
Holy shit. “Mase, a condom!” I say in a panic.
“I. Know!” he grounds out, his body trembling above mine.
I roll my lips trying to hold back a smile.
“Angel, you need to stop fucking smiling,” he moans.
Not being able to help myself, I squeeze him tight, using every muscle I can convince to help me in what I’m sure will be my vagina’s very own assassination.
His cock twitches in delight as my walls contract around him. “Fuck!”
I should know better than to push the man, but it works.
With every last bit of his control shredded, he gives in, starting to move inside me.
He lifts one of my legs over his arm to push himself deeper, and my smile slips as his cock rubs against the spot inside me that he’s seemed to have already learnt so well.
Our bodies move as one, craving the release we both search for in each other.
“Shit, I can’t, you’re so fucking tight,” he moans.
“Not. Yet. I’m nearly. There,” I beg.
A growl leaves him as he drops my leg to the bed, then he is grabbing my hips in an unforgiving hold, pounding into me relentlessly as he pulls me onto him.
His lips take mine in a bruising kiss as I start to convulse around him, his own orgasm causing him to jerk above me.
I feel his cum fill me as his cock jolts inside my still throbbing core.
Lying completely sated beneath him, I bring my hand up to push his hair out of his face, looking into his eyes as they spark, the dark pools seeming to glow almost black. He has the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Can we name him Samuel?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“It’s not funny, Nina.” He smiles, capturing my lips in a soft kiss. “Please tell me you’re on something.”
I school my features, swallowing thickly. “No, Mase. I’m not.”