31. Samantha
31
SAMANTHA
I woke up hot, sweaty, and pulsing with need. Mason was between my legs. His tongue licked me, about sending me off the bed.
So good. I panted. “Wha—what time is it?”
He lifted his head, just barely, before crawling up my body. “Fuck early in the morning, but I need you.” He positioned himself, his dick hard and ready. He used his knees to push my legs farther apart. Taking hold of his cock, he rubbed it over my folds, pushing up and back down before he leaned forward. A deep groan left him as he slid inside, holding himself upright with a hand on the bed beside me. We both moaned as he pushed all the way in.
“You feel so good,” he said hoarsely, his eyes closing a second. “Holy fuck. I needed you.”
The pleasure was immediate.
He waited until I adjusted to him, which I only needed a second. As our eyes met, he began thrusting, using long and strong strokes. He didn’t go fast, instead letting both of us savor the sensations. Letting it build.
Grow.
I raised my arms, one curling around him, and glanced over to see the time. Five in the morning.
God. This felt good.
He’d just gotten in? I wondered what he’d done last night, but also didn’t want to know quite yet.
He cursed under his breath, grabbed my legs, and moved farther under me to get a deeper angle. He looked down, holding my gaze as he powered into me, quickening his pace.
My mouth watered. The pressure rose. I felt it pooling, but I didn’t want to come this fast. Not yet. Not when I could see Mason was going to hold off and make me come more than once. He’d keep thrusting through my climax. Sometimes I loved that. Sometimes it drove me crazy. He was relentless, but I could see there was something more in him. Something dark. Hungry. A torment that was different from the way he’d been looking at me this last week.
I smoothed a hand over his forehead, traced his eyes, his cheek, his very square jawline. Up over his mouth, where he opened and sucked me in.
My heart sped up. He felt so good. Pushing in and holding. He rotated his hips.
I grunted. “Mase.” I couldn’t say more. I gritted my teeth, still trying to stave off my release, but he pushed back inside on another deep stroke. One hand went to my clit. He rubbed in long, circular motions.
We kept moving together.
I was losing track of time. My eyelids lowered.
I could do this all day. Feel this pleasure. It was intoxicating.
Was it normal? To feel like this with him? I hungered for him as much as I had in high school. I needed him even more. There were times I was exasperated with him, but this primal desperation for him that I felt inside of me, that never went away. It only increased over the years.
He cursed, arching more over me, and his hips began slamming into me.
My breath shortened. Jesus .
The pressure exploded. I gasped, grabbing for his wrist, and squeezing as I clenched around him. My climax ripped through me, the waves spreading all over, and I just lay there a moment as my entire body felt like a volcano had gone off inside of me.
When I came back down, my pulse steadying, Mason was still fucking me. I moved my hips with him, but he pinned me down, growling. “No.” He watched where he was sliding in and out of me, his fingers rubbing my clit.
I reached for his hand, wanting to pull him off me, but he put both my wrists together. Pinning them against the bed with one hand, he stretched himself over me. One hand continued to rub my clit, and his hips powered into me. Hard.
Brutal.
His eyes turned, meeting mine. I saw the need in him. He was angry. Something had happened. It had brought out the anguish he’d buried so deep inside. It had come to the surface, and he needed an outlet.
That was me.
He needed to dominate me. A shudder racked through me. He was going to bring me to climax over and over again—until he’d exhausted himself.
Fuck.
I relaxed my body, sinking into the bed. He released my wrists, delivering one word. “Stay.” When I closed my eyes, his hand curled around my throat. He held me there instead, his thumb resting over my artery so he could feel my pulse.
I succumbed to him, surrendering. Over the next hour and a half, he brought me to four more toe-curling releases. Finally I broke down, tears sliding free. “Mason, please.” I reached for his wrist and pulled his hand away from my clit. “I can’t take any more.” I was drained from all the sensations and emotions. He’d wreaked havoc on my body.
His eyes met mine. So stark. Hollow. He wasn’t fully here. He had hidden away inside of himself, seeking solace in the pleasure between us.
I cupped his face. “Come back to me.” I smoothed a thumb over his cheek again.
A primal growl rumbled from him. “You are mine.”
He pulled out, moved back, and flipped me over. His hands went to my hips. His cock thrust inside, and he yanked me up against him, my back to his chest as we both kneeled upright on the bed. His hand circled my throat again. The other slid down my stomach to rub me again. He panted into my ear, “Mine to please. Mine to take. Mine to fuck. My cunt.”
I tensed because fuck him . He was destroying me. “Mason.”
His hips hit me faster.
“Mason!”
His body jerked. His hand trembled at my throat. “Sam?”
Relief washed over me. My knees shook. He’d come back to me. I spoke, my throat moving against his hand. “I can’t take anymore. Fucking come, baby. The kids will be up soon.”
He cursed and let go of my throat. He fanned light kisses over my neck and eased me to the bed. He guided me down gently and groaned. His hands gripped my hips and I sighed as he drove into me a few more times and finally, fucking finally , he released into me.
My pussy squeezed him hard. I couldn’t help myself. It was a reflex. Another low rumble came from his chest as he collapsed on me.
We were both replete. Except I couldn’t catch my breath.
I— what is happening?
I waited until we were both once again in our bodies to look over my shoulder at him.
He avoided my gaze, slipping out of me, running a hand down my side. “Shit. I’m sorry, Sam.” He peppered those soft kisses again to my shoulder. “Jesus. Did I hurt you?”
I rolled over to lie on my back and wiped my hair from my forehead. “I mean, five times. You didn’t hurt me, but you drained everything out of me. Five times.” I tried to glare at him, but in all honesty, I’d been waiting for this. He’d been holding so much back. He’d told me what was going on, but him feeling it was different. I didn’t think this was all of it. I was just grateful for the start.
I ran a hand down the side of his face and let it fall to his chest. He laid beside me and raised my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss there.
“What happened last night?” I asked.
He tensed, stilling before he let out a soft curse.
My eyebrows shot up. “That’s not good.”
He cast me a look, regretful, before he shook his head. “I’ll tell you after we get everyone going this morning.”
He swung his legs down to sit on the side of the bed. I caught his arm. “You’ve not slept at all?”
He didn’t answer, which was the answer.
I got out of bed and rounded to his side. “You stay. Sleep . I’ll handle everything.”
He pulled me to stand between his legs. “If Maddy’s not drunk, she needs to go to school. It’s the consequence for staying up all night partying.”
The air in my lungs left me in a whoosh. “Maddy might be drunk? She might still be drunk?” A ball of fury formed in my stomach. Oh, child. Child of mine.
My jaw hardened, and I turned. I needed to shower, get myself dressed, and began plotting Mom vengeance. Maddy was screwed. She was so very screwed. Still drunk. My child was still drunk? Never again, my sweet little girl. She was going to rue this day.
I closed my eyes, already anticipating the look in her eyes when she saw me coming.
Mason caught my hand.
I gritted my teeth. “Mason.” But I curled my fingers around his, because how could I not? “Let me go handle her.”
He didn’t let go.
I looked back to him, but readied myself so I would not melt inside. I loved our daughter, but she tended to be daddy’s little girl. Mason went easy on her when he shouldn’t. The hard-ass parenting fell to me.
His eyes were soft, and when he spoke, I realized they were soft for me. He stood and cupped my face with one of his hands. “I was going to carry you to the bathroom, run you a bath, and while you were getting dressed, I want to get you coffee and breakfast.” His hands went to my waist, his lips grazing over mine.
I winced slightly, because they were a little swollen.
He withdrew. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He lifted a hand to touch my mouth.
I caught it, kissing it instead. “No. God, five climaxes, Mason. Five. You rode me until my bones melted into the mattress, but fuck. As a way to wake up, I’m not complaining.”
I still saw regret in his eyes. I pulled away, shaking my head. “Stop it. You’re the one that needs to sleep. Get to it. Don’t worry about Maddy. Me, her, and her hangover. The three of us are going to have fun this morning.” I didn’t let him argue, slipping away into the bathroom. After I’d showered, I found him back in bed.
He lay on his side, his muscled arms holding the pillow beneath his head. The sheet had slipped down so I got a good view of his muscular back, the angles and cuts of his lean hips, and a tantalizing tease of the beginning of his ass.
God, I loved him. I loved all of him. My man who shouldered so much of our world.
But this time, I would shoulder some of the weight for him, starting with our seventeen-year-old daughter. I got dressed and grabbed my phone, and the first text stopped me in my tracks.
Heather: Zeke Allen spent the night in the hospital because he’s got a freaking knife wound to the stomach. Wtf?? You wanted us to keep his wife busy last night. Tell me we did not have something to do with this.