Chapter 15 Lee #5
A bit of that mischievous look flared back in his eyes and he grinned at me.
“Yes, please…” he groaned. “I mean, ‘you may’.”
I leaned forward and brushed a light caress across his cheek, stroking my thumb across his cheek, along his face, gliding my fingers across his closed eyelids, feeling the brush of his eyelashes like butterfly kisses on my skin.
“Mason, May I… kiss your neck?” I whispered.
He groaned, his eyes half-lidded as he lay on the bed watching me, his throat moving almost convulsively as he swallowed.
“You may,” he whispered.
My lips brushed along his jaw, sucking gently at his earlobe before moving down to a little hollow along his neck, a spot right above his collarbone. My tongue flicked out and tasted his skin. I moaned this time, exulting in the salty taste of his fevered flesh against my tongue.
“Mason, May I… unbutton your pants?” I asked, starting to move down the bed.
He watched me as I crept down his body and this time he didn’t answer, simply nodded. I saw some of the tension he had exhibited earlier was back, and I felt a small tremor go through him as my face moved closer to his crotch.
I stopped moving.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” I said, waving a finger at him like a naughty child. “That’s not in the rules… What are the magic words?”
“Ass,” he groaned again, but this time a gritted, “You may” escaped his lips.
I continued down his body, nuzzling his skin as I lazily made my way down to his crotch.
I could see the way the denim strained with his erection, a wet spot darkening the front of his jeans, and I was practically salivating to be able to flick my tongue out and taste him, but I hadn’t asked yet.
God, this game was going to kill both of us.
I paused as I reached my destination, making sure his eyes were locked on mine as I reached a finger out to the straining denim. I watched his throat work again, as if he was having trouble swallowing.
Flick. My nail flicked at the top button of his jeans, the fabric springing open.
Fuck… they were button fly jeans… Flick.
Flick. Flick. The denim opened eagerly, stressed against the swell of his erection.
I could just make out the bulge of his cock straining behind the waistband of his underwear, long and thick and mouthwateringly close.
Mason must have been able to feel my breath brush across his skin, hot and wet.
I realized Mason and I were both breathing heavily now as I looked up at him from the bottom of the bed. I hadn't done much more than kiss him, but I had a feeling he was almost ready to come.
“Mason, May I…” I paused, overwhelmed at the depth of what I was feeling for this man right now as I knelt between his legs.
“…What? Fuck, what?” he asked, through gritted teeth. His desperation made me smile.
“Mason, May I… touch your cock?” I asked. I tensed.
Time froze, hanging on his response. For a moment, I thought he was going to say it was too much, that he needed to stop.
Oddly, I was okay with that. No, really.
Just kissing him tonight had been more than I'd dared hope to have from him after yesterday.
Everything else was just delicious, mouthwatering icing on this gorgeous, beautiful cake.
He nodded jerkily once, then he nodded a second time, this time with more certainty.
“I need you—” I started to speak, suddenly realizing I was pretty worked up myself by the look on his face.
I paused, took a deep breath to center myself, then cleared my throat and continued.
“I need you to say it,” I said, my eyes lost in his gaze, my own heart galloping.
“I need you to give me permission,” I urged, my hands stroking his sides gently.
“Yes. Oh god, yes you may…” He moaned.
I reached my hand out to gently trace the outline of his cock beneath his briefs.
He shuddered as my hands stroked over his erection, teasing gently along its head, down along its sides and gently stroking his balls through the fabric.
He moaned again as I touched him, his hips twitching unconsciously as he strained toward my hand.
“Oh, my fucking zebra gods…” he gasped. I slowly slid my hand away from his crotch.
“Congratulations! You’ve reached Level Two of ‘Mason May I’…” I announced in my best game show host voice, hooting and throwing in a few fake cheers.
“Level… what?” Mason spluttered, looking at me as my hand retreated. “Who said anything about levels? I did not agree to levels,” he growled at me, complaining. “There was a distinct lack of leveling when discussing this game.”
“But levels make it so much more fun to advance, my neophyte,” I purred, placing more kisses along his chest and abdomen. They seemed to mollify him somewhat, but he looked at me suspiciously.
“Hrmph,” he said, his mock outrage fizzling beneath my tongue. “I guess it’s not that bad…” he muttered. “Rules?” he barked at me.
“Level Two of ‘Mason May I’ is going to require a few more words than that, sweetie,” I said, sitting up.
“In Level Two, instead of me asking you what I may do to you, you tell me what you want me to do.” I could feel the devilish gleam in my eye as I sat up and smirked at him, his face nonplussed for a moment.
“I… wait, what…? No, no fair—” he began, but my lips stopped his complaints.
“Is it really that hard, baby?” I asked, nipping at his swollen lips. “Just tell Lee what you want. What you like. What feels good to you.”
“Well, yes, actually, it is hard. Super hard. Hard as a fucking steel pipe. So hard…”
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” I interrupted him as his words seemed to escape him. “This is a family show… Watch the language, please!”
“Show? What—” He froze, a shiver passing over his skin and the pink in his cheeks fading swiftly to a ghost-like pallor.
I watched his gaze dart around the room and for a moment, I was lost. What had I said?
Shit. “Show?” Oh, fuck. He’d told me Ricky had videotaped him being raped.
The thought of that being out there all these years, evidence of him being violated when he was at his most vulnerable, had to have weighed on him.
“Shit… I’m sorry, Mason. Bad word choice, I’m so sorry,” I began.
He held his hand up to stop my words, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
I felt the shudder run through his body as he fought whatever demons my words had summoned.
He began muttering something. I couldn’t quite make out exactly what it was, but I could hear him doing what sounded like some kind of countdown.
After a few moments I felt some of the tension ease from his body and he opened his eyes again and looked at me.
“Fuck. Guess I lost my level,” he said with forced gaiety, sadness and longing etched plainly on his face as he eyed me from across the bed.
“Mason… Mason May I… hold your hand?” I asked, laying my palm out, face up, holding my breath. I saw him swallow nervously, then breathed a sigh of relief as he stretched his hand out to twine his fingers with mine.
“Yes, you may,” he whispered. His eyes darted up from where they had been watching our hands to meet my eyes. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked, incredulous. This man was the most courageous person I knew. He wasn’t fearless, he had so many fears, but he faced them every minute of every day, just by surviving.
“For helping me regain my level,” he said, a wavery smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Ha!’ I laughed, squeezing his hand tighter. “Thanks for playing with me.” I said. “Or rather, letting me play with you,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows at him suggestively.
He chuckled.
“So, Level Two, right?” he asked.
“Mason, we don’t have to—” I started, but this time it was his lips stopping the words from leaving my mouth.
“I said it before, Lee.” He insisted. “I want this,” He gripped my hand hard, his eyes glittering.
“I-I…” he squeezed his eyes shut and shivered, then he groaned. “Why is this so goddamn hard?”
“I want you… I want you to fu… make lo… have sex… with me…” he managed to choke out.
He was so adorable when he was like this, his smile a little crooked, his cheeks and ears red with embarrassment and passion as he struggled to speak. I couldn’t help but grin at him as he choked the words out.
“I… I want you to kiss me, again,” he said, sitting up and sliding one arm around my neck. His voice gained strength as he looked up at me, obviously struggling to focus.
“And…” he started, but his voice trailed off for a moment, so I prompted him.
“Kiss you and…?” I said, raising one eyebrow at him in question.
“Touch me,” he continued. The hand that had been locked in mine unclasped to land gently on my neck, moved down my chest, caressing to my waist, then he moved his hand to his own body, until his beautifully strong fingers danced delicately over the front of his underwear.
“Touch me… everywhere,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine, his voice growing strong in certainty.
I smiled at the telling wet spot on the cotton briefs where pre-cum had soaked through. His erection had temporarily deflated but was now back in full force. At least I knew I wasn’t the only one enjoying this.
“Everywhere?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning at him as I brushed my mouth across the bulge at his crotch.
“Oh god, yes, please,” he replied in a gasp.
“How can I say no, when you ask so politely,” I rumbled.
I moved my arms to wrap gently around his body, pulling him closer to me. The feel of his hard muscles underneath my hands, his chest pressed to mine, the steel rod of his erection brushing against my own through the stiff fabric made me groan. God, I couldn’t wait to taste him.
I moved one arm up and slid my fingers through his silky hair. I’d never known anyone, man or woman, who had hair that felt as soft and silky as Mason’s.
I chuckled at his eagerness, but as soon as I reached to help him remove his pants he jerked away, and said, “Wait.”