5. Lana
5
LANA
I want to ask Mason a thousand questions about what he thinks of the house and simultaneously hope he won’t see the cups that Beck left on the counter after swearing he didn’t have any in his room.
Did I change over the laundry?
Are the kids having fun?
Is it too soon for me to be dating?
Is this considered dating?
Am I okay with just a hookup?
Does he just ? —
“Mason,” I say desperately, “I’m spiraling.”
“Take your dress off.”
“What?” I ask, looking around the kitchen. “Here?”
“Here,” he says, taking a step forward, brushing the hair off my shoulder and fingering the strap of my dress.
Exhaling, I reach for the zipper at my back and pull.
Slowly.
Mason’s eyes hold mine, his fingers drawing delicate designs on my shoulder, his touch somehow grounding me as desire radiates from him.
He wants me.
With renewed confidence, I brush the straps from my shoulders, letting my dress pool around my waist before shimmying it over my hips and dropping it to the floor.
Mason’s gaze rakes over me, wetness pooling in the sensible nude-colored panties I wore so they wouldn’t show under my dress.
Lowering to one knee and then the other, Mason presses a sweet kiss to my belly before dragging his tongue along the top of my panties and pulling a gasp from my lungs. Bear lifts his head, judgment written all over his face.
“Stay,” I manage.
“Not goin’ anywhere, Dream Girl.”
I laugh but it’s breathy as he lifts my leg over his shoulder. “I mean, you too, but I was talking about the dog.” I wobble, trying to steady myself without grabbing at him.
Mason’s palm slips up and under the back of my panties to cup my ass as he trails little kisses and licks over my covered seam.
“You’re gonna wanna hold on,” he says, using his other hand to pull the tiny strip of fabric away from my pussy.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I moan, gripping his hair as he chuckles against me.
“Think of it like positive reinforcement. The harder you pull, the more turned on I’ll know you are.” He licks me again, and I tighten my fingers in his locks as pleasure rushes through me at the simple touch. “See? It’s already working.”
I want to laugh, but he doesn’t give me the chance, tasting and exploring me, circling my clit and moving down to dip his tongue inside me.
“Oh my God,” I moan as he does it again, fucking me slowly and better than Jacob ever had in our entire marriage.
And this is just his tongue.
The thought has me barreling toward the edge faster than I’m ready for, my chest flushing and my breasts heaving as I rock my hips against his face. He groans, and I’m so turned on I can’t think straight as he pushes me over the edge, devouring me as pleasure rips through me like a tidal wave.
It’s never felt so good.
Stars dance behind my eyelids as my body rejoices in such a momentous release, and I want more. I want him.
Opening my eyes, I look down. Mason’s gaze is nothing short of feral as he watches me, swirling his tongue with featherlight caresses as he pulls every ounce of pleasure from me.
“You ready to take me to your bedroom, Dream Girl?” he asks, still on his knees before me. “Or am I gonna spread you out on this table and feast on you some more?”
“I want to see if your cock feels as good as your tongue.” His eyes widen in surprise as his lips curl up into a devilish smirk. The words don’t feel like mine, but they’re honest and real and a little bit desperate.
Setting my foot back on the ground, Mason stands slowly, his hands traveling up my body, partially because I know he likes it and partially because he’s still holding me up. It’s sweet and thoughtful and so damn hot, I have to squeeze my thighs together.
“I love tasting you,” he breathes, and he peppers kisses over my collarbone and up the column of my neck. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, “but I need to know what’s okay tonight. Is there anything you don’t like?”
The question is a serious one, but it’s hard to think when his erection is pressing into my belly with enthusiasm and my pussy is throbbing with need.
Is there anything you don’t like?
Swallowing hard, I pull back, the need to see his brown eyes overwhelming. “Nothing from behind. He always?—”
Mason kisses me hard, his tongue plundering my mouth like he’s trying to erase every bad memory—every bad feeling—replacing it with passion and desire as I moan into him.
It’s a frenzy, his hands moving all over my body, the roughened skin of his palms heightening every sensation. Without thinking, I loop my hands around his neck and hook my leg over his hip. I want to be closer, grinding my core against his length. I want to climb all over him.
As if reading my mind, he picks me up, his hands gripping my ass as he grunts. Belatedly, my brain helpfully connects the sound with the fact that he’s holding me—carrying my weight. As I try to untangle myself from him, he grunts again, dragging my pussy over his cock. “Don’t even think about it,” he scolds.
“I thought I was too heavy,” I admit quietly as he moves down the darkened hall.
“Which room?”
“Last one at the end of the hall.”
He follows my directions and kicks the door closed behind us before spinning and pressing my back to the wood.
“Do you want me to fuck you right here?”
“I just?—”
Pinning me with his body, Mason grabs my wrists and holds them with one hand over my head.
“You’re not ready to boss me around yet; that’s okay,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue down my neck. “I have the patience of a saint, Dream Girl.”
His hand maneuvers behind me, unclasping my strapless bra with expert precision. The air is cool against my heated flesh, my nipples pebbling instantly as he cups my breast.
“I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast right here because I have a feeling no one ever has. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I gasp as he tweaks my nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers like he has all the time in the world.
“And then after I make you come all over me, I’m gonna lay you out on your bed and make love to you real slow, worshipping every inch of you because you are incredible, Lana. You’re fucking incredible.”
I want to cry, his words hitting so much harder than he can possibly imagine.
Or maybe he can.
Because from the moment I met him, blindfold and all, he just knew what I needed.
He releases my hands, and I hear the foil of a condom wrapper and then the sound of his zipper as he shoves his pants and boxers down enough to pull his cock out. It’s magnificent from what I can see and I want to taste him, make him wild with need for me, to be the one he’s begging for release.
“Stop looking at him like that or I’ll be fucking that sweet mouth instead of your pussy.” I gasp, my gaze flying to his at the audacity of his words. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I—,” I start, licking my lips as I conjure the image in my mind. “I don’t know,” I admit, both feeling turned on and uneasy at the idea of giving up that much control. To willingly let him thrust in and out of my mouth as I just take it.
“Lana.” He says my name with such reverence I have to swallow hard to keep the emotions at bay. “I will never do anything you’re not comfortable with. Right now, you don’t know what you want, so I’m going to push and see where you land.”
“Sounds like a hardship,” I say, trying for levity and shocked by the steadiness of my voice.
“It is,” he says, brushing the head of his cock against my entrance. I moan and he grins. “Ah, you definitely like that.”
“Yes,” I say as he does it again, teasing me and making me writhe against him. Holding me with one hand, he pulls my panties to the side and waits until I meet his gaze before pushing inside a little bit.
My inhale is sharp, the invasion intense despite how wet I am.
“Breathe,” he says, brushing his lips against mine. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” Mason rocks his hips, pulling out and pushing in a little more each time, stretching me with so much care, his muscles bunching and flexing as my nails dig into his shoulders.
“I thought you said you were gonna fuck me against this door?” I pant with a lot less bravado than I’m pretending to have.
“Oh, I am.” He grins, kissing me hard as he thrusts inside me until he’s all the way in. My words are unintelligible as he finds a slow rhythm. “I just need you ready for me, Lana.”
I whimper, my arms wrapping around his neck as I kiss and nip at the underside of his jaw. “I love the way you feel inside me.”
He groans, his hands flexing against my flesh as he exhales heavily through his nose.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, like he’s finally allowing himself to focus on himself rather than me. “I want it all, you hear me? I want your nails raking down my back, your hands gripping my hair, your teeth in my shoulder to muffle your scream. Give it to me, baby.”
A single nod from me has his hips flying, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he pistons into me. The intensity is almost too much to take, my body having long since forgotten this kind of sexual frenzy.
But in this moment, I’m alive.
Living.
And wide awake.
I grip his hair, yanking back enough that he has to fight my hold to move. His eyes are wild, his lips parted as sweat coats his skin. Taking my other hand, I slide my palm over my chest, down my stomach and between my legs, circling my clit just the way I like it.
“Fuck, that looks nice. That’s it, baby; make yourself come all over me.” Mason’s voice is like an aphrodisiac—the praise, awe, and command in his tone sending me right over the edge, my back arching as I come on a silent scream.
Burying his face in my neck, he growls my name, the door holding us both up by the time he finally stills, collapsing against me with a groan.
“Just gimme a minute,” he says, sounding exhausted, and I grin.
“Take two,” I reply, squeezing my core around his cock that’s still hard inside me. A shiver runs down his spine and he pushes us off the wall, turning slowly and walking us to the bed.
He sets me down gently, threading his hand in my hair and cupping my cheek as he kisses me.
“You, Lana Richards, are incredible.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease, pressing a quick kiss to his nose and making him chuckle as he gingerly pulls out, giving me the first real view of him. “Oh, wow,” I breathe, and then cringe because that was supposed to be an inside thought.
Mason laughs, low and throaty as he stands to his full height. “Let me go take care of this and I’ll be right back.” He’s halfway to the bathroom when he looks back at me over his shoulder. “Know the best part about bein’ with a younger guy?”
“You get to teach me all the hip lingo so I don’t embarrass my kids?”
“Ha—no. I’m definitely not that cool.”
“So tell me, what’s the best part about being with a younger guy?”
“Faster recovery rates.” He delivers the line with a wink, and I nibble on my bottom lip, holding his gaze.
Yes, please.
Because in a single night, Mason has proven just how lazy, just how selfish, my ex-husband had been in and out of the bedroom.
“Well, in that case, hurry up because it’s been a really long time since I saw so many ab muscles, and I have the craziest urge to lick every dip and valley before choking on your cock.”
“You really are a dream.”
“I don’t need to be a dream, but tonight I really just want to be yours.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“We’ll see when we get there,” I say, shimmying out of my panties and slipping under the covers. “Now hurry up. I have plans for you.”
He shakes his head and chuckles as he walks into the bathroom, mumbling something that sounds like definitely a dream under his breath. But it’s not a dream. This connection we have is the realest thing I’ve ever felt.
I just hope I’m brave enough to hold on to it.