Chapter 28 – King
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
KING
We take a cab from the club to Mason’s penthouse, and I don’t know if the Scotch from earlier has worn off completely, but I’m nervous as hell. And I’m never nervous about fucking. I have no idea what to do in this situation. I’m always the one in control.
Mason places his cell phone and black Amex on the coffee table, then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and simply watches me, his dark eyes roaming my body, like he’s enjoying how nervous I am. Maybe this was a huge fucking mistake.
“Come here,” he says in that deep, soothing voice I imagine he uses when he’s convincing billionaire investors and buyers to do whatever he wants.
I take a few steps closer, wanting to reach out and grab him. Resisting the urge to smash my mouth against his and kiss him until neither of us can breathe—before I bend him over his sofa and fuck him into submission. I curl my hands into fists at my sides and let out a shaky breath.
Mason’s eyes narrow. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, King. I’m not that much of an asshole. The door’s right there.” He glances over my shoulder.
He’s not even a little bit of an asshole, but I’m not nervous because I don’t want this. I’m scared as hell because this is a big fucking deal to me. I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good to know.” He slides one hand to the back of my neck and holds me possessively as he rests his forehead against mine. “I know this is a big deal.” He presses a soft kiss on my lips. “But it’s still just me and you. And we’ve done this plenty before. Whatever happens, I’ve got you, okay?”
I don’t deserve this level of concern and comfort from him.
Not after the way I treated him. But that’s one of the things I admire most about him—he is a genuinely good person.
He’d never willingly cause someone pain.
He’d never humiliate or betray them. If I’m going to do this once in my life, then it should be with him.
My shoulders drop, tension slipping out of my muscles. “Yeah.”
“Good boy.” He flashes me a wink that has my cock twitching. “How about I get you nice and relaxed first though.” Without another word, he drops to his knees and his deft fingers make quick work of my jeans.
“You been hard since the club, huh, Hotshot?” he teases, gripping my aching shaft.
I thread my fingers through his hair, feeling more in control already, which I’m certain was his intention. “I’m always hard around you, Playboy.”
He hums with his lips against the crown of my dick and sends vibrations of pleasure shooting through me. “Yeah you are.” His tongue darts out, and he sweeps it over my engorged head, causing me to groan his name.
I dig my fingers into his scalp. “Jesus, you’re so fucking good at that.”
He chuckles, his breath caressing my skin. “Just wait until I fuck you.”
There’s no time to process those words because I’m hit with a lightning bolt of pleasure as he takes my cock into his expert mouth, his tongue flicking the underside of my shaft.
He swallows all of me, his throat flexing around the tip of my cock.
Motherfucking fuck. He is so goddamn good at that.
With my hands on the back of his head, I thrust my hips, driving my cock deeper.
He sucks greedily. I risk a glance at him, and the sight almost undoes me.
His eyes are cast upward, shining with moisture, full of hunger and …
trust? You have to trust a guy to let him fuck your throat like this.
And it’s a trust I don’t deserve, least of all from him, but I am undeniably grateful for it.
I swipe away a tear that’s squeezed from the corner of his eye. “You look good with my cock in your throat, Mase. Fucking perfect.”
He swallows again, and precum weeps from my slit.
How does he have a mouth so sinful, yet so fucking heavenly?
Mason James is my addiction. The one thing I can’t seem to live without, no matter how bad he is for me.
His fingers dig into my quads through the denim, gripping my muscles tight.
Euphoria shuttles through my veins, pleasure coiling at the base of my spine.
I give one last thrust and empty my load into his throat.
He doesn’t even gag. Perfect little fuck toy.
One hand still fisted in his hair, I pull back a few inches, letting him breathe and swallow every last drop. He’s still looking at me, eyes never leaving my face, watching me as he unravels me thread by thread.
With a deep breath, I slide my spent cock from his mouth. He licks his lips, gaze hungrier than ever. We both know what happens next. My legs are trembling, and not only from the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me. He stands, bringing us face-to-face.
The pleasure still coursing through my body mixes with panic.
“My turn, Hotshot,” Mason growls, and the sound travels straight to my balls.
My fingers are still threaded through his thick hair, my grip no less possessive and controlling than it was a second ago, but he’s no longer submissive.
Not even a little. He’s all top energy, his deep-brown eyes sparking with a dangerous glint.
His grin wicked—wolfish. This is the real him.
The man he lets everyone else see. That other side of him—the side that had him on his knees taking every inch of my cock—that’s only for me.
I hold onto that reassuring thought, because this is a part of me that will only ever be for him.
He cups my jaw in his hand, squeezing firmly, letting me know he’s as powerful as I am. Not the skinny kid from high school, back when I had sixty pounds and a few inches on him. No, he’s more than capable of knocking me on my ass, and he wants me to know it. What the fuck have I let myself in for?
Before I can overthink this and run, Mason crashes his lips against mine.
His tongue slides into my willing mouth, and I taste myself on him.
Like it always used to, the taste of my cum on his tongue is enough to have my cock hardening again.
He guides me backward until the backs of my knees bump up against something. His bed.
He slips his hands under my T-shirt and glides his warm palms over my abs and up my chest as he pushes the material higher, exposing my skin to the cool air.
He removes my T-shirt, my jeans, my socks and shoes, my boxers, taking his time with each one, fingers and lips skimming the flesh he exposes.
How can he be so unhurried, so leisurely in his movements when he’s hard as fucking stone?
My cock is hard again, leaking at the tip.
Desperate for him. Eager for his touch. He grazes his fingers across the crown, and I shudder, causing a dark laugh to tumble from his lips.
Then his mouth is at my neck, nipping and sucking.
I clench my hands into fists at my sides to stop myself from tearing off his clothes and pinning him to his bed.
Because then I’d fuck him. Raw and hard. No condom. Nothing between us.
The thought sends ripples of desire skittering up my spine.
“You’re being such a good boy for me, King.”
I snarl instinctively. “Don’t fucking push it, Mase.”
He laughs again. He’s in complete control, and while I don’t love it, I don’t hate it either.
Definitely don’t hate when his hand slips between my thighs and he squeezes my balls, already heavy with the need to cum again.
Don’t hate when he shoves me backward onto the bed.
I especially don’t hate watching him remove every scrap of his clothes, revealing his perfectly toned body.
All rippling muscles and olive skin. Not to mention his thick cock, hard and lined with thick veins, weeping precum from the slit.
He’s a work of fucking art. My mouth waters.
I’ve never been that into sucking cock—I’m too fucking selfish—but with Mason …
I would sell a kidney to have him in my mouth right now.
He grabs a condom and some lube from the nightstand and tosses them on the bed beside me. A stark reminder that my mouth is not where he intends to sink that monster cock tonight. My ass cheeks clench, and I take a deep breath. As much as this is freaking me out, I want it. I want him.
Mason kneels between my spread thighs and slides his slick fingers between my ass cheeks. “You okay, Hotshot?”
I nod, my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips. The tip of his finger dips inside me, and my muscles tense. He lies over me, his mouth resting against my ear. “Relax, babe. You can take me.” He pushes in deeper, and the strange sensation makes my balls draw up. I definitely don’t want him to stop.
“Fuck, Mase,” I groan.
He adds a second finger and works them a little deeper, prepping me for his cock. And fuck, he’s a magician with those fingers. My cock is weeping with the way he’s massaging my prostate. And when I’m moaning and grinding into the mattress, he slips his fingers out of me and pushes himself up.
With one hand gripping the base of his shaft, he tears the condom open with his teeth and rolls it on. Every move he makes is so slow and deliberate. He’s a fucking master at building anticipation. No doubt he’s enjoying making me wait as long as possible.
He works his hand up and down his thick shaft, covering it in a generous coating of lube, although I suspect no amount could be enough.
He drops onto his forearms and checks in with me again. “You ready?”
I nod, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. I want this with him more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I don’t feel close to ready. I suspect it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker before it feels anywhere close to good.
My fingers clench, twisting in the sheets. He runs his nose over my jawline, notching the crown of his cock at my asshole. “Relax, King. This will feel good, I promise.”
I release my hold on the bedding and rest my hands on his shoulder blades. His powerful muscles flex beneath my palms as he holds himself back. I trust him, and that’s all that fucking matters. This only goes as far as I want it to.
Mason inches inside me, pushing through the tight ring of muscle. “Jesus fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.”
I take a deep breath while he murmurs words of encouragement in my ear and pushes in a little deeper. The sensation of him filling me is strange but deeply satisfying. It feels better than good. Jesus fuck, it feels amazing.
My eyes roll back in my head. “I want more.” I grunt out the words, and he smiles against my skin.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Greedy boy.” He chuckles but sinks deeper.
My legs shake, and light explodes behind my eyelids. “Fuck!”
“You’re taking me so well, babe.” He hisses out a breath before he pulls out and drives into me again. “Your ass was made for me. And nobody else will ever fuck it. Nobody but me, right?” He drives in harder.
I throw my head back into the pillow, bearing down so I can take more of him, enjoying the moment far too much to argue and remind either of us that this is nothing more than a casual hookup.
But he’s right. Mason is the only guy I’ve considered this with, and as amazing as it is, it’s amazing because it’s with him.
My fingertips dig into the taut muscle of his back.
His teeth and lips lash against my neck as he fucks me.
I don’t care that he’s in control. I don’t care that he could unravel me with a single word.
I focus on the delicious sensation of being full of his cock, of having his hard body nailing mine into the mattress.
Of having him all over me. I’m made up entirely of need now, chasing another orgasm despite the amazing one he just gave me.
I wedge my hand between our sweat-slicked bodies, grasping wildly for my aching cock, but he grips my wrist and presses it to the mattress.
“Nuh-uh. Let me make you come like this.” He presses his lips against my ear.
“I can feel how close you are. You love my cock in your ass.” He drives harder and I see stars. “Don’t you?”
Motherfucker! I’m pinned by him, unable to move and unwilling to be anywhere but here, with Mason James nailing me to his bed.
“Don’t you, King?”
“Yeah,” I pant, squeezing my eyes closed as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life tears through my body like wildfire. Every cell in my body trembles with the force of my release as it spurts across my chest.
“Good fucking boy,” he growls.
I’m too spent to tell him to stop calling me that. His hips thrust once, twice, and he goes still and moans my name. He murmurs something unintelligible, possibly in Spanish, his chest heaving as he pants for breath.
The tender kiss he presses on my forehead has tears burning my eyes. He gently slips his dick out of me. “You okay?”
Worried my voice will crack and betray me, I can only nod. Mason and I have crossed a huge fucking line—at least I have. That wasn’t a hookup. It was so much fucking more. Thankfully, he rolls onto his side and gets rid of the condom, and it gives me the opportunity to get myself together.
But he doesn’t stray far, and a few seconds later, he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs my body against his. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up as soon as I can feel my legs.”
For the briefest moment, I let myself fall under his spell. I imagine him taking care of me, wrapping me up in his arms until I fall asleep. And then maybe we’d do everything all over again when we wake up tomorrow.
Pity I can’t let that happen. I’m not a bottom. Not submissive. No longer someone who cuddles after sex. Not even for him. “I can clean myself up.” I force myself out of his arms and grab my boxers off the floor.
“I know you can. I was just being—”
“Just being what?” My head snaps up, and I glare at him, trying not to let the hurt on his face get to me. If I think for a split second about what a douchebag I’m being, I’ll crawl back into that bed and let him do all the things he’s thinking of right now. And that can’t happen.
“A decent fucking human,” he says, his handsome features marred by a deep frown.
I avert my gaze, unable to stand that confused, pained expression any longer. After a quick scrabble around the floor, I find my jeans and pull them on, my chest still covered in my cum.
“Where are you going?”
I don’t look at him, making a show of searching for my shirt instead. “Home.” The ice in my tone makes me shiver.
“Jesus Christ.” He rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his eyes. “Just get the fuck out, King.”
He’s hurting. I fucking hurt him. We shared something incredible, and now I’m running away like a coward, and he knows it as well as I do.
But it’s better this way. He and I can never work.
We’re from two different worlds. And surely a little pain now is worth it to save us both a fuckload of it later.