Chapter 41 – Mason
Chapter
Forty-One
MASON
King is incredible at blackjack, and I enjoy simply watching him play. He quits when he’s up by eight thousand dollars, and we step away from the table.
“What do you want to do now, Hotshot? Take me for dinner with your winnings?”
He brings his mouth much closer to my ear than he usually would in public. “I’ll buy you dinner, Playboy. But how do you feel about room service?”
I feel all kinds of things, most of them in my cock. “I love room service.”
We walk through the casino and take the private elevator to the presidential suite, and even in there, we refrain from touching.
Sexual tension sizzles between us like it’s a living, breathing thing, growing fiercer with every moment we deny it.
By the time we get into the room, we’re worked into a frenzy.
As soon as the door closes, we clash, mouths hot and frantic for each other, bodies flush, hands grabbing and taking what we want.
It’s frenetic and chaotic and beautiful.
I pin him to the door, one hand fisted in his shirt and the other around his throat, holding him in place while I kiss him like he’s the air responsible for my breath. He lets out a ragged groan that makes me smile against his lips. I love making him come undone.
“How does this date that’s not a date compare to the last one?”
He arches an eyebrow, and we take a much-needed breath. “I guess it’s okay, but I seem to remember there was dancing during the last one.”
Fuck me, I love this playful side of him, and I’ll do everything I can to bring it out of him more often. “I think I can fix that.”
I take out my cell phone, connect it to the suite’s Bluetooth speaker, and quickly choose a song.
He smirks at me when the opening beats of “Chasing Cars” begin to play. “Do you have a playlist of all the songs we used to make out to on there?”
I step closer, sliding my arms around his waist. “I do now.”
He grabs my hips, and his body sways against mine as we resume our kiss, less hurried than before. This is sensual and sweet. A kiss born of knowing we have all the time we need.
When the song ends, we dance to the next one. Until King’s stomach growls and a laugh bubbles out of me. “I believe you said something about dinner.”
He nods. “Food, then fucking?”
“If you order the soufflé, we’ll have time for fucking before food too,” I tease.
We untangle ourselves from each other, and he grabs the menu before lying back on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head. “Fuck, I can’t choose. This all looks good to me.”
I straddle his hips. “Then order one of everything.”
He drops the menu to his side. “That would be a waste and would wipe out all my winnings.”
I pull off my T-shirt and toss it on the floor.
“Then let me pay. What’s the point of having a billionaire boyfriend if not to let him buy you an entire Michelin-rated menu?
” I fall forward, and my hands land on either side of his head, but he plants his hands on my ribcage, stopping me from moving any closer.
His eyes narrow on my face. “I don’t want your money, Mase. You know that, right? That’s not why I’m with you.”
I bend my head, pushing against the resistance of his hands, and dust my lips over his. “I know, mi rey. I was teasing you.”
His warm breath mingles with mine, and he shifts his hips, rubbing his semi-hard cock against my ass. “And I’m supposed to be buying you dinner.”
“Okay, buy me dinner. But I already have my dessert right here.”
He slides his palms down to my waist. “Oh, you do?”
“Sure do.” I take his lip between my teeth and bite down gently.
He digs his fingers into my hips and grinds me on his cock, making mine ache. “I really like the sound of that.”
I rest on my forearms, trailing my teeth along his jawline and rubbing myself against him until he’s groaning with need. “You know what I really want?” I whisper in his ear.
“What?” he grunts, his back arching.
I flick my tongue over the shell of his ear. “The lobster.”
With a feral growl, he flips me and pins me to the bed, and I find myself laughing too hard to attempt to stop him. Grabbing my hands, he easily holds them above my head when I offer no resistance at all. “Food, baby boy,” he rasps. “And then you’re getting fucked.”
He reaches for the phone on the nightstand with his free hand and dials room service. Still straddling me, he keeps me trapped between his powerful thighs and stares into my eyes while he orders us both the lobster.
“I really need to fuck you, Mase.” His voice is pained and desperate.
“Lube is in my bag,” I pant.
He scrambles off the bed and goes to his bag rather than mine. Of course he has lube too. I told him to pack an overnight bag.
We enjoyed our lobster dinner, along with a few glasses of fine Scotch, and declared that the food portion of the evening had well and truly canceled out the fucking part. So we watched a movie, happy to simply lie with each other.
That all went to hell when we were brushing our teeth. First, our eyes met in the mirror. Then came the slightest brush of our fingertips. That was all we needed to reignite our feverish hunger for each other. We fell into bed, a tangle of limbs and tongues, kissing and grabbing and biting.
King crawls back over me, coating his cock in lube with one hand and nudging my thighs apart with his knees. He trails his tongue across my collarbone and growls. “You’re fucking delicious.”
I grab his hair and pull his lips to mine. “So are you, Hotshot. And I believe you’re my dessert.”
“Then you can have me, baby.” He sinks all the way inside me with one smooth thrust that takes my breath away.
I cling to him, waiting for him to nail me to the mattress. But he presses his forehead to mine and pulls out in agonizingly slow motion before pushing back inside again, his shaft massaging my prostrate with every thrust.
Pleasure rockets through my body. My eyes roll back in my head. “Fuck, King.”
He breathes heavily. “I love you, Mase.”
I glide my hands down his back, kneading his taut muscles. “Love you too.”
He pushes deeper, and a growl rumbles in his chest. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Holy fuck. My legs are shaking. “I’m yours, King.”
“Only ever mine, baby.”
“And you’re only ever mine.” I pant out the words, my cock aching between us with the need to come.
I drag his mouth to mine, and he continues fucking me to the same deliciously slow rhythm.
Our bodies operate on muscle memory, limbs moving in unison, skin gliding against skin.
It’s effortless and exquisite. My existence narrows, and I’m made of nothing but need.
I dig my fingers into his muscles and wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him as deep as I can.
King rests a hand on the base of my throat. “I’ve only ever been yours.” He kisses me again, his tongue lazily fucking my mouth as he takes us both to a long, brain chemistry–altering climax. The kind that shreds our souls.
I’ll only ever be his. He is so much a part of me, he’s in my DNA, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.