Chapter 18 #2
The word landed like an order. I obeyed, hips rising as he slid the silk down my legs. The air hit my skin, and I shivered when his knuckles grazed my inner thigh before he tossed the scrap of silk aside.
He stepped back, his gaze traveling over my body with undisguised hunger. Then his hands were on me again, fingertips tracing the straps of my bra before he eased them down my arms, inch by torturous inch.
He unhooked my bra. My breasts spilled free, and suddenly I was bare except for my stilettos. His palms closed over my breasts, thumbs rolling my nipples until I fisted the sheets and bit back a whimper.
He settled between my knees and ran his hand up my calf, taking his time, making every inch feel like a promise. He lifted my leg and drew it around his hip, holding me open, exactly where he wanted me.
Mason’s eyes held mine, dark and intense. “The heels. On or off?”
My breath caught. “Off.”
His grin turned sinful. He unbuckled the first strap with deliberate care, fingers warm on my ankle, and let the shoe fall to the floor. Then he removed the other one just as slowly, drawing it out until my thighs were shaking.
His hands slid up my legs, parting me gently.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” His fingertips traced down my belly, and I shivered, already aching for more.
His blue eyes dragged over me, lingering as they devoured my curves. “You’re gorgeous, Lila.” His voice was like gravel. “I want to taste every inch of you.”
Heat flashed through me. Mason took my mouth in a hard kiss, all pressure and intent, his tongue sliding deep as his hands moved over me like he already knew what he wanted.
I pressed into him, needy and impatient. He kissed down my neck and chest, then sealed his mouth over my nipple like he meant to claim it, coaxing a soft moan from me. Pleasure rolled through me, deeper with every slow pull of his mouth.
“Please, Mason.” My fingers clenched at his shoulders.
He kept going lower, unhurried. When he reached my thighs, he looked up with that wicked calm, like he meant to take his time and make me feel every second.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
“I want,” I managed. “I need.” The words tangled in my throat. “Please.”
His fingers found me and started circling my clit with slow, brutal precision.
“You like that,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.
“God, yes.”
He settled between my thighs and nodded once toward the mirror. “Watch.”
I lifted my gaze and a hot ache curled low in me. His head was between my legs, dark against my skin, and when his tongue dragged through me my hips jerked up. He held me steady and kept going, patient and merciless.
“Damn.” He spread me wider with both hands. “You taste like heaven. I could stay right here all night.”
His words were dirty, possessive, and somehow exactly what I wanted.
My fingers tangled in his hair as I looked up at the mirror again, pinned there by the sight of him between my thighs. “Mason,” I begged, shameless now. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He just picked up the pace, unraveling me with his tongue. Long strokes turned into quick, teasing flicks right on my clit until my vision threatened to blur.
Then a finger slid inside me, slow at first, and I jerked at the fullness of it. “Aw, fuck,” he breathed. “You feel incredible.”
I couldn’t answer. I could barely think. He added a second finger, stretching me, working deeper while his mouth stayed on me, relentless.
A broken sound escaped as my hips jumped, chasing what he was doing. His grip held me steady anyway, like he’d decided I didn’t get to run from it.
It was too much in the best way. Desire tightened low in my belly as his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made my legs start to shake.
“That’s my girl,” he said, and the praise hit like heat. “Let it out. Give it to me.”
Everything narrowed to his tongue and his hand, the steady pressure building, building, until he gave the final order, voice dark and sure.
“Come for me, Lila.”
A few more strokes and my vision went hazy. Pleasure hit low and brutal, tearing a broken sound from my throat. My thighs clamped, my hips jerking as it pulsed through me in waves. I gripped the sheets, trembling through the aftershocks.
When I finally started to come back to myself, Mason pressed lingering kisses to my inner thighs, like he wasn’t finished with me. Like he was taking his time.
He pulled away long enough to reach into the nightstand.
A condom. A quick, efficient slide of latex.
And then he was back over me, covering me with the solid weight of him, heat to heat, skin to skin.
I inhaled him, his scent and the faint salt of sweat, the hard line of his body pinning me to the bed until my thoughts went blank.
He kissed me like he meant to take me, not ease me down.
Mouth hard, hungry, claiming. His hands moved everywhere, gripping and stroking until I was squirming beneath him, dragged right back into that aching need.
Under him, I was wrecked and steady all at once.
The kind of delicious surrender that felt like power.
“Still sure?” he asked, mouth at my ear.
I writhed, my nails scraping his shoulders. “Yes.”
When he slid into me, we groaned in unison. He filled and stretched me so perfectly that for a moment, we stayed still, feeling every inch of the connection.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Our bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that was frenzied and perfect all at once.
Each thrust dragged another sound out of me. My hands clenched on his shoulders as pleasure rippled through me from the place where we joined, spreading wider with every slow, perfect stroke. I met him without hesitation, urging him on, chasing that bliss I couldn’t stop reaching for.
Our lips met again, more urgent now. His bare skin against mine rewired everything. Every drag of his chest, every shift of his hips made me chase him harder.
He pinned my hands above my head and set a faster pace. I couldn’t look away from the mirror overhead. The sight of us, messy and hungry and undone, lit something reckless in me.
“More,” I begged, clinging to him as he drove us higher, harder. He answered with a low growl, breath breaking against my neck. The pressure built fast, tight and relentless, pulling me to the brink until there was nothing in me left to hold back.
He hit the angle that had my vision flashing white. I shattered, my climax tearing through me so completely I could only clutch at him and take it, wrecked and trembling on the edge of too much. Mason followed moments later, coming hard as he buried himself deep one last time.
We collapsed together in a tangle of heat and breath and pounding hearts. When the world finally returned, Mason gathered me into his arms and pulled me close against his chest, his hand steady at my back. He pressed a soft kiss to my temple.
The tenderness hit harder than the sex. Almost loving. And it scared me how badly I wanted it to mean something, how much I wanted this to last. I knew I was playing with fire, but right now, I didn’t care if I got burned.