Chapter Twenty-Four #2
He punches our order into the cash register, and I swipe my credit card.
A few minutes later we’re outside with our ice creams in hand, the air smelling faintly of sunbaked asphalt.
Mason’s already lapping the base of his cone to stop it from dripping.
We claim a weathered picnic table under the red striped awning, the wood warm against my legs.
Mason licks his ice cream—a marbled mixture of blue, yellow, and pink.
“Did you know superman ice cream was invented during the Prohibition era in Michigan?” I blurt.
He pauses mid-lick, staring at me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, poking at a chunk of cherry with my spoon. “I’m full of useless trivia facts.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth. “I don’t think they’re useless.”
I glance up. “No?”
“I think it’s sexy.”
“Huh?”
“Your intelligence,” he clarifies.
I roll my eyes, but my chest feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the sun.
“You want some?” he offers, thrusting his half-eaten cone at me.
I hesitate. “Uh—”
“I think we’re long past sharing germs,” Mason says lightly before dropping his voice. “I mean, you’ve had my cock in your mouth.”
My eyes widen as I frantically scan the patio. Thankfully, we’re alone. “You’re disgusting.”
“You like it,” he shoots back, grinning.
I take the cone anyway, and—because I can’t resist—drag my tongue slowly over the melting swirl while locking eyes with him. The sweetness coats my tongue, and I let out an exaggerated, satisfied moan.
“So good,” I groan, handing it back to him.
His throat bobs as he swallows, fingers tightening around the cone. “You’re gonna pay for that later,” he warns, low and certain.
I smirk before taking a bite of my own ice cream, teasing my tongue around the spoon. “Oh,” I say, drawing it out, “I’m counting on it.”
***
We barely make it through my front door before Mason pounces on me—lips crashing onto mine, urgent and hungry.
His hands lock around my waist, pulling me close until I can feel every hard muscle press against my body.
The kiss tastes faintly of melted ice cream, sweet and cold against the heat between us.
He grips my ass, pulling me flush against him, and we stumble blindly toward the staircase. We tumble clumsily up the steps, laughing between kisses. When we reach my room, he pushes me back onto the bed and climbs over me.
“I wanna be inside you again,” he grumbles against my lips.
I whimper, clinging to him like he might disappear if I let go. “Please.”
His lips curve into a triumphant smile as his hands drift to my jeans, swiftly unfastening them.
I lift my hips, letting him strip them off in one swift motion.
They hit the floor, leaving me in only my underwear.
His gaze lingers on the straining outline there, and his palm cups me firmly, coaxing a desperate buck of my hips.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, fisting my tank top.
I swallow hard. “Y-yeah.”
His eyes darken as he strips it away, tossing it aside. His mouth finds mine again while his fingers trail down my bare chest, brushing over my nipples before tugging at them. A choked whine escapes me.
“Love how sensitive you are,” he murmurs, mouth lowering to my heated skin.
He latches onto my nipple, licking and nibbling. I squirm as an electric pulse of pleasure shoots through me. He grinds onto me and lets me feel the hard press of his erection against my thigh. I bet it’d feel even better in my mouth.
“Mase,” I whine, clawing at his shoulders. “Want you to fuck my mouth.”
His eyes flare with heat. “God, yes.”
He strips his shirt, his sweat-slick muscles flexing in the dim lamplight. He detaches his insulin pump and sets it carefully on the nightstand before sliding out of his sweatpants and boxers, cock hard and flushed.
He straddles my chest, letting me feel the firm crush of his thick thighs. I open my mouth expectantly. He strokes himself once, then smacks his dick against my tongue.
“So fucking eager for it, aren’t you?” he taunts.
I moan, my tongue twitching beneath him.
His cock inches into my mouth as he feeds it to me. His hands anchor to my hair, holding me steady. He looks down at me, eyes dark with desire.
“Tap my leg if it’s too much,” he says.
I hum around him, meeting his fierce gaze.
He slowly rocks into me, and my tongue gently twirls around him. The tip of his dick knocks against the back of my throat. My eyes sting at the pressure as he starts thrusting.
The burn is addicting. Spit dribbles from the corners of my lips as they stretch around his girth. The loud slurping sound of his cock fucking my mouth fills the hot air between us.
Mason grinds his hips forward, driving deeper down my throat. I swallow greedily, tears sliding hot down my face as he finds a steady rhythm. My own dick throbs with need, wet and aching.
“Christ, look at you,” he groans, rubbing his thumb down my cheek. “Letting me fuck that smart little head of yours—letting me fuck you stupid.”
My lashes flutter, my mind foggy with raw desire. My hand drifts beneath the waistband of my briefs, wrapping around myself and squeezing tight. His fingers twist in my hair and give a sharp tug, sending a shiver rippling down my spine.
“Wait, wait,” Mason grunts, releasing from my mouth with a wet pop.
I pant heavily, trying to catch my breath. “What’s wrong?”
He smooths his thumb across my jawline. “Nothing,” he assures, voice ragged. “Just… don’t want to finish yet. Need to fuck you.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Oh.”
Grabbing the lube from my nightstand, he settles between my thighs. He yanks off my underwear and bends my legs to expose my hole, making me shiver. He squirts a dollop of lube and warms it between his fingers.
He pushes one finger inside, slow and steady. The heat of his gaze on my face, watching for my reaction, is too much for me to handle. My eyes screw shut as I rock down against him.
A second finger joins the first, stretching and coaxing. I clench around the girth as he spreads them apart, stretching me wide. His other hand grips my cock, thumbing over the dripping slit.
“You’re so tight,” he muses, slipping in a third finger. He crooks them and rubs my prostate.
I gasp and arch off the bed. “God, yes, right there!”
“You’re gonna feel so good around my cock,” he mutters.
“Please,” I beg, rocking down on his fingers. “Fuck me already.”
He hums before pulling out his fingers, causing me to whimper at the loss. He rolls a condom over his dick and makes a show of drizzling some extra lube on his length. Even though he’s been inside me before, a pang of fear rips through my belly as I take in his sheer size.
He flips me over with ease and positions me on my hands and knees. He kneels behind me, the blunt head of his cock nudging at my clenching entrance.
“Ready for me?” he asks, voice low and gravely.
I give a clumsy nod.
He pushes inside gently, inch by inch, rubbing my hip soothingly. The pressure is intense and all-consuming. I grasp at the bedsheets, white-knuckled. I feel impossibly full.
“God,” Mason moans, remaining remarkably still as he bottoms out. “You take me so well. You okay?”
I grit my teeth. “Yeah. So fucking good.”
He pulls out until just the tip remains, then slams back inside. He fucks me with an agonizing tenderness, barely brushing over my prostate—close but not enough. I clench down around him purposefully, drawing out a groan.
“C’mon. Don’t be gentle,” I plead.
He obeys and starts snapping his hips, fucking me fast and deep. It punches a breathless, strangled moan out of me, still hoarse from him fucking my throat. His fingers bite into my waist, hard enough to bruise.
“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking gorgeous.”
I whimper and push back against him to meet his thrusts halfway. His hipbones slam against my ass with a delicious ferocity. As he rails into me, the sound of wet, slapping skin fills the room.
Mason angles his hips and nudges my prostate perfectly. I drop to my elbows and cry out, not caring how needy I sound. I just need him to keep doing that.
“Are you close?” he asks, his own voice unsteady and on-edge, like he’s barely holding it together.
I nod shakily, my thoughts melting into a warm, fuzzy place where I feel inexplicably safe. “Please, please, please.”
I’m not above begging at this point. I’m desperate for it. His cock feels heavenly as it plunges into me, stretching me wide and stroking all the right places.
“Be a good boy and come for me, Hunter.”
He reaches around my waist and grabs my shaft. It only takes a few pumps before I’m coming hard all over his fist, whimpering pathetically and pushing back against him.
He releases moments later, stilling inside me as his orgasm rips through him with a strangled moan. I can feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside me as he collapses against me, spent. His heart thuds like a drum against my back.
When his breaths even out, he pulls out and grabs a tissue from the box on my nightstand. He cleans my come off his hands and peels off the condom. My gaze lingers as he tugs his sweatpants back on and tucks his pump back into his pocket, reconnecting the tubing.
He crawls back into bed and tugs me against his warm chest. His soft lips press against my temple.
“Did you like that?” he asks quietly, almost vulnerable.
I chuckle. “Obviously.”
His arms tighten around me. The room smells faintly of sweat, sex, and the floral fabric softener lingering on the duvet beneath us. For a long time, we just lie there, the steady thump of his heartbeat against my cheek making my eyelids heavy.
After a stretch of silence, Mason shifts slightly, his breath tickling my hair. “Hey… do you have any plans for the Fourth of July?”
I shake my head against his chest. “Nope.”
“Good,” he says, exhaling like he’s relieved. “Aliyah and I usually go watch the fireworks on the beach. This time she’s bringing her new girlfriend, Cam. I really don’t want to be a third wheel. Do you… want to come with us?”
My head tilts up so I can see his face. “Like a double date?”
He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of, I guess.”
I grin, warmth blooming in my chest. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
His smile softens as he kisses my cheek. I close my eyes, but I know the fireworks I’ll see next week won’t come close to the ones already bursting in my stomach right now.