Chapter 43 #2
A single bulging vein wraps around it. My hand stretches to engulf his girth as I stroke him. Precome beads at the glistening tip, and I lean down to lap it up, eyes rolling back as the taste overwhelms me.
He groans, hands flying to grip my hair.
I lick a single thick stripe along his cock, from the head down to his balls. My nose rubs against him to inhale the delicious heady scent. I mouth at the base of his shaft, flicking my tongue.
“Don’t tease,” Mason pleads. “It’s been three weeks without this. I’m dying.”
I glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, meeting his gaze as I take him into my mouth. My lips sink down, inch my inch, until his cock nudges the back of my throat. He groans and pulls at my hair.
“Holy fuck,” Mason gasps.
His cock sits heavy on my tongue, stretching my lips wide. My eyes sting at the pressure. I suck him slowly, drawing strained moans from his throat as I work up and down his length.
I grab his thighs, holding him steady as I suckle at the tip. Hot, needy whimpers tumble out of his lips, fueling my desire to make him feel good. I bob up and down, drool dripping down my chin.
“Baby, wait,” Mason gasps, gripping my hair tight. “I don’t wanna come yet. Wanna be inside you.”
God, I want that too. More than anything.
I release him with a wet pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Sit on my face,” Mason commands. “Gonna get your hole nice and wet for me.”
I groan, crawling toward him like a lion stalking its prey. I shed my briefs to release my aching cock, pink and leaking against my stomach. Mason’s eyes burn into mine as he licks his lips hungrily, pupils wide with lust.
I straddle his face, hovering for a second before sinking down. His tongue finds my hole, circling my rim as he squeezes my ass. He pulls me down until I’m worried I might actually suffocate him.
Tingles of pleasure pulse through me as I ride his face, gripping the headboard so hard my knuckles turn white. I rock back and forth, writhing with pleasure as his tongue plunges deep inside me. He eats me out like he’s starving for it.
A finger pushes against my entrance, easily slipping inside with the slick of his spit.
I gasp and grind down against him, moaning at the welcomed stretch.
He fucks me with his tongue as he gradually adds more fingers, eventually working three inside me.
I grab my own dick, squeezing the base to hold off my growing orgasm.
“Mase, please,” I beg, eyes rolling back blissfully. “Need you now.”
He groans beneath me, the vibration making my dick twitch. My thighs throb and tremble as I climb off him. Mason rolls on top and kisses me, the intoxicating taste of me lingering on his tongue.
“Baby,” Mason purrs. “I got my test results back. I’m clean.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest.
Last month, we talked about condoms. I already knew I was clean—I got tested right after I found out Travis cheated on me, and I hadn’t been with anyone else since. But Mason’s sexual history was a completely different story. He was quite… busy… during his freshman year of college.
I swallow hard, threading my fingers through his curls. “Oh. That’s good.”
He looks down at me with a soft, reassuring smile. “Yeah. I can show you my results if you want. Screenshots, paperwork, whatever makes you comfortable.”
I shake my head quickly. “No. I trust you. I don’t need to see it.”
He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone, searching my eyes. “You sure? We don’t have to—”
“I want to feel you. All of you,” I say, my voice dropping to a shaky whisper.
Mason nods, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before grabbing the lube. He drizzles some onto his length and pumps himself with his fist, coating his girth. I flip onto my belly and lift my ass into the air.
His cock nudges against my hole before easing inside, bare. I moan at the pressure, arching into it, wanting to feel him as deep as possible. He grabs my waist to hold me upright, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my hipbone.
“You alright?” he asks, stilling inside me.
“Yeah,” I choke out, feeling full and complete after weeks of waiting for this. “Please, fuck me.”
He pulls out until just the head remains, breaching my tight ring of muscle, and snaps back inside. A gasp tumbles out of my lips as I grasp at the bedsheets. He sets a brutal rhythm of deep, steady thrusts, his hipbones slamming against my ass.
“Oh, God,” I moan, rocking back against him. “Don’t stop.”
My wicker headboard slams against the wall, the bed frame creaking beneath us. Mason slows his thrusts, grinding deep, hitting that spot inside me that ignites like a struck match. Pleasure engulfs me, flaring up my spine and simmering in my bones.
“You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he rasps, breath hot against my ear. “Can’t wait till we’re living together. Gonna fuck you like this every day. You’re taking me so damn well—so good for me.”
The praise makes my cock throb. God, I always want to be good for him.
Mason looms over my back until his mouth finds the crook of my neck, biting down hard.
His teeth sink into my skin, sharp and deliberate, before he sucks hard enough to make me whimper.
The sting feels so damn good. I want him to leave a bruise, something that lingers after he’s gone back to Claremont Shores, proof etched into my skin that I belong to him.
He fucks me harder, deeper, pounding into me as the bed rattles. Every thrust sends sparks shooting through me, hot pulses lighting me up. It’s different without a layer of latex between us—just him, raw and desperate, clinging to me like he can’t get close enough.
My balls feel heavy, my dick aching as the pressure builds fast. He hammers into my prostate with perfect precision, and it’s too much. I’m trembling beneath him, overtaken by the sensation of his cock ramming inside me.
My orgasm slams through me without warning. I cry out, spilling onto my stomach in thick ropes, untouched. My arms give out, my chest heaving.
“Hunter, did you just—” Mason chokes on a groan. “Oh, fuck. Baby, I love you so much.”
With a final thrust, he buries himself deep, spilling hot inside me. I whimper, pushing back weakly, greedy for every drop as he fills me.
He slumps against me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, his lips trailing light kisses over my damp skin. His come leaks out of me, dribbling down my thighs.
When he finally pulls out, I whine at the loss. His thumb brushes my sensitive rim, then presses gently, pushing some of the slickness back inside me. I hide my face in my elbow with a helpless whimper.
“Fuck,” he marvels, tracing my entrance. “Look at you… full of me.”
He falls beside me, tugging me into his chest. I bury my face between his pecs, breathing in the husky mix of sweat, cologne, and skin. I want to drown in it.
Eventually, Mason peels himself off me with a reluctant groan and tugs his boxers back on.
The mattress shifts as his weight leaves it, springs creaking.
I blink, eyes heavy, and watch him pad barefoot across the room.
A moment later, the bathroom faucet sputters to life.
When he returns, he’s holding a damp cloth in one hand.
“C’mere,” he says softly.
Too content to protest, I let him wipe me down. He’s gentle as he cleans my stomach, his touch unhurried. He slowly works his way between my legs, wiping the leaking come between my thighs. My softened cock jumps when he cleans my hole, wincing with oversensitivity.
When he goes to toss the rag in the hamper, something makes him stop. He bends down, squinting at the tall plant near the window, his brows rising at the little wooden marker tucked in the soil.
“This new?” he asks, glancing back at me.
I prop myself up on my elbows. “Yeah. I bought it last week. It’s a dwarf Meyer lemon tree.”
He reads the marker again and huffs a laugh. “You named it Mason Bark?”
A smirk pulls at my lips. “Get it? Bark, like a tree? Because it sounds like Burke?”
“That’s horrible,” he deadpans.
“No, it’s amazing,” I insist, sitting up and stubbornly crossing my arms. “I’m a sucker for a good plant pun.”
He shakes his head, grinning as he looks back at the plant. “You’re such a dork.”
I pull him closer by the waistband of his boxers. When he leans down, I kiss him slowly, savoring the taste of his smile.
“Well, the plant is a lot like you,” I murmur against his mouth.
“Oh yeah?” he teases. “How so?”
I trail my fingers up his side, lingering over the curve of his ribs. “Tall. Sturdy.” My eyes flick toward the broad leaves stretching toward the ceiling. “And it’s a fruit tree.”
He squints at me. “Is that supposed to be a gay joke?”
“Maybe,” I say with a grin.
He groans and buries his face against my neck. “You’re ridiculous. I can’t believe you named your plant after me.”
“Of course I did.” I press a kiss into his hair, my voice softening. “And for the record, Mason Bark is officially my favorite houseplant.”