Chapter Fifteen #3
I groan at the thought, hips thrusting up into nothing but air. Mason growls. His hand tightens in my hair until I whine at the pain and the tears that have been building in my eyes spill over. Part of me is glad he can’t see me any better than I can see him. I’ll look a wreck.
I want him to see that, too.
“Perfect little lamb,” Mason says, hips hammering forward faster as he chases his release. “We’ll do this again. On your knees before the altar. You’ll be pious. Worshipful.”
I’ll worship him . Through the darkness, I can almost see it.
Light filtering through the stained glass, fracturing over Mason’s pale skin and painting him the entire spectrum of colours.
If he’s lit from behind, I won’t be able to make out his features, but I think his eyes will still burn into me, glowing from within, every look a caress telling me I’m his, his, his …
Mason cries out and when he thrusts forward this time, his cock fills my throat so completely that I almost choke. I dig my fingers into his arse and thighs tightly enough to leave bruises. Mason groans above me, the deep, satisfied sound of a man who has everything he desires.
His cum fills my mouth, salty and thick, and I swallow what I can before Mason pulls back. He helps me sit up, hands faintly shaking, and then I swallow the rest, but not before some escapes down my chin.
I lift my hand, but Mason kisses me before I can wipe it away. He groans as he licks the taste of himself from my mouth, and I clutch him tighter, head spinning. I’m so hard, and I want to come, but I’m swept up in all that he wants, all that he is, and I don’t want to let go.
“If I told you not to come, you’d obey, wouldn’t you?” Mason says into my ear, voice low and dark. His hand wraps about my throbbing cock. I grab at the sheets, biting back a whimper.
“Y-yes,” I manage.
“You’d go out and hunt zombies with me like this?” He doesn’t move his hand. Doesn’t tighten or loosen his grip.
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
I don’t understand the sound Mason makes next. Surprise? Maybe. He kisses just beneath my ear, the touch that of a feather. I tremble.
“Is this too much?”
“Yes.”
Mason smirks against my throat. I feel the sharpness of it. He lifts his head and licks a line up my cheek, following the trail of a tear already shed.
“Good,” he says.
I almost scream when he finally tightens his grip and begins to stroke me. He doesn’t go slowly. His hand moves rapidly up and down my length as he lowers his head to bite and suck the skin on my throat. There’s nothing I can do but hold on, head tossed back, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Come for me, little lamb,” Mason says, and I do, two or three firm strokes after the words pass his lips. Cum shoots over my chest and stomach as pleasure explodes through my body, making my legs shake and my back arch.
Mason kisses down my throat. No bites this time. Just soft presses of his lips over and over again.
I go slack beneath him, trying to catch my breath. Mason lets out a little hum and lowers himself down onto me, the entire length of his body against mine.
“I’ll kill Dane for you,” he says, and the words come out so matter-of-factly that I bark out a laugh.
“No, you won’t.”
Mason moves his hand—or something; all I feel is a faint rush of air—and the candle next to the bed comes alight. I stare between it and him.
“How did you—”
“I will,” Mason says. His face is flushed from what we’ve just done, and not just that. His eyes glitter with the truth of his words, the vehemence behind them. “I’ll kill him for thinking he can lay a hand on you.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Sometimes I might do things you don’t want. Especially if I think that’s best for you.”
I bristle at that, but only a little. Mason kisses me hard, stealing away any words, and for a moment, I wonder if it really might be so bad if he killed Dane after all.
No. Nope. I’ll do it if it’s necessary, but I don’t know that it is.
“How did you just light that candle?” I ask instead when Mason lets me catch my breath.
The grin he gives me now is mischievous. “Magic.”
“Mason…”
“I mean it. I healed your face, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but—”
“And Otto’s shoulder. Emma and Sal did the same.”
“You expect me to believe in magic.”
“I expect you to believe in me .” He tilts his head to one side. “Besides, you said it yourself. There should have been a wound.”
“They healed it all away? The virus…”
“All of it,” Mason says with a nod.
“And everyone in this town can do that, can they?”
“Yes. You’ve seen their marks.”
The blue swirls on their skin. That means they have magic? My eyes sweep the length of him. “You don’t have one.”
“It never appeared for me,” Mason says with a careless shrug.
“But you have magic?”
Mason nods. He lowers his head to kiss my shoulder, and I idly run my fingers up and down his spine. “Pushing the zombies out took a ritual, a lot of power. It’s easy to keep them out, but since you hunters arrived…”
“They’ve come back?”
“It would appear so.”
“I don’t know why the Citadel sent us here,” I say, finally voicing the words that have been going around in my head since I got off the train. “It’s too far north. There are so many towns we could clear between here and there. And we get here and you—”
Mason holds my gaze when my eyes meet his. “We?”
“You’ve been holding this place steady for years on your own. Why send us here? Why now?”
“I suppose you might have to ask your team leader about that.”
I scoff, and Mason laughs and kisses me again. We need to leave his bed. I should see Otto. I need to get ready for the day.
But the bed is warm, and Mason’s hands are steady, and I might stay here for a while yet.