Chapter Eighteen #2
“You’ll be safe down here,” Mason says. “Nia wants us out searching again at first light.”
Autumn nods quickly. “O-okay.”
Mason doesn’t wait for any other reply; he just drags me on without looking back. Once we’re inside his room, he pushes me over towards the bed. I sit down heavily, then let out a startled yelp when Mason climbs into my lap.
“You should stay here,” he says, then kisses me before I can answer. “You could stay right here with me. I’d keep you safe, Isaac.”
“I—Fuck.” I kiss him back. Of course I do. I can’t focus on anything else but his mouth on mine, and that’s what I really want right now. “Mason, we need to—We should—”
“Talk?” Mason scrapes his teeth down my jaw. “Is that what you want to do?”
“We should.”
He leans back. I’m gratified to see he’s breathing as hard as I am.
“I don’t want to see you hurt,” Mason says, avoiding my eyes. “I won’t let anyone take you.”
“It’s not about that. You know I have to go back.”
“To the Citadel?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I frown at him. “That’s where I live. That’s where my life is, that—”
“You’re sure about that?” Mason smooths his hands over my shoulders, then down my arms. My lips twitch when he links our hands together. “Your life could be here, too.”
For a moment, I indulge. Let myself imagine a life here. It’s not as if the Citadel provides more luxury. I have acquaintances but no friends. A purpose, sure, but I could have that here, too.
But the others… They’d have to explain why I didn’t come back. And if the Citadel has sent one team out here, they’d send another.
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper. “I can’t make them lie for me.”
Something dark flickers through Mason’s eyes. I swallow hard. He doesn’t want me to leave. Part of me doesn’t want to, either. It’ll be dangerous, going back, but here? What could I do here?
“We’ll talk about that later,” Mason says. He kisses me again, hard and claiming, and I only realise he’s going for my clothes once he pushes my jacket off my shoulders.
I attack his clothes in return, shoving his shirt up until our mouths have to part so I can get it off. Mason gasps when I run my hands over his pale chest, fingers lingering on the scars I can hardly see.
“What happened?” I murmur.
“Does it matter?”
I frown up at him. “Yes.”
Mason’s expression softens. He arches into the hand I smooth over his ribs and lets out a quiet groan.
“A knife,” he says when I touch the clean scar, the one that looks deliberate.
“Is that to do with the ritual you talked about? When it comes to magic?”
Mason lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re quick,” he says, voice warm. “Yes. A hard spell. A long time ago.”
“And this?” I touch the one on his arm that seems more like a tear. Mason’s thighs tighten on either side of mine.
“A bite.”
“An animal?”
“Sure.”
Mason kisses me again. The air around us warms as he gets my T-shirt off, then starts rocking his hips against mine. I break the kiss and ignore the plaintive sound he makes in response. It turns into a hum when I kiss his throat, then a moan when I dig my teeth in.
“Yes, Isaac,” he whispers. He grabs at my shoulders. “Yes, yes.”
I bite down harder, sure that I’m leaving a bruise behind. Mason loves it. He whines when I suck that spot, hips thrusting forward frantically.
“Fuck, little lamb, I—” Mason pulls my hair hard enough that I gasp and lift my head. His eyes are so dark when they meet mine. “I’m keeping you. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Mason…”
He growls and pushes his hips forward again. I can’t fight the way my body responds to his, and I don’t want to. Why would I? I’ve never met anyone who wants me like this. Not just in bed, but out of it. He can fight. He can hold his own.
“I’ll keep you locked away down here if I have to,” Mason murmurs in my ear. He bites my earlobe, and I groan. “You’ll never have to worry about zombies, or that fucking Citadel, or all those people who’d betray you at the drop of a hat. All you have to think about is me.”
I grab his arse and roll us so he’s on his back beneath me. Mason stares up at me, eyes wide. He’s not expecting it.
“And what will you do?” I ask. He reaches for me, but I lean back and my hands fall to the waistband of my trousers. Mason freezes in place.
“What will I…?”
“While you’ve got me locked away down here, no one else can touch me. No one else can look at me. And what will you be doing in this scenario?”
“Touching you.” He reaches again, but I grab his hand and shake my head. Mason lets out a breathless laugh. “ Worshipping you.”
“Every night?”
“Every hour of every day—” I push my trousers down a little way, and Mason groans. “Isaac, please.”
“Please what?”
“Let me fuck you. Let me worship you.” He bites his lower lip, then lets it go. “Let me love you.”
Fuck. The words make my heart stutter. Isn’t that all I want? All I’ve ever wanted? After everything that happened with my parents, after being left alone for years and years, watching my own back and killing zombies and losing a friend—
Would this be the worst choice I’ve ever made?
“Do you have—”
Mason nods frantically.
“Okay. Get undressed.”
I stand because I need a moment, just a second, and Mason reads it from my face. He climbs off the bed as I kick off my boots and snatches something from the pocket of his jacket.
Once I’m naked, I climb back onto the bed. Mason stands there for a moment, wearing just his trousers, and takes me in with a slow, lingering perusal.
“You’re beautiful, little lamb.”
“Mason—”
“I mean it. I won’t lie. Not to you.”
“You’re sure about that?”
He frowns and climbs onto the bed, leaning over me. The condom drops onto the pillow next to my head.
“I swear it. Anything you want to know is yours. I’m yours.”
I kiss him. It’s easier to fall into the feel of skin on skin, to help push his trousers down and away, and then to hook one leg around his hips and drag him closer.
Mason’s fingers dig into my skin, count down my ribs.
I bite his lower lip when he grabs hold of my hips and he grunts, cock bumping against mine.
He grabs the lube. I fold one arm behind my head and watch as he slicks up three fingers, chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. No need for words. Mason’s eyes meet mine and he reads what I want from my expression, from the way I spread my legs and tilt my hips.
Am I going to stay? I can’t answer that right now—any answer I give is liable to change. But I want this, here and now. I want to feel alive. I want him .
The first finger fills me slowly and tears a groan from my throat. Mason strokes his thumb over my hipbone. His eyes never leave mine as he stretches me open, first one finger, then two, then three, each added slowly and carefully, never letting me feel any pain at all.
I want it, though. Not there. Not much. I want the bruises he left before, want marks so that when—if—I go back to the Citadel, I carry part of him with me.
Mason slides his fingers free and opens the condom, then rolls it down his length. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. I’m nervous. I don’t know why. I might not have done it quite like this, so slowly, so tenderly, but I’ve been fucked before.
Is this that? Mason strokes my hipbone again as he lines up his cock. I lick my lips and nod.
“Please.”
He smiles like that’s all he needed to hear, and I toss my head back on a groan as he begins to push inside. I need him. Every beat of my heart is his, every breath that saws in and out of my lungs, and when he finally fills me, hips pressed against mine, there’s no one in my world but him .
“My perfect little lamb,” Mason murmurs. He brushes our lips together, holding himself still and deep. The only light in here is the flickering candle, and it makes shadows play over his face, the sharp lines of his body.
“Mason, please…”
“Anything you want,” he murmurs.
He fucks me slowly, leaning down so we’re sharing each breath. I throw my arms around his neck, then wrap my thighs around his hips. Every time I push back against him, Mason grunts and fucks me a little harder.
That’s what I want. I lean up to bite his shoulder, squeezing around him. Mason groans and his next thrust is harder, but just as deep.
“More.”
“As my lamb demands.”
Mason pushes up, planting one hand above my head. He pulls back, and his next thrust in is hard enough that I cry out, back arching. His expression changes, that possessiveness from earlier turning darker, but it only makes my cock jerk, hands still reaching for him.
He’ll never hurt me any way I don’t want. I’m sure of that. And I want this. I want the burn, the ache of it.
He wants that too. I can see it. I’ve no doubt he’ll take his time—he’ll make me let him take his time—and worship me, let me do the same to him, but here, now—
“I have you,” Mason murmurs. He kisses my mouth, then my cheek, and bites at my jaw. “I’ll give you what you need.”
I whine, kissing everywhere I can reach as he fucks me harder, faster.
I almost scream when he takes hold of my cock, his first few touches teasing in how gentle they are.
My senses are full of us. The sound of Mason’s grunts, his hips slapping against mine, and the creak of the bed fill this small room.
“Mason, I’m going to—Oh fuck , let me—”
His grip on my cock tightens and he huffs a laugh against my temple before his lips press there.
“You want to come?”
“Yes.”
It’s not a matter of wanting. I’m so close, so full, so safe in a way I’ve never been. God, I don’t want to leave. I want to forget about everything outside this room. In here, there are no zombies, no dead or missing teammates, no—
Mason bites my throat and swipes his thumb over the head of my cock, squeezing hard. I cry out. “Don’t drift away, little lamb. You’re all mine.”
His. I am his . I nod and make my hands move, stroking up his arms and over his chest. Mason rewards me with a softer bite when I pinch his nipples, his hips never slowing.
“This is mine, too,” he says, giving my cock another squeeze. “All of me. Even if you leave, Isaac. You’ll never forget it.”
I won’t. He’s seared on me, and I can’t even pretend to dislike that. “Never,” I agree, the word pushed out on a breath. “I won’t forget.”
Mason kisses me hard, and I come with his hand on my cock, his teeth sinking into my lower lip. My limbs tremble from the force of it, cum spilling over Mason’s hand, and he chuckles when I shout his name.
“Such a good lamb,” he murmurs. He bares his teeth, losing himself to it now, and I lie there and pant and watch him. Fuck, he looks incredible. There’s something animal about him like this, and I like that I’m the only one seeing it, that I might be the only one to ever see it—
Mason groans when he comes, burying himself deep inside me. I know it would be unsafe, but part of me wishes there were no barrier between us. I want to feel him inside me, want to feel it spill out of me when he’s done.
He lets out another laugh and presses his sweaty forehead to mine. I wrap my arms loosely around his back and close my eyes.
“You’ll never be rid of me, little lamb.”
“No,” I agree. I don’t want to be.