19. Mason
NINETEEN
MASON
She’s so fucking sexy.
If lust weren’t swimming through my veins and twisting up my logic, maybe I would stop whatever is happening and think about what she’s asking. But it’s no surprise I don’t because, truthfully, I haven’t been thinking straight since the moment I saw her—long before she ever knew of me.
The taste of her mouth makes me woozy, and my tongue presses deeper, trying to dive inside her body and let the feel of her ground me. I start a slow grind, my hips pressing into the space between her legs, the tension in my abdomen coiling tighter with each thrust against the thin material of her sweatpants.
My hand wraps around her throat, her pulse jumping erratically beneath my thumb.
The harder I squeeze, the more responsive she becomes.
“I want you to take it.”
My palm moves back, slipping into the strands of her hair, pulling sharply until her lips separate from mine mid-kiss. Tugging her head to the side, my teeth graze against her neck, my free hand moving down the column of her throat until it reaches the top of her chest.
She squirms underneath me, and my grip on her hair tightens, causing a whimper to escape her lips. My eyes flash to hers, a sudden tightening in my chest urging me to make sure she’s still with me—that when she asked for rough, she meant it.
I’m testing the waters, not sure she understands just how rough I can get.
Her eyes are heavy, and her cheeks flushed.
So fucking beautiful .
My fingers continue to slip down the small frame of her body, grasping the hem of her oversized band tee and pushing it up. My already hard cock stiffens further as she moans, grinding herself on me.
When my gaze falls to her chest, my lungs squeeze tight. Her breasts are bare, nipples pebbled, begging me to make them swollen and tender from abuse. I lean down, sucking the peak into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the bud before my teeth clamp down slightly, tugging enough to cause a gasp. My stomach tenses and I swallow a groan.
“Oh God,” she moans.
“What did I tell you about saying that?” I respond, my fingers coming up to her other nipple and pinching.
She gasps, her back bowing, hands shooting up to dig into my shoulders.
Leaving her chest, I work my way down, my hand following the path of my mouth until I reach the top of her sweats. Pulling them off her legs, I toss them to the side. My heart skips so hard at the sight of her bare pussy, it feels like it might break, but I swear to God if I die, this is how I want to go out. Right here, staring at Lily in all her beauty—her taste on my tongue and her body a vision, skin flushed and glistening, begging me to do all the things I’ve dreamed of.
She fidgets and my arm jumps up to her midsection, pressing down firmly to pin her in place.
I may not be an expert in emotional connection, but one thing I do know is how to fuck. How to draw out the hidden deviant living inside, so you can enjoy the pleasure of submerging in your darkest desires.
And Lily Adams likes dark things.
My free hand moves down, pushing against her thigh. She resists, her legs tensing, and my eyes glance at her face. I smirk, my dick jumping at her refusal. I put more pressure, prying her legs apart, smacking the inside of her thigh once they’re forced open, her pussy glistening and on display. Lily moans in obvious pleasure.
The sight of the red print left behind makes precum leak from the tip of my cock, wetting my boxers. “Don’t pretend you don’t want my tongue on your pussy.”
Her fingers reach up and grasp my hair so tight there’s a sting at the root. “No one has ever?—”
My heart stutters, mouth watering, a thrill surging through me like a tidal wave.
I move closer, my arm still pinning her down by her stomach, blowing my breath on top of her already swollen clit. “Shame for them, then. A fucking pleasure for me.”
And then I lap at her pussy, groaning at the musky taste of her arousal. My tongue circles her swollen nub, reveling in the immediate shake of her legs as they lift to clamp down over my shoulders.
“Oh, fuck .” Her voice is loud. My hand reaches up until I feel the stretch in my side, smothering her mouth, pressing down harshly so she doesn’t wake the kid and ruin what we’ve got going. Having her so malleable under my hands sends a rush of excitement through me—a tingle of power—and my cock thickens further, straining against my jeans, desperate to be let free.
With one palm still pressed against her mouth, the other hand moves down until I reach the outside of her hole, playing in the wetness.
Fuck, she’s sexy.
Two of my fingers plunge inside without warning, and she jerks, forcing them in deeper. I curl them upward, finding the spongy insides of her walls, my mouth alternating between quick flicks and long, languid motions, paying close attention to how her body responds so I can pinpoint how she likes it. When I circle her clit again and then suck it into my mouth, her body spasms and she moans, the sound vibrating against my palm, sending a shot of arousal straight to my dick.
There it is.
My fingers are drenched, her arousal literally seeping onto my hand and down my wrist. I can tell she’s close.
So I stop and lean back.
She groans, her head slapping against the couch cushion.
“Do you deserve to come, little bird?”
She says something, but it’s muffled under my hand. I lean in toward her. “What was that? I can’t hear.”
Her eyes flare.
“Do I need to make you beg for it?”
My free hand, still by her thighs, rears back, and I bring it forward, smacking the top of her pussy. My eyes never leave her face, waiting for her to either say it’s too much or to show a sign that she doesn’t like it.
She whimpers, her hips thrusting against my palm.
My chest expands, my cock harder than it’s ever been, and my hand comes down again.
Another moan, her eyes rolling back in her head.
I start up a slow and steady rhythm, her pussy lips swelling, blooming a beautiful shade of pink from the harsh sting of my hand. I alternate slaps with my palm rubbing tenderly against her mound.
Jesus Christ, she’s so responsive .
She’s close as fuck, I can feel it.
Leaning forward, my chest presses against hers. Her neck glistens with a light sheen of sweat, and I can’t help but lick along the expanse of her throat before letting my lips skim across her ear.
“Do you like my hands on you?” I ask, my fingers rolling in a slow, circular motion on her clit.
She shakes her head no.
My stomach jolts with excitement.
“You filthy little liar.” Smack. “You can act like you don’t want me to touch you, but this—” My fingers dip down to her entrance, dipping them inside until they’re slathered from how wet she is, before bringing them to her mouth. She tries to turn her head, but I grasp her jaw, locking her in place.. “This tells me different.”
My fingers push so tight against her face I can feel the imprint of her teeth through her skin, and my tongue licks up the wetness coated across the seam of her lips. I pry her mouth open with mine, swirling that taste of her between us, my balls tightening from the way her groan reverberates through my body. My hand dips down to her pussy, starting the slow torture of friction, and when her legs tremble around my hips, I lean back, raising my palm and bringing it down sharply in three quick slaps.
And that’s all it takes. Her body bends like a pretzel as she shakes, her mouth gaping open. I dive down, my lips tangling with hers and sucking in her scream, keeping her as quiet as possible while she rides the explosion.
Slowly, she comes back down to earth, her body trembling in my arms and mine aching with the need for relief. But this isn’t about me tonight. If she wants me to take it, I need to make sure she trusts me.
Still, I can’t help the tendril of satisfaction worming its way inside at the way she’s finally letting me in. The thought makes guilt slither around my spine, tightening like a constrictor.
She doesn’t even know who you are.
I ease the feeling by telling myself she does . She may not know who I truly am or what I’m really here for, but in this moment, she knows me better than anyone else. Like she could draw up the innermost parts of me with a single look. And not the surface-level bullshit, like your hobbies or your favorite colors. Not even the past experiences or present struggles. I’m talking about that soul-deep shit. Where your energy connects with theirs and you twine together, riding the same vibration. Tuned into the same frequency.
That’s rare.
That’s something in the storybooks.
And that’s something I was convinced didn’t really exist. Only now, I’m finding it in her.
So even though I know I should pull back and get my head on straight… Either go through with what I’m hired for or tell her the truth of why I’m here in the first place…I don’t.
I can’t.
And I’m not sure I ever will.