Chapter 70
LILY
Mason’s hands take my hips, moving me all the way up his body. I realize what he's doing a second before he pulls me forward to straddle his face.
“My turn.” His voice is raspy and rough, just like the feel of his jaw against my inner thighs. His hands tighten on my hips as he draws me down to his mouth. “I want to taste you. I want to feel you come on my tongue.”
The first touch of his tongue makes me gasp, jerking up.
He holds me fast, keeping me right where he wants me. “More. I want all of you.”
I sink down fully, and his mouth is everywhere—licking, sucking, devouring me like he's starving. The position makes me feel exposed and vulnerable, but fuck it’s hot. I surrender to it, arching my back, crying out when his fingers pluck at the tips of my breasts.
His tongue circles my clit, then flicks it rapidly. His hand leaves my hip to slide two fingers inside me, and I cry out at how incredible it feels.
“That's it.” He sucks me into his mouth and then lets go. “Ride my face. Take what you need.”
I do. I rock my hips, grinding against his mouth, chasing the pleasure building inside me. His fingers pump in and out, his tongue and lips working my clit with devastating precision, and I'm climbing so fast I can barely breathe.
“Come for me, Lily,” he says, his voice muffled. “Let me feel it.”
I shatter. The orgasm tears through me, intense and blinding, stealing my breath. My thighs shake, my hands grip the headboard for balance, and he doesn't stop—he keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out every wave until I'm boneless and trembling.
When I finally collapse beside him, he pulls me into his arms, holding me close. We're both breathing hard, both wrung out, both completely satisfied.
“Good morning,” he murmurs against my hair.
I laugh breathlessly. “Good morning.”
Morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden. Outside, the ranch is waking up—I can hear the distant sounds of horses and the low rumble of a truck engine. But here, in this bed, wrapped in Mason's arms, the world feels far away.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “You don’t ever have to thank me for touching you like you matter.”
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. “I don't want to spend the rest of my life just surviving.”
“Good.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there. “Because I want you living, pretty girl. Boldly. Safely. With me.”
With me.
The words crack something open in my chest. Without thought, I whisper, “Always.”
Mason goes completely still. Then his arm tightens around me, firm and possessive. “Always,” he says, like he’s making a vow.