Chapter 25
Dakota
Mason’s apartment complex was a lot nicer than I’d expected it would be, especially since he’d described his job as being ‘random shit he did to make ends meet’ the first time I saw him, when we were sharing a plate of blueberry waffles and I was blissfully unaware of the damage he was about to inflict on me.
As we pulled up to the building, I couldn’t help but stare a little.
It wasn’t insane, but it was a far cry from my own home.
He parked the car, then came around to the passenger side to open my door. Helping me out of the car, he grabbed my bag off the floor, carrying it for me as we went inside, then up the elevator.
My heart was pounding harder and harder with each floor we ascended.
Mason led me to a nondescript door, using a fob on his key to unlock it. He guided me inside in front of him, shutting and locking the door then flicking a light on.
His apartment was very dark. Yes, because it was the middle of the night, but also because everything was black. Like, everything. The walls, the floor, the furniture.
“Unique taste,” I commented, trying not to inhale too noticeably.
His scent was very strong in here, like the ocean at night.
Beside the color, almost none of the furniture looked used at all; there was no remote on the coffee table, no crumpled blanket on the couch, no barstool askew, no half-used roll of paper towels on the counter by the sink.
“I didn’t pick any of this out.”
“Okay…” I looked around, searching for something indicating a person actually lived here. There were some weights by the wall in the living room. “Who picked it out?”
“The person who got me the apartment.”
“Like an agent?” I didn’t actually know how apartment buying worked at all. I’d never bought one.
“Yeah. Sure. They just bought everything for me.”
He didn’t seem very concerned about the lack of decor or personality while he lead me through the living room and past the kitchen, heading into a short hallway with a door at the end—his bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment, everything was black, including the floor-to-ceiling tiling on the walls of the adjoining bathroom.
His bed was wide and low, with just two plain dark pillows, and the comforter did look rumpled, so at least I knew he slept here, if nothing else.
Past the bed was a large window, showcasing a sprawl of buildings with yellow-lit rectangular windows.
“It smells so good in here,” I commented as casually as possible, unable to keep it to myself much longer. I mean, shit, the smell of him made me so horny it almost felt like I’d die if I didn’t touch him. I’d never felt like that before. It must’ve been some crazy pheromone—or something.
“What?” His face conveyed something that almost looked like alarm. “What does it smell like?”
“I don’t know. Like you. Like the ocean, in a way.”
“You can—” He pressed his lips together, cutting off his own response. Then he nodded. “Thanks. Might be my body wash.”
“Maybe,” I said, completely doubting it. That smell wasn’t created in a lab and infused into soap; it was part of him.
Mason tossed my bag on his bed, then pulled me into his arms, pressing a hard kiss on my lips, putting our conversation about the way he smelled in the past.
“I’ve wanted to get you here for a while,” he said with his mouth skimming along my jaw, his cock already getting hard on my stomach. “At my place. I might never let you leave.”
A sick thrill sparked through my nerves at those words.
“You have to let me leave.”
“No I don’t.”
“I have class tomorrow,” I yelped as his teeth clamped down on my neck, my body trying to twist away from him.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled, holding me tighter.
“Well, I do. I’ve already missed—”
“I told you I don’t care, Dakota,” he cut me off, stealing my breath with another rough kiss, like he wanted to stake his claim on me. Like he wanted to ruin me for anyone else. I might want that too. “Stop talking about it.”
Mason dragged me over to a bench at the end of his bed, sitting down and settling me me on his lap, my thighs straddling his hips.
He smelled so fucking good. It was better like this, in his apartment, when I was surrounded by him on all sides, when I couldn’t take a breath without feeling a tug in my belly.
I rolled my hips, kissing him deeper, my tongue flicking against his.
Warmth spread across my chest and back, and I unzipped my sweatshirt, shrugging it off so I was just in a t-shirt and boxers on his lap.
Mason’s hands gripped my waist, slid down the flare of my hips, the curve of my ass, fingers digging into my skin through the cotton.
His hold encouraged me to tilt my hips, to grind on his hardening dick.
I wanted him inside me. Not gently, but mercilessly, endlessly, like the ocean flooding a drowning thing. I wanted the hurt. Wanted it to last.
I moved my hips forward and backward, shuddering at the friction on my clit.
“Why did you let me leave the beach by myself?” I asked, masking the vulnerability in my voice with a breathy moan when Mason slapped my ass.
“I thought you needed space.”
I was shaking my head, wrapping my arms around his neck, swiveling my hips on his erection. His hands slipped under my shirt, up my spine. Desperation clawed at me, every breath working me into a frenzy. I was panting, losing myself to him.
Something like relief settled in me with his response. He hadn’t let me leave because I was too much. It was because he thought he was.
“I wanted you to come and take me,” I breathed, half-hoping it’d be too quiet for him to hear. The dark pit of obsession in my chest was growing, sucking me down, and I…I needed it.
If this was going to hurt me in the end, I needed to feel every second of it.
I wasn’t strong enough to resist the magnetism between us.
Mason pushed the elastic waistband of my boxers over my ass, palms skimming my bare skin, and then he pushed me off him.
I didn’t even get a chance to protest before he was yanking my boxers the rest of the way off, followed by my shirt so I was standing naked before him. He grabbed my throat, staring at me so closely and so intensely my knees felt weak.
“Yeah?” he said, voice husky. “You want me to force you? Fuck you up? Hurt you a little bit?”
I think so. But I was scared to say that, because I didn’t know how far he was going to take this. I didn’t get any boundaries with him.
“Remember when I told you it’d feel good?” he prodded. “Me hurting you?”
I managed a shaky nod.
“Think of how good it’ll feel once you let me into that pretty little head.”
My stomach dipped and I clutched his forearms to keep myself standing, a deep ache building dangerously in my core. The sort of ache that hurt so badly it felt good.
I can’t.
Mason’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine, seeking out all my answers to all his questions. I hoped he couldn’t find them. I feared that once he did, he’d wreck me. He would have access to so many hidden pieces of me, all the most fragile ones, and that was terrifying.
What if he hates them? What if he rips me open and decides I’m too much after all?
Somehow, I didn’t think that would happen.
He’s like me. I’m like him.
“I want to get you high, Dakota. You know I can. But you have to let me. I can’t force this out of you.”
“You don’t let me know you, either,” I gasped, waves of fearful desire dripping over all my skin.
His gaze darkened, his hands sliding down to my shoulders, fingers circling my upper arms. His fingertips pressed into my flesh, hard enough to hurt. “You’re making me want to do some violent shit, baby.”
“Well, I didn’t think you were going to fuck me gently, so—”
My words got cut off by Mason turning me and shoving me backwards onto his bed.
His bed was shockingly soft, my fall cushioned by his washed black comforter and cloud-like mattress.
I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as Mason stepped out of his pants.
He started towards the bed in just his boxers but I held my hand up to stop him, squeezing my thighs tight together, crossing my ankles to hide my pussy.
Surprisingly, he halted.
“Take those off too,” I said shyly, pointing to his underwear, my stomach flipping. He’d seen me fully naked more than once…but I’d never seen him like that, only in various stages of undress while he shoved his cock in my throat or jacked off onto my stomach.
Mason clearly wasn’t feeling shy, as he easily stripped off his boxers without a second thought, then continued his approach.
It made sense. He didn’t have a single flaw on him.
The lack of flaws was one of the first things I’d noticed about him, and I noticed it again now, eyes roaming his taut skin and sculpted muscles, his perfect cock. I felt both intimidated by his perfection and lucky I was the girl in his bed. Maybe I shouldn’t have felt lucky, but I did.
Standing at the side of the bed, he wrapped a hand around his cock, lightly stroking, watching me. I knew he was about to push another line, I just didn’t know which one. I was never safe with him. Not my body, not my mind.
He took me apart so easily, breaking me like it was his favorite thing to do. Sometimes it felt like my favorite thing, too.
“When I held you under the water…” Mason started. My pulse skipped several beats; I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going. “Did you fight back because you wanted me to stop, or because you wanted me to keep going?”
My chest started rising and falling quicker, my tongue darting out to lick my lips.
Don’t ask me that.
“I—”
He grabbed my knees and pried my thighs apart, uncrossing my ankles to spread my legs wide, putting my naked body on full display for him.
Slick arousal dripped out of me, my nipples tightening, needing attention.
Mason noted every reaction my body was having to him, cataloging every unbidden show of arousal with his perceptive gaze, eyes dragging over all the most intimate parts of me.