Chapter Nine #2
Except I’m afraid to say the words out loud. As soon as I do, it’ll make it real, and everything will come crashing around us.
I already know what Mason will say, and I don’t know if I can stand to hear him say it.
With a shake of my head, I silence whatever he was going to say with a kiss.
He remains rooted to the spot as I move my fingers from his hair down his back and knead his behind.
Then I nip on his lower lip and rub myself against him.
I’m nervous, wondering if Mason will push me away and see right through me.
He yanks me closer and growls into the kiss.
His mouth is hot and unforgiving, and it’s everything I want and need.
He shifts, and we stumble back until my back hits the wall.
Mason’s tongue enters my mouth, and I grip his shoulders to keep from falling.
One hand digs into my waist, and the other moves under my shirt, sending a ripple of goosebumps through me.
A moan falls from my lips when his hand cups me over my bra.
As soon as he unhooks the bra, and my breasts spill forward, my heart sputters.
Mason draws back to look at me, and I can’t look away.
I don’t want to.
I want to fall forever into his eyes and his arms.
His eyes darken as they flicker down. Slowly, he slides my jeans over my hips and kicks them away. His gaze stays on me as he pulls the shirt over my head and throws it over his shoulder. I moan impatiently when he moves his mouth back up to mine.
Then he hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
He rubs himself against me, and I almost explode right there.
Mason uses one hand to prop me up while the other rips my panties. As soon as he throws the tattered pieces aside, he kisses a path from my neck down the slope of my chest and stops. I feel his eyes on me as he closes his mouth around the nipple and tugs.
Molten desire pools in my core.
He digs his nails into my ass, then moves his mouth to my other nipple as I grip the back of his neck.
I rock against him, needing the friction, needing him.
He responds by gripping my hips tighter and carrying me to the bed. I reach for him as we fall backward, and the breath gets knocked out of me. My heart is still pounding as I sit up to draw him closer. When he presses his mouth to mine, it’s different. Frantic.
Like he’s as desperate as I am to ignore all the things pulling us apart.
I tell myself they don’t matter as he nudges my legs apart and settles between them.
I repeat the mantra to myself when he kisses a path from my neck, down the slope of my chest, and stops to look at me. Then I push away any lingering doubt I have and sit up. Mason’s eyes darken as I press my flushed body against his.
We are chest to chest, and there isn’t an inch of space between us, and I’m terrified.
I’m terrified of losing the way he makes me feel, of everything he’s freely offering, and the life we could have together.
Mason stretches his legs on either side of me and grips my hips.
I hold his gaze as I sink against him, and he eases into me.
I hold myself still as he fills me, stretching every nerve and boundary as if he’s pouring himself into my soul.
He pushes my hair over my shoulder and presses his lips to my neck.
We begin to move together as if we have all the time in the world.
His fingers move down to my hips and dig into the sensitive skin there.
Then one hand moves to my chest and flicks one nipple, then the other.
I throw my head back and grind against him, needing him to silence every niggling voice telling me we don’t belong together.
Every cell in my body yearns for him, screams his name.
I don’t care if I crash and burn as long as he’s with me.
When I bury my face in his neck, the smell of him—spicy cologne and the outdoors—washes over me. He’s breathing heavily, and it does something to me. Something in me cracks open when he cups the back of my neck and murmurs something into my skin.
Tears prick the back of my eyes, and I push them back.
Mason shifts and pushes me back onto the mattress.
My eyes fly open, and I look at him as he throws my legs over his shoulders.
Without breaking our gaze, he thrusts into me again and growls.
He watches me carefully, easing out and then slamming back into me again, eliciting another gasp.
I throw my arms out on either side of me, and he laces his fingers through mine, pinning me in place.
I’ve been laid bare, exposed, and vulnerable, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Not when he’s looking at me like that.
Not when he’s worshipping me with his body like our lives depend on it.
My heart swells when he releases my legs and links them over his back. Mason drops his head between us and kisses my forehead. I tune out everything else and focus on how it feels to be there with him, not knowing where he begins and I end.
Eventually, everything I’ve been holding back erupts, and I cry out.
I shake and writhe as my orgasm rips through me, leaving nothing in its wake.
When I blink, the spots in my field of vision clear, and Mason is still moving inside of me.
He waits for me to look at him and captures my lips in a tender kiss.
I sigh and grip his arms again, needing to feel anchored and steady.
Another orgasm takes me, and the bed creaks while I shudder.
Once I’m no longer shaky, I inch back, and Mason eases out of me. His brows are furrowed as I place a hand on his chest and smile. He watches me as I throw my legs on either side of him and sink onto him. Then I lace my fingers through his and begin to move up and down. He thrusts upward.
I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut.
His movements turn frenzied as his release tears through him.
I collapse against him, breathing heavily as he holds still.
When he begins to stir, I climb off him and fall back against the mattress.
I stare at the ceiling when Mason shifts and lies down next to me.
I feel his eyes on me as I lie there, trying to untangle the mess I’ve created.
I know I should tell him about Olivia’s plan. I know I should tell him about the baby.
But I can’t bring myself to pierce whatever remains of our bubble. I’m not ready to face the consequences of either.
“London.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” I reply.
Mason huffs. “You know that you can trust me, right?”
I prop myself up on my elbow. “I know.”
“You can tell me anything.”
I search his face, and my chest tightens. “Even if it’s something I know you won’t like?”
Mason’s expression turns serious, and he nods. “You probably won’t like my reaction, but yes, even then.”
He looks into my eyes, and I falter.
Everything is on the tip of my tongue, but I still can’t say it.
Instead, I close the distance between us and kiss him again.
I can taste the disappointment and frustration when he frames my face in his hands.
Slowly, he drapes an arm over me and tucks me into his side.
Sometime later, when Mason is sound asleep, I tiptoe to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face.
Then I creep back into the room, prop myself up against the pillow, and stare at his sleeping face.
I know you won’t understand my reasons, but I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear. I hope someday you’ll understand.
Because I don’t think I can bear the thought of living in a world where Mason hates me.