Chapter 7 #3
Head thrown back, blonde curls tumbling wildly down her back, Rebecca gave a sob of protest when he lifted her from him, but Mason was not going to be taken so quickly.
He’d been in torment for weeks. She wanted a sample of married life and he fully intended to keep his promise.
Laying her on her back, his lips began a journey of their own, down her neck and lower.
Across her collar bone he nipped lightly and then kissed it away before she could form a protest. He kissed the insides of her arms to her wrists, sending ripples of sensation through her.
The time he spent at her breasts was glorious agony for Rebecca and she alternately pleaded for him to stop and go on.
Across her satin stomach Mason trailed hot fire and when his warm moist lips moved lower Rebecca began to shake in mindless passion.
Waves of heat radiated out from her hot, damp core and everywhere he touched became a point of light.
Her head rolled back and forth and her breathing was shallow and rapid when Mason finally answered her pleas and took her, sheathing himself with a long hard thrust. Rebecca lost herself in his arms, no longer sure of where or even who she was.
The only thing that mattered was obtaining blessed release after weeks of longing.
Up and up he took her, each thrust of his powerful body making her gasp in wonder.
The nails of her slender hands scraped the muscled back beneath them and still he went on, taking her on a wild ride into paradise.
Never before had Rebecca felt anything like this overpowering possession.
She blindly followed where he led entrusting her very soul to his care.
There was no beginning, nor an end, just the present where his magnificent body brought such pleasure she thought she might die of it.
The brilliance of a million sunbeams burst suddenly through her and he held her tightly as she spun into the flames, but when she would have sagged back into the bed his strong arms refused to relinquish her and he carried her back into heaven again and again.
* * *
Moonlight streamed through the thin bedroom curtains, spilling over the occupants of the bed.
Rebecca studied Mason’s features, eyes traveling from his forehead, where a lock of jet black hair fell, to the strong, determined jaw.
Lashes, that would have made any woman envious, remained closed as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. Just who had put whom to sleep here she thought smiling to herself.
He seemed to be the one out cold. Her innate sense of honesty made her admit to herself, if not to him, that if she hadn't slept most of the day she'd be in the same boat he was.
Their lovemaking had left her totally sated and she had in fact fallen asleep again for a while, snuggled close in his strong arms.
Rebecca decided to enjoy this rare opportunity to simply lie with him, not arguing, not wanting.
It seemed that those two extreme emotions were the only sure ones they had lately.
When she wasn't fighting with him, she was a victim of her own passions, needing him with a fierce hunger that left her vulnerable, something that she'd sworn never to be.
Now, lying here beside Mason, she was forced to take a long look at herself.
She wanted him, admired him, and as much as she hated to admit it, she needed him.
It was that very emotion that scared the hell out of her.
Could she marry him, sleep with him, even have his children and still manage to maintain the distance she felt was necessary to her survival? Would she be able to protect herself?
She knew he was operating under a different game plan.
He too had been hurt. His parents had divorced and his father was not a man Mason was proud of.
The relationship he had with his brother, Nicholas, was a strong one, even though they saw each other infrequently.
The childhood he'd experienced was much harsher in some ways than hers, yet he managed to come out pretty much unscathed.
Yes, he saw things differently. You fall in love, marry, and raise your children, happily ever after, right?
Rebecca didn't believe it for a minute. Could she marry him anyway, enjoy the time they had together and still be ready if and when their happiness was brutally snatched away from them?
Sighing, Rebecca rolled over and laid her head on his chest. She was a realist, took each day as it came, never expecting happiness but treasuring it when it appeared. Were they too different to make it work?
This is the problem she thought as his hands began to roam her body once again, rolling her over and gently massaging the tension from her shoulders.
When he touches me all my good sense seems to dissolve into puddles which he goes merrily splashing through.
Sighing Rebecca turned over and reached for him.
When his warm lips closed over hers thought became a thing of the past, and sensation ruled the night.
* * *
The rich smell of coffee brewing tickled Mason’s senses until he opened his eyes.
Glancing at the bedside clock he groaned, sleepily rubbing his eyes.
Cupping his hands behind his head he took in the room’s disorder.
His clothes were strewn everywhere, tangled with wispy underthings.
One boot was in the bedside chair and the other against the wall where it had flown when he impatiently kicked them off.
Stretching, he wondered where Rebecca had gotten to and getting out of bed he walked to the bathroom, his tall muscular body disappearing just as she came through the bedroom door.
Rebecca, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, began picking up articles of clothing and straightening the room.
She could hear the shower running and laid his neatly folded clothes on the now made bed.
Brushing her hair, she quickly braided it and left the room, not wanting to be there if he came out in all his glory.
She needed to keep a clear head if they were going to sort this thing out.
By the time Mason appeared in the cheery kitchen there were scrambled eggs, bacon and toast waiting. The coffee was fresh and hot and while she busied herself around the kitchen he gratefully sipped the fragrant brew.
He was a man of mixed emotions. Entirely disgusted with himself and his inability to keep his hands off of her, yet deeply satisfied from a long night of intense lovemaking, Mason stared down into his cup trying to come to grips with his feelings.
So thoughtful was he that it took several seconds before he realized she'd been speaking to him.
“I accept,” she finished, obviously expecting some type of response.
Pulling himself back to the present he stared at her, watching as she twisted the dishcloth nervously between her hands.
“Accept what?” he asked, somewhat confused.
“Your proposal,” she told him, looking at him as if she'd like to smack him with the wet weapon in her hands.
Now that she had finally come to a decision she couldn't believe he was being so obtuse. Unless he’d changed his mind.
Now that she thought about it, he had mentioned 'second thoughts'.
Flinging down the wet cloth she stormed over to the table and picked up the plate of untouched food, wanting nothing more than to dump it over his head.
“Are you finished with this?” she almost shouted at a totally bemused Mason. Not waiting for a reply she returned to the sink and dumped the entire contents down the garbage disposal, flipping the switch with a maniacal glee.
“What the hell is the matter with you,” he shouted back at her, rising to his feet, unable to comprehend the entire situation.
“Nothing,” she snapped, grabbing the broom and sweeping so haphazardly that he backed up when she came near him. He didn't have his boots on yet and little as she was, she looked like she could do real damage with that broom.
Rebecca knew she was acting crazily but she couldn't seem to stop. She’d spent a good part of the early morning hours agonizing over this and he sat there like a stone!
Obviously marriage was the farthest thing from his mind.
She almost chased him across the floor, sweeping ever closer to his size thirteen feet as he danced out of her way.
She had finally decided to become his wife and he hadn't even been listening. Being ignored after what they’d shared last night inflamed her and throwing caution to the wind she swung the broom at his butt with enough force to make her loose her balance.
“That's it,” he growled snatching the broom effortlessly away from her and slinging her under his arm like he was carrying a bag of feed. Striding to the living room he totally ignored her curses and struggles and sitting on the couch, pulled her unceremoniously over his knees.
“I'm willing to put up with a lot from you Rebecca, but I will not tolerate being beaten with a broom. Do I make myself clear?” he questioned, peppering her bottom with quick hard smacks as she struggled to get out of his grasp.
Rebecca refused to give him the satisfaction of pleading for him to stop, even though her backside was beginning to throb.
I will not cry she told herself over and over, gritting her teeth as the spanking reached epic proportions.
As she fought to catch her breath he continued to tenderize her bottom, and she wondered how on earth she had managed to land herself in this position again and how she could have fallen in love with a man who thought it was absolutely okay to spank her?
Pausing for breath Mason struggled with his temper and continued with another round of blistering swats until he finally pulled her up and plopped her down beside him.