Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Harper
I jolt awake, disoriented by the gentle hum of engines and the soft leather beneath my cheek. For a moment, I can't remember where I am. Then it all comes rushing back—the private jet, Mason's unexpected offer, the whirlwind departure from everything I've ever known.
My face burns as I realize I must have dozed off on Mason's shoulder. God, how embarrassing. I straighten up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, only to find his seat empty. The cabin around me is dimly lit, most of the windows shuttered against the night sky outside. How long was I out?
The plane seems steady enough, so I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand, stretching my stiff muscles. Where did he go? I make my way down the aisle, past the plush seats and gleaming fixtures that scream wealth beyond my wildest dreams.
At the back of the cabin, I notice a door left slightly ajar. Soft light spills from the crack, and I hear the faint murmur of a voice. Mason's voice, low and intense. Is he on the phone?
I hesitate, knowing I shouldn't eavesdrop. But curiosity gets the better of me, and I inch closer, peering through the narrow opening.
What I see makes my breath catch in my throat.
The bedroom beyond is bathed in golden light from a single lamp. And there, silhouetted against the glow, is Mason. His back is to me, jacket discarded, crisp white shirt stretched across broad shoulders. One hand grips the edge of a polished dresser, knuckles white with tension.
The other is wrapped around his cock.
I stare, transfixed, unable to look away from the raw, primal sight before me. Mason's powerful body is taut with tension, muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin as his hand works up and down his impressive length. The sheer size of him makes my breath catch in my throat. I've never seen a man like this before, never witnessed such an intimate act.
My heart pounds so loudly I'm sure he must hear it, but Mason seems lost in his own world of pleasure. His eyes are closed, head tilted back slightly, lips parted as ragged breaths escape him. A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, and I have the insane urge to trace its path with my tongue.
"Harper," he groans, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
And then he's coming, thick ropes of cum shooting from his cock. The intensity of his release is mesmerizing. I stand there, frozen, as Mason opens his eyes and meets my gaze in the mirror. For a moment, time seems to stop. But instead of looking embarrassed or angry at being caught, his eyes darken with unmistakable desire. He holds my gaze, continuing to stroke himself as the last pulses of his orgasm subside.
I know I should look away. I should turn and flee back to my seat, pretend this never happened. But I remain rooted to the spot, pulse racing, a dull ache building between my thighs. What's happening to me? Why can't I move?
I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't tear my eyes away from the sight of Mason's massive cock pulsing in his hand, ribbons of cum still spurting onto the floor.
"Harper." His voice is a low growl that makes heat pool in my belly.
I should run. Should be mortified at catching him like this. But my feet remain rooted to the spot as Mason turns, his impressive length still half-hard and glistening.
He takes a step toward me. "Come here."
My heart pounds. Every instinct screams to flee, to pretend this never happened. But as Mason's eyes rake over me, hungry and predatory, I find myself taking a shaky step forward.
What am I doing? This is crossing a line. If I let him touch me now, I know there's no going back.
Mason's hand reaches for me, and I hold my breath.
Mason's hand cups my cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. He draws me closer, and I go willingly, my body betraying my mind's hesitation. His lips brush mine, soft as a whisper. The tenderness of it makes me whimper, a sound that seems to ignite something primal in him.
His kiss deepens, becoming hungry and insistent. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, tasting of expensive whiskey and raw need. I melt against him, my hands clutching at his shirt for support as my knees go weak.
Through the haze of desire, I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my stomach. How is he already fully aroused again? The sheer size of him both thrills and terrifies me. My inexperience suddenly feels glaringly obvious.
Mason's hands roam my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He cups my breasts through my shirt, thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples. I gasp into his mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through me.
"Tell me to stop," he growls against my lips. "Tell me this isn't what you want."
But I can't form the words. Can't deny the ache building between my thighs or the way my body yearns for his touch. Instead, I press closer, feeling the heat of him even through our clothes.
Mason groans, the sound vibrating through me. His hands slide down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. The firm press of his cock makes me whimper again, a needy sound I barely recognize as my own.
"Christ, Harper," he breathes. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
I shake my head, dizzy with want. This is all so new, so overwhelming. Part of me wants to run, to hide from the intensity of it all. But a larger part never wants this moment to end.
Mason's lips trail along my jaw, down the column of my throat. When he reaches the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, he sucks hard, marking me. The mixture of pleasure and pain makes me cry out.
"Mason," I gasp. "I...I've never..."
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine. Understanding dawns in his gaze, followed by a flash of possessive hunger that makes me shiver.
"Never?" he asks, his voice rough.
I shake my head, suddenly feeling small and inexperienced in the face of his obvious expertise.
Mason cups my face in his hands, his touch achingly tender. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he says softly. "But know this, Harper—when you are ready, I intend to ruin you for any other man."
The intensity in his eyes steals my breath away. I know I should be scared, should run far away from the heat and hunger I see there. But all I can think about is how desperately I want him to make good on that promise.
"Let me show you how good I can make you feel," Mason whispers in my ear before he removes my shirt and starts to suckle my breasts.
A gasp escapes me as his hot mouth closes around my nipple. The sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through my body. Mason's tongue swirls expertly, teasing the sensitive bud until it's achingly hard. His large hands cup my breasts, kneading gently as he lavishes attention on first one nipple, then the other.
I arch into him, desperate for more of his touch. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as little mewls of pleasure fall from my lips. I've never felt anything like this before—it's overwhelming, intoxicating.
Mason's mouth trails lower, leaving a trail of fire across my abdomen. His hands grip my hips, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above the waistband of my jeans. He looks up at me, eyes dark with desire.
"May I?" he asks, fingers toying with the button.
I nod, unable to form words. Mason slowly undoes my jeans, sliding them down my legs along with my panties. I step out of them, suddenly feeling very exposed. But the way Mason looks at me—like I'm the most exquisite thing he's ever seen—chases away any insecurity.
His hands caress my thighs, parting them gently. I tremble in anticipation as he leans in, his hot breath fanning across my most intimate place. The first swipe of his tongue makes me cry out, my hips bucking involuntarily.
Mason's strong arms wrap around my thighs, holding me steady as he explores every fold and crevice with his talented mouth. His tongue circles my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure through me.
I've touched myself before, of course, but nothing could have prepared me for this. It's like every nerve ending in my body is on fire, all focused on the exquisite sensations Mason is creating between my legs.
"Oh god," I moan, my head falling back as the pressure builds. "Mason, I...I think I'm going to..."
He redoubles his efforts, sucking my clit between his lips as he slides a finger inside me. The dual stimulation is too much. With a keening cry, I shatter, waves of ecstasy washing over me. Mason doesn't let up, drawing out my orgasm until I'm a trembling, oversensitive mess.
When he finally pulls away, I slump against him, boneless and sated. Mason scoops me up in his strong arms, carrying me to the bed. He lays me down gently, then stands to remove the rest of his clothes.
Mason climbs into bed beside me, his movements slow and deliberate. The mattress dips under his weight, and I feel the heat radiating from his skin as he settles next to me. For a moment, he simply looks at me, his eyes roaming over my face as if committing every detail to memory. Then, with a gentleness that surprises me, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.
I melt into his embrace, my body fitting against his like two puzzle pieces finally slotting into place. His chest is firm against my back, rising and falling with each steady breath. One of his arms serves as a pillow for my head, while the other drapes over my waist, his large hand splayed across my stomach. The calluses on his fingers create a delicious friction against my skin, sending little shivers through me.
Mason's scent envelops me—a heady mix of sandalwood, leather, and something uniquely him. I breathe it in deeply, letting it calm my racing heart. For a long moment, we simply lie there, skin to skin, the only sound our mingled breaths.
"Are you alright?" Mason murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
I nod, not trusting my voice. The reality of what just happened is starting to sink in. I've never been this intimate with anyone before, never felt so exposed and vulnerable. Part of me wants to curl into a ball and hide. But a larger part revels in the warmth of Mason's body against mine, in the way his arms make me feel safe and protected.
"We don't have to go any further tonight," he says softly. "There's no rush."
His words surprise me. I turn in Mason's arms, needing to see his face. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there's a tenderness there too that makes my chest ache.
So I don’t speak. I can’t. I just burrow my head in his chest and let him hold me.