21. Callie
Chapter twenty-one
Mason’s hands move behind my knees, lifting them to his hips as his mouth takes over mine, tongue delving between my lips, and I groan.
He carries me through the house, pressing my back up against the nearest surface.
“I’ve imagined this moment since the first time I saw you,” he murmurs between kisses, and I arch up, my clit gaining friction against him.
I haven’t been with anyone in so long. Should I feel more self-conscious?
My body has changed since I last did this.
Inexplicably, I can’t find it in me to be nervous with Mason—not when he looks at me the way he does.
He’s spent the last few weeks making me feel safe.
Respected. Looked after. I have faith that this won’t be any different.
“Shit.” He presses his forehead to mine, huffing through his nose. “I don’t even know where to start. I just know I want you so bad.”
My heart is pounding. I don’t know if it’s nerves or excitement taking over, but I know my body wants this, even if my brain wants to protest. I want to do something for me.
I want to do something a little reckless.
“You can do whatever you want to me,” I say with a finger under his chin so I can bring his lips back to mine.
When I kiss him, he melts into me, pinning my hips to the wall with his own, one hand curling around my lower back as the other buries into my hair, tugging at the strands.
My legs tighten around his waist, anchoring me so I can grind my needy pussy on whatever part of him I can get.
“Fuck,” he breathes in one heavy exhale.
I feel that fuck all the way to my toes. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt this turned on. The ferocity of it is bubbling over my skin and pooling between my legs. A cataclysmic force that has me clawing for relief.
My head falls back with a moan as I roll and chase.
“Jesus, are you gonna make yourself come like this?”
“It’s been. A long. Time.” I keep moving, but it’s not enough. I’m painfully empty.
“What do I do?” he asks, dotting wet kisses over my neck, pausing to suck on the skin just below my collarbone. “What do you need?”
“Make it better, Mason,” I plead. “I’m aching.”
He carries me through the house until we’re in the kitchen, setting me on one of the trestle tables.
As soon as my arse hits the surface, his hands are framing my face again, thumbs caressing my cheeks as he kisses me, slow and deep.
I pull him closer, wishing I could feel his bare skin on mine.
My legs circle his waist, and when I move against him this time, I can feel him.
All of him. Hard and thick. Just the thought of his cock has my legs quaking, and my pussy contracting around nothing. It’s driving me mad.
Mason’s breath falters as he breaks our kiss and looks down between us.
“What’s wrong?” Is he going to pull away again, like in his office? Shit, what are we doing?
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just… It’s been a long time. I don’t have any protection, and I don’t want the first time I’m with you to be some quick fuck. You deserve more than that. I want it to be more than that.”
His words should be reassuring, but the weight of our next move has the power to change so much.
“Are we sure about this?” My hands twist in his T-shirt.
His eyes seem to dim, the fire in which he held me just moments ago simmering with uncertainty. “You’re not?”
“Maybe we’re caught in the moment?”
I can’t get a read on anything as I lock into his dual-toned eyes—one green, one blue, both hypnotising.
“I’ve been caught for weeks, you’re the one just catching up,” he says.
“Trust me, I’m fucking sure about this. I want you endlessly.
Repeatedly.” He closes his eyes as his forehead touches mine and his confession grows softer, more vulnerable.
“You’re already buried so fucking deep under my skin, and I haven’t even touched you. Haven’t tasted you.”
I reach for the button on my shorts, popping it open before dragging the zipper down in invitation.
Fuck it.
“So taste me.”
Pinning me with his heated gaze, he pulls at my shorts. I lift so he can move them under my arse, then he keeps going, taking them down my legs, never letting his gaze drop from mine.
When he’s on his knees before me, he tosses the shorts over his shoulder, and only then does he allow his eyes to move between my legs.
For a split second, the insecurity threatens to bleed in, snatching the moment of bliss away, but as Mason teases his fingertips up my thighs, and I watch his face shift from simple want to ruthless desperation, my body sinks into the reassurance he wordlessly provides.
His touch, his eyes, they tell a story of undeniable need.
The backs of his fingers brush over my covered centre, forcing a gasp as he moves over me, stroking down the inside of my other thigh until he’s at my knees and pushing me open.
I sigh, dropping my head as I lean back on my hands. My nipples are hard and tingling, aching for attention like I’ve never felt before. I’m powerless to stop the way I squirm on the table in anticipation.
Mason kisses the inside of my knee, dotting along the trembling skin as he moves closer and closer to my pussy. I’m on the verge of combustion when he kisses me over the lace of my panties, and the moan I release comes from the depths of my soul.
He does it again, and I feel light-headed.
When he eases a finger under the fabric and pushes it aside to lay a whisper of a kiss against my clit, I’m a panting mess.
I grip the edges of the table. “Oh, God.”
He works me up with his mouth until I’m at a fever pitch before unleashing his tongue on me. Up and down he strokes, humming as he indulges. My whole body is alive as he teases me with such beautiful torture, I just want to scream.
He suctions his lips over my clit, flicking his tongue against the hard bud, and I can’t hold back anymore. I bury my hands in his hair, bucking against his mouth. “Fuck, right there.”
I slowly lose my balance, slipping back further on the table as Mason keeps going.
“Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhh.”
His hunger grows savage, messy with need, but so do I as I close in on release.
I fuck myself against his face, his groans and grunts vibrating on my sensitive skin.
I squeeze my legs around his head as he wraps his arms around my back.
There’s a tiny part of me that worries I might be smothering him, but then everything in me tightens, my breath stalls, and I let out a cry as I come.
Mason’s groans are muffled between my thighs as my release floods out. The tension and desire that have been building since the first night we met seem to seep out with it, leaving me with only euphoria for company.
“Wow,” I sigh.
Mason’s grip on my back loosens, and he runs his hands gently up my spine, pressing soft kisses to my pulsing pussy. “This is what I should have been drinking every morning,” he says, his tongue and lips still working over me.
My core clenches with his words and attention.
“I’m not sure a girl can handle that mouth of yours on a regular basis.”
His kisses move up my stomach until they hover over my breasts. My nipples feel so tight I’m almost worried they might leak.
“You think you can give me a single taste of heaven, then deny me, Trouble? One taste and I’m addicted.”
He stands between my open legs, and the need he ignites is nowhere near snuffed out. My first orgasm from a guy in over a year, and yet my back arches, chest thrust against his because I’m still desperately seeking relief.
“You’d want another taste?” I sigh as my hips squirm.
He sticks his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, then slowly draws them out. I gasp, holding his gaze as I feel them push into my pussy. Gently circling as they ease deeper, both our mouths drop on a moan when he pushes in fully.
“Another taste is one of the many things I want,” he says, swirling his fingers.
My hands reach for the button on his pants, but he stops me. “Please don’t rush me. Let me have this. Let me have you.”
I nod, leaning back on both hands as I spread my legs wider for him. “Whatever you want is yours.”
His fingers thrust in and out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as if he’s the one being pleasured. He moves with long, languid strokes that have me holding my breath. Only when my hips begin to move does he go faster and deeper.
“Holy shit, that’s good,” I pant.
Mason looks down between us. My toes curl, and my hands grip the edges of the table as he moves in closer.
When I roll my hips, it traps his hand between us, forcing it to press into the bulge in his pants. He lets out a breathy moan, so I buck my hips again, fucking myself on his fingers. His hips move, pressing against my thighs as he goes deeper, as if we were fucking for real.
My moans grow louder. I don’t think I’ve ever been this vocal, but it’s also never been this good.
He lifts his eyes to mine, getting distracted when I thrust my chest up, chasing more.
Mason fumbles one-handed with the buttons on my shirt, until he exposes my tank top underneath, biting my nipple through the fabric. I shudder and gasp from the sensation, making him do it again.
A stuttering moan fills the otherwise quiet room as he teases me with his teeth, and then he’s shifting my tank top and bra away. A bead of milk sits on the end of my nipple, and he sucks in a breath. Shit.
He looks at me from under his lashes, his eyes seeming darker, stormier, as his attention seems caught between me and my exposed, leaking nipple.
“Can I?”
I nod, too curious to deny him. Mason leans in, closing his mouth over the erect bud and gently sucks.
“Fuck.” I whimper, my legs squeezing around his hips.
He does it again, and I can’t believe how much this is turning me on. I can’t control the way my hips buck and grind. They’re frantic and rough, and it’s not enough.
My hands lift from the table, burying into Mason’s hair as I hold him to my leaking breast.
“Mason,” I beg. “Don’t stop.”
His tongue lashes over my nipple, lips gently sucking as his hips snap against mine, moving as if there’s nothing between us, nothing separating his cock from plunging inside me and further shattering my world.
The heel of his palm massages over my clit, and his fingers do something that feels too good to be true.
My hand moves to the waistband of his pants, pulling him harder against me as my throat grows raw with my cries for him.
When he pulls away from my chest, his eyes are lust-drunk.
“Callie,” he moans my name against my lips, and I do the same back to him, tugging on the strands of his hair where my other hand is still buried.
My body feels like an inferno. Pure madness has consumed me. It’s consumed us both, filling the room with nothing but frantic, carnal moans and the clashing of the table as it rocks. The air is thick and hot as I let my orgasm free again, just as Mason’s body shatters against mine.
Sweat beads on my temple, and my fingers play in the damp strands on the back of Mason’s neck.
“I wasn’t. Expecting. That,” I say with a smile, still catching my breath.
“I would’ve been happy with just the kiss, but your pussy and an orgasm are… fuck.”
He kisses me clumsily, and my stomach flips when he eventually pulls his fingers out of me.
His tongue languidly strokes against mine, and he doesn’t pull away from me as he brings his fingers between where our mouths are parted.
The ones that were just inside me. Instead, he rests them against my tongue and then licks them clean.
I think I might pass out if he continues to turn me on any further than he already has. I’m thoroughly satisfied and positively ruined.
“Jesus. Fuck,” he groans. It’s rough and gravelly and tastes like sin against my mouth. “You taste so fucking good, making me come so hard, and I didn’t even get to sink my cock into your tight, little pussy.”
I rear back. “You came?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says, kissing me hard, pinning my bottom lip gently between his teeth. “You made me come in my pants with your hot pussy squeezing my fingers.”
“I can’t bel—”
The sound of voices and car doors slamming nearby interrupts my train of thought.
“Shit!” I push Mason’s chest so I can jump off the trestle table and frantically put my underwear back in place, running to my shorts that were tossed aside.
I hop on one leg, trying to redress myself as Mason leans back, arms folded over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, looking smug as fuck.
“What are you doing?” I hiss and shimmy my shorts up. My heart feels like it’s in my throat when I hear voices growing louder and gravel crunching under approaching footsteps.
“Enjoying the view.”
“Shouldn’t you go clean yourself up or something?” I button my shirt back up, trying to pull myself together so it doesn’t look like I just got the finger-fuck of a lifetime and two orgasms to go with it.
“In a little bit.” He shrugs, walking towards me. “I think I want to keep the reminder for a little longer.” He puts his fingers in his mouth again, drawing them out slowly with a wink as he strolls out of the room.
I hear him greeting the guys who’ve just rocked up as if nothing happened.
Thank God he knows how to play it cool, cos for the rest of the day, I’m burning.