Mason’s mouth curves into a grin. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
He walks over to the couch and drops onto it, spreading his long arms across the backrest. I hover awkwardly for a second before sitting down beside him, just close enough that our legs brush.
The faint scent of sunscreen lingers on his skin. My stomach does a somersault.
“So,” I say, fiddling with the drawstring of my sweatpants. “How, um. How was your day?”
The hinge of his jaw twitches. “Honestly? One of the worst days of my life.” He lets out a dry, humorless laugh that makes my stomach twist.
I freeze, anxiety spiking. “Because… you regret what we did yesterday?”
His head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “What? No. God, no. It’s not that.” He exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “It’s just… family stuff. I don’t really want to get into it. Not right now.”
I nod quickly. “Okay. Yeah. I get it.”
He leans back against the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment before murmuring, “I just want to forget about it for a little while.”
My pulse stutters as my eyes flicker to his mouth. “Do you want me to, uh… distract you?” I ask, my voice awkward and small.
Flirting has never been my strength—I fumble words, miss cues, say things that sound clumsy instead of seductive. But Mason is looking at me like I’m doing a good job. Like he actuallywantsto kiss me.
“Please, Hunter.”
Before I can overthink it, I lean in. Our lips touch softly at first, then crash together hard like waves breaking against the shore. He tastes sweet like soda, the subtle flavor of root beer on his breath.
He deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into my mouth, his hands sliding into my hair. I melt into him, every nerve buzzing under my skin. His fingers grip the back of my neck, guiding me closer until I’m half sprawled across his lap.
When his hands move to the hem of my tank top, I raise my arms, letting him tug it off. Cool air prickles my skin, my nipples hardening to pink peaks. Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest, trying to silence the cruel voice in my head taunting me with insecurities.
I know I’m not built like him. I don’t have ripped muscles. My body is lean and lanky, my limbs disproportionately long. I’ve never felt at home in my body, but for some reason, Mason touches me like I’m beautiful.
I kiss him again, harder this time, pressing him back into the cushions. He exhales a shaky breath, one hand still tangled in my hair, the other gripping my waist like he can’t get close enough.
His palms drag down my chest, rough and hot against my skin. When his fingers find my nipples, teasing and pinching, the sensation zaps through me like electricity. I gasp, hips jerking involuntarily. I fist the fabric of his shirt, yanking him closer, desperate to feel more of him. He pulls back only long enough to strip it over his head and toss it aside.
My breath catches. He’s all golden skin and lean muscle, every line and shadow begging to be touched. My gaze trails over his chest, the carved lines of his stomach, the faint dusting of hair leading down from his navel.
Then he’s on me again, his weight pressing me into the couch, the brown leather cool against my back as his mouth drags down my throat. His hair brushes my chin, soft and ticklish, before he licks my skin like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
His hands pause at my waist, fingers trembling slightly. His voice drops low, rough against my ear. “Can I touch you?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah.”
He cups me through my sweatpants, making me whimper into his neck. I lift my hips to rut against him, my legs twitching and trashing beneath him. His hands are huge, veins raised across the surface as his fingers squeeze my erection.
“You’re so hard,” he muses, his voice rough with need.
Our mouths crash together again, messy and frantic, teeth grazing, breath mingling. When he shifts, pressing down against me, the friction makes my whole body tremble. I gasp into his mouth, my fingers gripping at his shoulders like I’m afraid to let go.
“I want to taste you again,” he pants against my lips. “Is that okay?”
“Y-yeah. Please.”
He grabs my waistband, and I lift for him, letting him strip my sweatpants and briefs in one swift pull. My cock springs free, slapping against my stomach. His gaze slowly cascades down my body as he licks his lips.
He straddles my thighs, and the sheer weight of him sitting on me is astounding. Everything about him is sobig.
A broken whine tears from my throat as he fists my cock, stroking me slowly. Through fluttering lashes, I watch his mouth inch toward the tip of my cock before wet heat surrounds me.He swallows my entire length with practiced ease, head bobbing, his tongue sliding against every ridge and vein.
