Page 68 of Poet & Protector

He reached up and ran his fingertips along my cheek. “Thank you.”

Then he pulled me toward him and nipped my bottom lip. “But I want this. I want to try everything with you.”

Kissing me again, he added, “And find out what we like.”

“Mmmm.” I savored the way his lips moved slowly over mine. “I have a feeling we’ll like everything.”

“I have a feeling you’re right.” He caught and held my gaze.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” I said, the ache within me unbearable. “Now.”

“Only if you do, too,” he replied hoarsely.

Our remaining clothes were gone in seconds.

Mason rolled onto his back and stretched, intentionally putting his body on full display. My mouth went dry. I’d caught glimpses of him when we managed to steal time to be alone, but we were always partially clothed. For the first time, he was stripped bare and fully revealed to me, more beautiful than any sculpture, any painting. I couldn’t believe he was mine.

“How do you want me?”

And he was going to kill me before the night was over if he kept saying things like that.

As if he didn’t know what that question did to me, he smiled sweetly, watching me and waiting for my answer.

“I want you all the ways,” I told him. It was true.

“Good,” he said, his smile became wicked. “Please have me all the ways.”

I laughed, levering myself over him. “I will.”

Leaning down, I nuzzled his cheek. “But the first time I want to see your face, so stay just like that.”

Mason trailed his hand along my chest and down my stomach, lower. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want me to do?”

Growling, I batted his fingers away before they caused trouble. “Not if you want this to last.”

To ensure he behaved, I lifted his arms above his head. Locking both his wrists in the grasp of one of my hands, I kissed him, keeping him distracted as I reached over the side of the bed with my free hand and dug through my bag until I found what I needed.

Setting the bottle of lube on the bed beside us, I returned my full focus to kissing Mason. I released his wrists and let my weight sink into him. Our bodies moved together, his hardness dragging against mine.

Drawing back, I looked at him, taking in his swollen lips and lust-drunk eyes. I eased my way down his body, kissing, licking, scraping my teeth over his skin. His gaze tracked my every movement, his breath coming faster. When I gripped his shins and pushed, he instantly bent his knees and opened himself to me. His trust shattered me and I had to close my eyes for a moment to steady myself before I could look at him again.

“Ready?” I asked.

He nodded, his eyes locked on me as I drenched my fingers in silky liquid.

This wasn’t completely new territory for us. We did a lot of experimenting when we were alone together, but tonight was the first time it wasn’t simply a source of pleasure in itself, instead becoming a step toward something more.

Mason drew a sharp breath as I took him in my mouth, and I groaned, loving the feel and the taste of him, the contradiction of iron-hard arousal and velvet-soft skin. I eased a finger inside him and forced myself to breathe deeply, to stay as calm as possible when a growl of pleasure rumbled in his chest…which wasn’t calm at all.

I added a second finger and continued to tease with my lips and tongue as I scissored my fingers, working him open. His moans and whimpers told me he was reveling in every sensation. Pushing a third finger inside him, I moved slowly, letting him adjust to the added stretch and pressure, curling my fingers, making him gasp.

Only when his hips bucked and started rocking into my hand did I pull back. A sound of protest escaped him at the sudden emptiness.

“I’ve got you, Mason,” I said softly.

He watched as I slicked myself up. I grimaced as my lubed hand slid over my aching length. I was way too sensitive after prepping him. A few pumps into my own fist and I’d come.

He gave me a knowing smile. “You’re dying aren’t you? You need me.”