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“Long day?” I asked as his eyes traveled unapologetically up my crossed legs. They were wrapped in black tights paired with an off-the-shoulder sweater dress that Sofia classified as “not-even-trying-to-be” sexy. “At least now you’ll actually be looking forward to St. Lucia.”
Mason gave a tired laugh. But he didn’t respond – at least not in words. Leaning back, he held out his hand and when I took it, he brought me close enough to cup the backs of my thighs and pull me onto his lap. I masked my excitement well as I obliged and straddled him, letting him snake my arms around his neck till I was settled comfortably in his arms. I wet my lips. We’d sat this closely that night at the Victorian Hotel, but this time felt completely different. For starters, I wasn’t crying. I was inches from Mason’s faint, sexy grin, our noses almost touching and our relaxed breaths mingling. It was easily the closest we’d ever been to each other and the realization alone made me squirm. But being that I was in Mason’s lap, my squirming had him quickly groaning and holding me still with two handfuls of my ass. My mouth parted at his firm grip, and I let out a breath that made him murmur, “Don’t do this to me.”
I countered. “What if I want to?”
Mason cocked an eyebrow. “Want to what?” When I bit my lips, he grinned wickedly. “Don’t get shy now. Tell me what you want to do.”
I stared back at the mischief in his eye. “I want to do what you keep refusing to let me because you think it’ll make me feel used.”
“And what’s that?”
My smile was a bit shy as I rubbed his chest. “Return the favor.”
I could feel him getting turned on. “Return the favor. I don’t know what that means,” Mason challenged with a smirk. “Tell me explicitly. In words.”
“I want to make your cock hard and put it in my mouth,” I returned so quickly he sat stunned for a moment. But while he was still for a moment, I felt his erection twitch under me. I watched lust cloud over his face as he twisted handfuls of my sweater. “I want to make you come as hard as you’ve made me come.”
“Is that right.” His breaths grew heavier as he stretched my top. My arousal built up as I watched the cotton inch down my body – my shoulders first, then the tops of my breasts, hooking on my hard nipple till Mason was a short yank away from exposing me fully. His eyelids were heavy as he teased himself. He wetted his sculpted lips as he stared ahead at my breasts, his cock swelling furiously underneath me. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to get anything done this weekend,” his mouth moved closer to my tight peaks, “when all I could think about were these perfect fucking tits of yours.”
Feeling wicked, I gazed down at his handfuls of my dress. Just as he yanked it all the way down, I clasped my hands over my breasts, drawing a vicious groan from his lips as I covered what he was so aching to see.
“Come on,” he breathed, tortured. “Show me.”
“No.”
“You don’t want to do this to me.”
“Why not?” I cocked my head mischievously. But instead of answering, Mason gripped the edge of his desk, pulled us over till I was sandwiched between his broad chest and its glass surface. Wrapping his hands around my wrists, he tightened just enough to remind me of his strength. Then with a grunt and a pull he exposed my breasts for his mouth, growling as he caught and sucked my nipple between his hot lips. I gasped as he leaned forward and pushed me back on the desk, soaking my panties as he sucked on me hungrily, greedily. I let out a moaning breath, dizzy as blood rushed from my brain to the throbbing pulse between my legs.
“Touch yourself for me.”
His demand came with the sound of him undoing his belt. Yes. Back arched, I closed my eyes and obliged, feeling the arousal that soaked through both my panties and tights. Holy shit. I could hardly keep track of the different pleasures humming through me as Mason drew his tongue over my breast, furiously stroking his dick as I rubbed circles over my clit. Sensation burst in hot explosions throughout my whole body and only made me ache for more. But while I pleaded breathily for a condom, there was none in his office or my purse, so I was left to moan desperately as Mason gripped the root of his cock and teased me over my tights, tracing the length of my wetness with his thick, pulsing tip.
“Mason, please, I can’t…”
It was torment so ferociously wet and hot I was ready to say fuck it. I was so ready to give in but then he lifted me onto his desk, laying me flat on my back as he gripped my tights at the thighs and tore apart. I barely processed the sound of them ripping wide open before Mason slid two fingers inside and sucked on my clit. My jaw dropped as he worked his mouth over my swollen pearl, his tongue darting back and forth over it then swirling around as he pumped his fingers ruthlessly inside me. The incessant clinking of his belt only turned me on further because I knew what rapid motions were prompting that noise. He was jerking himself off. Furiously. God, this is too good. I felt woozy, out of my mind with satisfaction, but I lifted my head, bringing my knee close to my lips as I watched the muscle on Mason’s forearm twitch, using his firm grip to pleasure himself as his mouth pleasured me. I begged him not to stop as he lashed at me while bringing himself closer, his sculpted features twisting with the need to come.
But he got me there first, grasping my thighs as he groaned against my pussy, launching me like a rocket over the edge. Bucking against his desk, I practically screamed for the ecstasy surging through me. It was practically blinding, an orgasm more powerful than the last but while I wanted to soak in it, I wanted more to bring Mason to the heights he brought me. So straddling him again, I let him pull off my dress. He grunted as I wrapped both hands around the length of his cock. His lips were parted, his eyes filled with sleepy awe as he watched my breasts bounce between my arms while stroking him, picking up my pace till he was gritting his teeth and on the verge of coming.
When I felt him h
ardening in my grip, I let go and lowered myself to the ground, reveling in the shocked, “Fuck,” he breathed out as I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. He growled with even thicker, raspier pleasure as I dropped my mouth down on his shaft and dragged my tight, wet pull back to his tip. My hands trailed along his calves as I bobbed up and down on his lap, my clit throbbing again when I felt his hand grab a firm fistful of my hair. Gentle but firm, he guided me, murmuring sexy, gravelly filth at me as he watched me suck him off.
But I took control of the pace again when I felt him close, harder in my mouth than I knew possible. My hands were slippery as I stroked and sucked, my lips hot and swollen as they brought him to a sudden and shuddering orgasm. I gasped, eyes wide and back arched as Mason pumped stream after stream of thick cum onto my breasts, the perfect features on his face twisted in the hot, tortured, incredible pleasure. The fact that I was the one who brought him to those heights filled me with a dirty little sense of pride, especially as I knelt there wearing every drop of his satisfaction. I was so in awe I stayed there simply staring down at myself for a moment, feeling sexier than I’d ever felt in my life, especially as Mason gazed down at me, breathing hard and physically unable to pull his eyes away.
God, it felt good to be looked at that way.
It felt even better when the person looking was Mason Leo.
Though he tried to get back to work, Mason called it a night within twenty minutes and had his car take us to dinner. My tights thoroughly ruined, I wriggled into a new pair we bought at a twenty-four hour Duane Reade, laughing the whole time as Mason held his coat above me like a curtain.
After dinner that night, he took me home again. And though once again, we didn’t have sex, we got into bed together this time. And while I passed out before him, I woke in the night to feel my back against the hard warmth of his chest, and my resting pulse spiked just a bit when I processed his breath on my neck and his arm draped heavily around me.
Chapter Fifteen
It was my last day before leaving for St. Lucia, so I was happy to brave the freezing temperatures to stroll the holiday market at Columbus Circle. I’d be in eighty-degree sunshine tomorrow, so a bit of a chill didn’t bother me.
Wandering around the holiday markets, I entertained the thought of buying gifts despite the fact that I told Sofia I’d be swearing off Christmas, my birthday and New Years this season. After the breakup, I wanted no reminder that the days existed since I’d be spending them alone. So I warned Sofia not to buy me anything, as I wouldn’t be shopping for anyone myself. But tonight, I was more than happy to stroll the tents. I wore a placid smile as I wandered around alone, sampling apple cider and cooing over whittled tree ornaments, homemade peppermint bark and a million things I wouldn’t have cared about were it not for my mood. It continued on a high as I ditched the freezing outdoors for the heated luxury of the Shops at Columbus Circle.
