AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The sheets suddenly seemed thin. Too cold to give the woman warmth. It was only he who could warm her, the man between her legs.
There up on the ceiling I saw Mason’s naked body between mine. His toes scrambling for purchase as he bucked against the mattress. His fingers thrusting in and out of me. His head moving as he ran his tongue up and down in long, hot streaks.
I watched as my hands reached for him, suddenly afraid I wouldn’t find him. That the woman in the reflection would keep stretching and stretching and not find flesh. Not find muscle. Not find his fingers to intertwine with. To lock into. To hold onto and not let go.
I reached for Mason as I waited for an answer. As I stared up at the woman. At myself. As I trembled with pleasure, as I shivered with fear. As my orgasm loomed on the horizon, hot and white. As it all balanced on a question I wished I hadn’t asked.
Mason lifted his head. To get my answer I would have to look down at him. I couldn’t look at this painting on the ceiling. I couldn’t look at this projection of him and me, of the woman and the man, the actress and the actor on the screen.
I had to be there. In the moment. I had to look at Mason. Be there with Mason. To look into his eyes. To see him. To hear him. The real him. The real me.
My hand, still reaching, found his. He weaved his fingers through mine. I held on tight and drew my eyes to him down across my body.
Mason spoke one word and I could feel it against me. Against the wet heat of my folds. Against the raised bud of my clit. I could feel it inside of me.
“Yes.”
I heard it. But I felt it, too. I felt it.
I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine. We breathed heavily across one another. Eyes locked. Bodies rising and falling in time.
“And you?” Mason asked between licks. “You’ll come back?”
Mason swirled his tongue around my clit. I groaned, resisted the urge to let my head fall back again. With his mouth on me, with his tongue in me, with his eyes on mine, I answered in return.
“Yes.”
I’d wanted him to hear me. Of course I’d wanted him to hear me, just like I’d heard him. But I wanted him also to feel the word, the promise, the vow I’d made. I’d wanted the word “yes” to echo in my lungs, to travel through my veins, to crash over my body like an unstoppable wave. I wanted him to feel its power. Its strength. Its truth.
I had just enough time to think that this was how a marriage ceremony should be. Promising one to another through one’s body. The ultimate connection. The most honest of vows. I had just enough time to think that any ceremony we had in the future (and I stupidly, ridiculously I believed we would) couldn’t possibly be as meaningful as the one we’d just conducted between each other there on that bed.
Mason sucked my clit into his lips hard, gripped me tighter, pulled me closer, and sent me hurtling off the edge.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever come like that before. So fully. So completely. It emptied me and filled me in ways that I hadn’t known were possible. I tore at the sheets above my head and tried to buck away from Mason’s fingers and tongue, but he just held me there, sending wave after wave crashing over me.
When I finally collapsed onto the bed, soaked and shaking, Mason was there beside me, caressing my cheek, running his fingers through my hair.
“I’ll be here,” he said, his voice echoing inside of me.
“I’ll come back,” I said, and I swore I could hear the words beating through my chest and into his heart.
After I’d dressed, I crossed the room on wobbly legs. When I paused at the door to smile back at Mason still there on the bed, I felt I finally had solid ground beneath me.
In a few hours’ time I would learn just how wrong I was. It wasn’t solid ground. Mason wasn’t solid ground.
It was quicksand.
He was quicksand.
