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Oh crap. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. The truth is I do watch porn occasionally. Hey, I’m a guy.Pornhubis free, and why the hell not? I didn’t exactly want to broadcast that to her, though. She probably thinks I’m a sex-crazed pervert now.
“It’s just what I’ve heard,” I lie.
“Lies!” She gives me a shit-eating grin. “Do you watch porn, Mason?”
“No.”
“Aww, come on.” She pokes me in the ribs. “Don’t be shy. You can tell me.”
Fuck. Not only am I not getting out of this, but she’s using my own words against me. I desperately try to think of a way to change the subject, but my stupid brain has decided to take a goddamn nap when I need it most.
Well, fuck it.
I may as well own this shit.
“Maybe I do,” I purr, giving her a wicked smile, and her eyes widen as I suddenly turn the tables. “What about you? Have you ever watched porn, Flower?”
Her body tenses as she leans in toward me, those blue eyes of hers going dark with challenge. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Oh, I definitely would.” I dig my fingers into her side, and she lets out a squeal. Pushing her hands against my chest, she forces my back to hit the bed and swings her leg over. Straddling my waist, she places her hands on my chest and pins me down, flashing me a smug grin.
“Ha! That’s another point for Wonder Woman, Superman!”
“So it would seem. Well, you—” I look down between us and freeze. Her pussy is pressed down against my cock, separated only by the fabric of our clothing, and the sight of it instantly sends pulsating currents straight down to my groin. My cock lengthens, pressing up into her and my hands clench the sheets as my whole body goes rigid in an attempt to ward it off.
My heart picks up speed, and I look up, watching the smile on her face start to fade. She glances down between us and sucks in a sharp breath. There is no denying she can feel my erection, and I feel as though I’ve been momentarily stunned into paralysis as I wait for her reaction.
Her eyes look up to meet mine, those brilliant blues becoming eclipsed with darkness, and my breathing suddenly becomes rapid in anticipation of what she will do. The sound of our heavy breaths cuts through the silence, and still keeping her eyes locked on mine, she starts to move.
Rolling her hips, she grinds down on top of me, and an involuntary groan rumbles from my chest as pleasure spirals into my groin.
Smoothing my hands up her thighs, I grip her hips and push her down onto me harder. Her eyes flutter closed as the faintest of moans escape her lips, and I immediately sit up, crashing my lips against hers.
She kisses me back eagerly, our lips parting and tongues wrestling with each other as we both lose control, our hands searching and exploring each other’s bodies with a sense of urgency. She tugs at the bottom of my sweater, then slowly pulls it up, and my body goes stiff as nerves set in.
Breaking the kiss, her eyes search mine as if sensing my tension, then soften into a look of reassurance. “Let me see you, Mason.”
Nodding my head, I take over and remove my sweater and T-shirt in one go. Throwing it to the side, I look back and watch as she studies my torso with wide eyes.
Thank God I work out.
I’m no macho bodybuilder, but I do keep myself in shape, and she is more than impressed by the look on her face.
Fixing her stare on my black tribal tattoo, she reaches up and lightly traces her fingers along the outline, then follows the path of ink leading from my forearm, up to my shoulder, and down to the front of my chest. Once she reaches my pec, she traces around the symbol surrounded by intricate tribal swirls.
“This is amazing. What is it?” she asks softly.
“It’s the Krav Maga symbol. James did this for me for my eighteenth birthday.”
Her hand drops, and my mouth suddenly runs dry as she tugs at the bottom of her shirt, pulls it up over her head, and tosses it to the side. I feel like I’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe as I drink in the beauty of her flawless tanned skin that sheens in bright contrast to the white lace bra hugging her perky breasts.
Below her left breast is the tattoo of a sparrow on her rib cage. It’s nothing more than the outline of the bird with its wings spread behind it, in flight. There is no color or filling, but its simplicity is captivating.
“This was my eighteenth birthday present.”
I nod my head, the ability to speak hindered by the thickness in my throat. She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra. The straps slide off her shoulders, giving me a full unobstructed view of her breasts, causing my cock to strain to the point of pain.
Taking my hand in hers and placing it on her chest, she guides it down until my palm cups the underside of her breast. I lazily trace my thumb over her small pink nipple and watch in fascination as it hardens at my touch.
