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It doesn’t take long to get to the peak. Orgasmic waves wash over me and wetness gushes from my core.
And Mason doesn’t stop eating my ass and stuffing my pussy with his fingers until my knees give out and I fall sideways on the mattress, shivering and bumbling his name.
Through my fuzzy awareness, I hear the sound of the zipper on his duffel bag. The soft crinkle of a foil packet being ripped open. Then the bastard pulls me back up onto my knees, with my ass pointed up at the damn ceiling.
I feel Mason kneeling behind me, his thighs braced around mine. Then the tip of his erection prods my entrance, abruptly piercing through my ready opening. And a moment later, my pussy is blissfully full of his cock.
“Fuuucckk…” Mason groans low as my walls ripple, adjusting to his girth. “Jesus Christ, Karli.”
“Please,” I whine, my hips starting to wiggle on impulse.
Mason’s hands grip me, his fingertips biting into my waist to control my movements. I can tell that he wants to hold back, but then he’s moving too.
His hands hold my legs open while his cock pistons in and out. The man bangs the everliving shit out of me. And the faster I jerk my hips, the harder he thrusts. And the louder I beg for him, the deeper he buries himself inside me. And soon everything is just a blur of moans and sweat and a frantic chase for release.
Pressure is simmering now, boiling low in my belly. I know I’m almost there. My body is almost ready.
“I’m so close,” I sob into the mattress, “Please, Mason.” I’m past the point of trying to be cute or ladylike. I just want him to make me see the moon and the stars.
His hand finds my breast, tweaking my hard nipple before giving it a little pull. His warm breath tickles the back of my neck. “Come for me, baby.”
At his command, my entire body momentarily goes taut. Then my restraint shatters and I fall apart in his hands with a pathetic whimper. Fire eats through my limbs and I succumb to the pleasure.
As I come and come and come, I feel Mason emptying inside me, his cock twitching and pulsing in the clutch of my pussy.
We both tumble onto the mattress, sweaty and out of breath. After lying quietly beside me for a moment, Mason swings his legs over the side of the bed, and I watch his perfectly round ass as he wordlessly saunters out of the room.
Crap. Fuck. Not the same shit again.
Automatically, my anxiety starts to build. Because this is the part where he shut down last time. It was in the aftershocks of sex that he pulled away from me. I realize mournfully that tonight will be more of the same. That’s the last thing I want right now. I just want to be close to him. I don’t want him to go.
I clench the sheets tightly around my shivering body, bracing myself for the fact that he’s going to come back in here and ask me for his space. Or worse, he won’t come back at all.
I hold my breath when Mason returns a long moment later with a damp bath towel clutched in one hand. He’s got a sandwich and a water bottle balanced in his other hand.
I blink.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find one of those little rag things,” he tells me, all breezy and carefree. “But this’ll work, right?”
Huh?I suppress the hopeful flutter in my chest. “Right.”
Wearing an easy grin, Mason sets the food on the night stand and he kneels on the bed. Hovering over me, he tenderly cleans the sweat and other bodily fluids from my skin.
His gaze flicks to mine, soft and kind in the faint light seeping in from the hallway. “This okay?” he asks.
I purse my lips and nod. “Mm-hmm.”
He continues to clean me up, stopping periodically to kiss my collarbone and my ribcage and the hollow of my stomach.
Holy shit. What is happening right now?
I try to keep my face neutral. Like getting a post-sex wipe-down from a hot-as-hell specimen of a man is totally normal. Happens to me every day. Every damn day.
But my racing pulse can’t lie.
When he’s done, he gives me a little smile, those dimples popping and making my heart jump.
He mindlessly drops the towel to the floor and hands me the plate.
