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Mason released a slow exhale. “Stay here.” He headed toward our walk-in closet, but it wouldn’t be a difficult choice for him. I tended toward blue shirts in all shades, and simple ties to go with my suits.
I glanced at the clock as he took forever beyond my line of sight. We didn’t have much time before—
The thought of being late for work shot from my mind as Mason emerged with a piece of clothing I hadn’t looked at or touched for months. Pale pink silk spilled over his shaking hands, and my heart stumbled, the blood draining from my face.
No, no, no—
“Arms up,” he whispered, his focus on my chest as he held the nightie by its spaghetti straps.
I swallowed hard at the memory of the last time its hem had brushed over the middle of my thighs. “Mase…”
“Please.” He still stared at where my heart threatened to burst from my body.
Unsure of what to think or even try to read his mind or intent, I released an unsteady exhale and gave him what he wanted.
He slid the silken material over my head, the sheath fluttering to pool around my waist.
“Don’t move,” he murmured and hurried to the bedstand.
Fuck.
How long had he known?
Fists at my sides, I chewed on the inside of my lip until I tasted blood. I swallowed repeatedly as Mason knelt before me with my favorite lace panties. He didn’t speak but caressed my ankle until I lifted first one foot then the other for him to slide them on. Hands still shaking, he slid the scrap of material up to my knees.
“Stand up for me?” he whispered with a hint of a question in his voice.
Regardless of my trembling legs, I obeyed, the towel falling from my waist to the floor, the shift drifting down to cover my cock and balls.
My lover pulled the panties up my hairy thighs, settling the waistband into place. Without a word, he took my hand and led me to the full-length mirror tucked into the corner of our bedroom.
Refusing to look at myself, I studied Mason’s reflection where he stood behind me.
He slid his fingertips over my shoulders, toying with the straps of the nightie. Holding my gaze in the mirror, he smoothed my palms along my sides to my waist where he began to bunch up the soft material, slowly baring my groin.
A low groan escaped him. “So damn pretty—look at you, Jasper.”
I gulped at his words, the awe in his tone.
He didn’t think I was a sick pervert…
Wetness welled in my eyes as he held the nightie at my waist, his other hand slipping down to cup my lace-covered bulge. He kissed my shoulder before licking up my neck. One step brought him closer, pressing the evidence of what my appearance did to his body against me.
“You—you aren’t disgusted?” I rasped.
“No.”
“T-Triggered?” I asked, thinking about the clothing Joseph had worn the night he’d taken advantage of my love.
Mason was quiet for a few moments, but I saw the second he figured out exactly what I’d asked. “Not even a tiny bit.” He ground his dick against my ass. “See how perfect you are?” he whispered against my ear before stroking his tongue over the shell and sending shivers down my spine. “Every inch of you, inside and out. You’re the present wrapped up in a pretty pink bow I always dreamed about as a young boy and never received.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and he turned me toward him, gathering me into his arms.
“I love you, Jasper. Every part—and if you want to dress like this at home, hell, even when we go out on dates, I’m here for it. Want it, even. I’m having sudden fantasies about you tucking that lace off to the side before you wreck my ass.”
“You don’t think that’s…weird? It’s normally the bottom wearing panties or thongs.”
He snorted. “No fucking way.” He ground his groin against mine, enticing my dick to thicken up. “Does that feel like the thought of my pretty top wearing fem clothing turns me off?”
