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She shuddered a breath, falling to her elbows on the side of the bed. "Tell me," she gasped.
His hands paused, then he found the zipper and eased it down. Her dress pooled on the ground, leaving her in a pink polka dotted thong.
His finger ran down her spine slowly, inch by inch, making goosebumps spread on her flesh. "What do you want me to say, little bird?"
"Mason." His name was a plea on her lips, a prayer for more, a cry for completion. His breath tickled her ear, his body heat close but not close enough.
His voice was gravelly in the dim light of the room, the plug in night light from the open bathroom door their only light.
"Do you want me to tell you how often I jerked off to your pictures? How I imagined your sweet lips wrapped around my dick?"
She moaned, her eyes closing as she swayed and spread her legs, pushing her ass back toward him.
"Or do you want me to tell you how I never want to be with anyone else ever again? You're like ambrosia. One taste wasn't enough to live on. I need to keep coming back for more."
He palmed her ass again, but his enveloping heat moved behind her. Then he kissed her ass. She gasped, squirming to get relief.
"Can I taste you, Lucy?" he asked, biting softly on her flesh.
She gasped, feeling her core clench. "You're the master. You tell me."
He chuckled, then he nudged her thighs wider. "Now there's a good little bird, such a good girl. If that's how you want to play this, then let's go. Put your knees on the bed."
His demand sent a thrill along her spine, and she pushed her ass back toward him, standing on her tiptoes. "But I want—"
He spanked her. The sharp sting of it made her squeal and jerk.
"I thought I was the master?" he chuckled, rubbing his palm over the stinging spot and then kneading it like dough.
She moaned and eased one knee onto the bed, then the other. "Yes, master," she gasped.
His fingers dug into her ass, making her shake with need. "That's a good girl."
His finger dipped under the seam of her thong, and her breathing was ragged. Her brain was stuttering, focused solely on his hands as he eased the thong down her hips to the floor. She crawled onto the edge of the bed on all fours and stuck her ass in the air. She spread her knees wide with her ankles hanging off the bed.
He groaned and ran his hands up the sides of her thighs. "God, do you know what you do to me, love? Seeing you spread out so open for me to do whatever I want?"
She felt a thrill at the new nickname. He loved her.
"Do it. Have your way with me."
His hands paused on her ass, "Is it safe for the baby?"
She gasped as he gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide. He was as sweet as honey, more addicting than sugar. And just like a bee, he had a stinger that could hurt or protect.
Or give her so much pleasure she saw stars.
She wiggled at him like a bird trying to catch the attention of a mate. "All the books say it's fine. Maybe go slow at first since it's been a while?"
He trailed a finger down her crack, making her twitch. "Oh, I can definitely do that. Anything for you, my love."
She whimpered, both at the words and at his touch. He caressed her clit in a small, soft circle.
Her breath fractured, and she cried out, "God, yes."
"This is what you want, Luce?"
He started at the top and slid his finger down, circling it again, over and over until she wanted to scream. Instead, she hit the bed with her fist. "Mason, please."
