He smiles, capping the water and tossing it. “She loves cupcakes.”
“Mm.”
Maybe if we ever visit Australia together, I can make her some.
“So, speaking of sisters, Juls is having me over for dinner Friday night. Do you want to go with me? It could be our official coming out as a couple debut, or whatever. If you’re busy, that’s okay. It isn’t a big deal or anything. It’s just dinner.”
I stare at my fingers as they twist together on my stomach.
Way to play down your looming sadness, Brooke.
Geez. Why do I already feel disappointed? As if the possibility of Mason having other plans that don’t involve me is too depressing to even consider. We don’t have to spend every weekend together. He’s allowed to have a life without me. Visit his own family without me . . .
Or, he could opt for not having a life without me and that would be terrific too.
Mason rolls over, kneeling between my legs, his large hands pushing up my shirt, his shirt, and stroking my torso.
“Brooke, do you have any idea how desperate I was to know you? To spend time together when this all started between us? That hasn’t changed. I’m quite obsessed with you, if you haven’t noticed. I want anything you’re willing to give me, especially if it’s something you’re asking me to take.” He squeezes my hips and rubs my thighs. He bends to kiss my stomach. “I’m yours. My body, my soul. All of my time is yours.”
I slide my fingers through his hair. “Okay,” I quietly reply, my heart beating so loudly I barely hear my own voice.
“And anything involving you is a big deal to me.” He looks up, a playful smirk lifting one side of his mouth. “You were worried I’d be busy?”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “Maybe.”
“You think too much, Brooke. You make yourself nervous and unsure when you don’t need to be.” He kisses my rib. “Ask me again while you’re sucking my dick.”
“What?” I laugh, watching him push back onto his knees. Ask him again? “You already said yes.”
“Pretend I didn’t. You won’t be so worried about my answer if you’re focused on making me come.” He fists his shaft. “Plus, I just really want you to suck me. Ever since you put that image in my head about fucking your pretty little mouth.” He moans, pulling on his cock. His eyes burning down my body and lingering between my legs. “Come on, sweetheart. Before I flip you over and take you on your knees.”
I inhale sharply.
Shit. To stall or to act. Suck him off or be fucked.
Both options seem equally compelling, but the longer I stare at Mason stroking his cock, the easier my decision becomes.
“Lie down. You’re going to want to be on your back for this.” I sit up and strip off my shirt, tossing it off the bed.
Mason slides his hand possessively over my breasts as we switch positions. He settles on his back, feet crossed at the ankles, his arms tucked beneath his head, and his cock lying heavy on his stomach.
I fist him at the base, spreading his legs wide with my knees. “How do you like it? Rough? A little teeth? Do you like your balls played with?” I take him into my mouth as much as I can. I cup his balls and fondle them.
If he doesn’t like it, he will by the end of this.
“Fuck,” Mason hisses through a groan, his body tensing.
He runs his hand along my cheek, pressing his thumb to the corner of my mouth and sliding it inside, feeling his cock against my tongue. His lips part.
I lick the underside of his shaft, swirling my tongue around the head and wetting him fully. I slide my hand up and down his glistening cock as I lap at his balls.
“Ah . . . God, Brooke.”
“Mm,” I moan, taking him into my mouth again and sucking vigorously.
He hits the back of my throat, again and again, cursing with his hands fisting my hair. Tugging gently.
I suckle at the head and smear a drop of precum on my lips, slowly licking it off.
His thighs jump. His chest rising and falling swiftly. I look up into his eyes and gasp around his length. He looks wracked. His eyes are electric, round with shock. The blue irises swelling and blackening with desire.
He told me his body was mine and this is what he meant. I own him right now. He isn’t fighting his pleasure. He isn’t holding back his reaction to me and what I’m doing to him. I ask Mason what he likes and he curses while staring, mesmerized, marveling in the wet seal of my flesh with his.
He’s giving me this. Trusting me with this part of him. With every part. Knowing I’ll care and adore him in the way he deserves, or at least hoping I will.
I will. God, I will. I want him overwhelmed. As far gone as he makes me feel. And I won’t stop until I get him there.
I gently press my teeth into his length. He thrusts off the mattress.
“Fuck!”
“You like that?” I teasingly ask, wrapping my hand around his cock and slapping it against my tongue. “What about this?” I lean over his body and rub his slick head over my nipple. The hardened peak shimmers with saliva. The soft skin between my legs grows wet. My breath catches. “Oh, God, Mason, do you like this?”
He fists my hair and growls. “Baby.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I whisper, kissing his shaft. Licking it. “You want to come? I know you do. Let’s see what we can do about that.”
I drop back down and swallow him, raking my nails up his stomach to his ribs while I bob my head. I work fast, then faster, sucking hard and taking him deep. His thick member swells in my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I gasp when he tugs my hair and smile when his hips begin jerking in tiny movements off the bed.
“Brooke,” he groans, thrusting more boldly now. His cock fucking my mouth in earnest.
I reach between my legs and brush my clit. My quiet moans don’t go undetected.
“Fuck, yeah. God, do it, baby. Look at you. Rub that pretty little pussy for me.”
Mason’s filthy mouth, the throbbing of his cock against my tongue, and the hoarse way he says my name gets me there in record time. My desire drips down my hand. Releasing his shaft with my other, I stroke over his balls and press my finger against the smooth skin just below.
He inhales a sharp breath. His body arches off the bed. “Ah, God . . . fuck! Fuck, I’m gonna come. Baby, I’m gonna come.”
I move my fingers against my clit until my legs shake and my climax burns up my spine. Mason pulls my hair and floods my mouth. I swallow between moans and whimpers, sucking on his head.
Holy fuck, I think.
“Holy fuck,” he says, breathing heavily and rubbing my scalp.
With a heavy sigh, I collapse on top of him, my head lifeless on his thigh and my body half sprawled across his legs and half tangled up in the sheets. I close my eyes, sighing when he wraps me up and pulls me to his chest, cradling me there.
“Filthy girl,” he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to my mouth and cheek. “My filthy fucking girl. I’ll go to dinner with you. I’ll go anywhere, yeah? You don’t need to ask.”
I squeeze his neck. I bury my face there and smile. “It’s ‘cause I can suck a good dick, right?”
Laughing, he pulls the covers over us, tucking me close.
Mason never argues my lighthearted reasoning. Or maybe he does and I’m too drunk with happiness to hear him.
So drunk I feel dizzy, spinning more and more out of control. Falling further into this blind madness where, as long as he holds on to me, I feel safe and steady.
Our usual coffee time together is skipped the next morning. For good reason.
Every time I attempt to get dressed, Mason bites my neck or pinches my nipple, stripping off my clothes and entering me in one hard thrust. We fuck on the bed, in the chair, against the wall by the window. Minutes turn into an hour, and after he leisurely fingers me against the shower wall and comes on my ass, we stumble out together and frantically scramble into our clothes.
Him, loose shorts and a fitted gray tee.