I just don’t know how.
Beyond Luce and Megan, I don’t allow anyone to creep past the hard shell I’ve spent years creating. Dancing has always been my expression. I use it to let everything out without words.
So I show him the only way I know how and plead with him with my eyes to let it be enough.
Darting out my tongue, I swipe him from my lips, watching him as my mouth forms around his tip. He groans loudly, his knees dipping as he scrapes my hair from my neck and pulls it into one hand, winding the soft strands around his fist.
It’s a power play, and I want it. I want him and his threat to control me, but only here. He can control every part of my pleasure—of his. But nothing else.
He lifts my chin. “Keep your eyes on me,” he manages, voice gruff.
He starts to thrust his hips, hitting the back of my throat on every stroke, slowly getting deeper and deeper.
I smile around him, making his eyes darken. He shakes his head before looking away from me. “Baby, don’t give me that smile.”
“Mmmmm,” I murmur, his cock lodged in my throat, causing my voice to vibrate around him.
“Fuck,” he snaps. The hold on my hair intensifies as he winds it even tighter, his hips thrusting even faster, harder, unapologetically. His eyes find mine again, and realisation flashes across his face as I struggle to take him. I may be the one on my knees, with his hold on my hair, but he isn’t in control either. It’s been lost in the moment, a free-for-all as he fights my reflexes for release.
Forcing myself back, I drop to the floor, knowing he will follow, and he does. He doesn’t hesitate, lining himself up and thrusting inside me.
“Dripping. Fucking. Wet,” he rasps.
He starts to roll his hips into me, lifting my leg over his forearm to get to the perfect spot. “Mase! You feel so good,” I moan.
His eyes find mine, softening instantly, then his lips drop to mine, and he takes my mouth in a beautiful, slow kiss.
My leg falls to the side and he stills inside me, his arm still draped under my bent leg. His hand comes around and grasps my wrist in a stronghold. Our breathing is erratic, the only other noise between our deep, sucking kisses.
My body aches to have him, wanting more and less, and for this feeling never to end. “Mase, move. Please,” I beg, clenching around him.
A growl rumbles through his chest as he brings my arms up and around his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to keep him close. He gives me exactly what I want, rolling his hips perfectly until my body locks tight and pressure builds at my core. And he knows it. His hand comes down, planting itself over my clit, tipping me over the edge and letting me free fall.
The primal need that comes over me has me focusing on nothing but the rising, inexplicable wave that’s coursing through my body. I feel nothing and everything all at once as my walls squeeze and relax in unison, my sex sucking him in deeper with its hungry release.
He stands, still buried deep inside me, my body wrapped around him. He sits down on the sofa, my body straddling his. “Fuck me, Pixie,” he whispers.
The position has me sinking farther onto him, aftershocks still rippling through my core. “I can feel you, baby,” he groans, his mouth sucking at my throat.
I begin to roll my hips. Hard. Deep. A small circle.
His head comes up and he looks at me, his hair a dishevelled mess. “I might just keep you. Don’t fucking stop,” he says, planting a chaste kiss on my lips.
Using all the energy I have left, I ride him, working my hips under his hold to get him to the point of ecstasy. He comes inside of me, groaning out my name as his mouth falls from my puckered nipple.
His body shakes as his face nuzzles into my chest.
I go to speak, but nothing comes out. Reaching up instead, I run my hand through his smooth hair. My eyes catch a gold glint behind his head. I pull my wrist forward, looking over the gold band that now adorns my wrist.
“I’ll send everything else back,” he says, looking up at me with hesitant eyes. “But keep that. Please.”
“I could get used to those manners, Bossman.” I smile, giving him a long, lazy kiss.
* * *
We lieon the cushioned floor wrapped in a soft woollen blanket, my body curled into Mason’s side. My body feels lax, but there’s still an ache pulsing through my entire body, reminding me of the incredible night we’re leaving behind.
I lift my head from Mason’s chest, stealing a piece of cheese from the platter he’d made earlier. “How long did you spend getting all this ready today?” I ask, gesturing around the room.
