He glances up, dark brows scrunched together.
“You need something?”
“I...” I have to clear my throat as I struggle for words. I don’t know what I want. For him to fuck me? To keep doing what he’s doing? I want to come, but if I do, does that mean this is over and I have to go back to my life?
But when none of these things come out of my mouth, Mason goes right back to what he was doing, licking and pressing into me until I’m shaking with the need to come and no way to get there.
“Mason.” I gasp and whine as he swirls his tongue along the oversensitive muscles of my rim.
“Charlie.”
“The toy. Please. I need it.”
“Which one?”
I roll my head, trying to find where I placed them on the dresser. I don’t know which one he’ll like.
“You’re thinking again. I don’t want you to think.” Mason slides off the bed. His boxer briefs cling to his ass and thighs, and while I’m sorry to see him go, I’m notthatsorry, given the view. His size hides the dresser from me. A drawer opens and closes, and when he comes back, the top of the dresser is clear and he’s got one hand behind his back.
“What do you have?” I ask.
“You’ll see. Now lift your legs up again.”
I quiver, trying to twist my head so I can see him as he settles at my ass again, but he gives me a pointed look, and I stare up at the ceiling, waiting. Nothing bad is going to happen. But now that I’ve thought about it, I’m imagining the dildo. The pop as each knob slides past my hole. The tug as he pulls them back out again.
I’m so wrapped up in it I don’t even hear the click of the cap on the lube bottle, so I’m completely taken by surprise when a cold smear hits my ass.
“Jesus.”
“Just me,” Mason says, then something hard and finger-shaped presses against my entrance. I tense, waiting for the intrusion, but all he does is tease my opening until I finally grunt in frustration.
That’s when he slides the toy in.
It’s not the dildo, it’s the other one. The pressure as he works it inside me is intense, and I arch my neck.
“Yeah,” Mason says. “Yeah, you wanted this.”
I did. I’m going to have to thank Vann, because as the base of the massager hits my taint, stroking the sensitive skin there, the head hits my prostate and—
“Holy shit.” I buck, which just drives the damn thing even tighter against the gland. “Oh God. Mason. Oh God.”
“Shh.” He’s got one hand on my stomach. “Feel good?”
“Uh-huh.” I’m panting, and once again my dick is painfully hard and neither of us is even touching it. But before I can flex and grind down against the toy, Mason pulls it free, leaving me empty. I whine. “No.”
“Shh.” He kisses the sole of my foot. “Who’s in charge here?”
My hole flexes, and I’m shaking, waiting for him to start again. “You are.”
He circles my entrance. “Then trust me to take care of you.”
For a moment, our eyes meet. He’s leaning over me, one of my thighs braced against his chest and shoulder. His face is flushed, lips parted, like he’s the one turned on by this attention.
Trust me to take care of you.
Gavin didn’t take care of me. We might have been partners. Lovers. But it was never equal, and I let it be that way.
“Hey,” Mason says. He grabs hold of my cock, stroking it a few times before he lets it bounce off my stomach. “None of that.”
