“There you are. Took long enough.” Mason pulls his finger free, but before I can protest, the wooden massager returns, and this time, there’s nothing slow or exploratory about it.
“Oh, Jesus.” I throw my head back, and I’d probably kick him away entirely, except while he melts every inch he can reach inside me with the toy, his free hand is clasped firmly around my ankle, and when I squirm more, he growls before dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin at the arch of my foot. Every attempt to escape drives the toy deeper inside me, and I make heavy wordless noises that try to describe the pleasure I’m feeling and always seem to come short as he explores further.
“That’s it,” he says. “You’ve got it now.”
“Mason. Mason, please.” My hands are cramping because I have a grip on the covers.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Wanna come.” I pant.
“What?”
I go to glare at him and instead get sidetracked by the rise and fall of his shoulders and chest. We’re breathing the same way. So close. We’re so connected like this, even though the only thing to join us is a few inches of wood.
“I want you to make me come,” I say on shaky breaths.
He bends the massager, angling it up, and it’s almost like it grows an inch or two, because it hits my prostate and my taint at the same time and—
I think I have an out-of-body experience. One minute, a scream is building in my chest and an orgasm in my balls, and then I’m floating on a white-hot cloud as my muscles clench and release, come striping my stomach, then more, because when I open my eyes, Mason is kneeling over me, cock out as he jerks it and grunts as he comes, hips thrusting erratically.
The room goes quiet. I’m not sure I know how to make my limbs work. Mason sags back on his heels. Far away a dog barks, and I think I should go check on Athena, but I can’t, because Mason is spreading his large body next to mine and pulling me against him, holding me close, and all I can do is cuddle in.
“You’re so perfect. The face you make when you come. Perfect.” He smooths my hair over my forehead, and I snuggle into his warmth, trying to hold on to the kernel of joy that nestles in my chest at his words.
It was never like this with Gavin. He never held me. We’d fuck and he’d call me names and I thought that was what I was supposed to want. And when it was done, he’d go clean up and I’d crawl into bed, naked and shaking, waiting for him to join me, but when he did, it was never like this.
And somehow, over the years, I told myself that was okay. That it’s how our relationship worked.
“You okay?” Mason says.
I’m crying. I don’t even remember starting, but my cheek is pressed up against his pec and I’m crying softly, leaking tears into his furry chest hair.
“Fine.” I sit up, wiping my face quickly. “I have to go.”
“Go?”
“Athena’s at Vann’s. I can’t leave her there. What if she—”
“Charlie? Are you really okay?”
He’ll punish me for lying, but it would be better than the soft kindness of being cradled in his arms and wrapped in his blankets. As much as I want his touch, I can’t answer the questions it brings up.
He must see the war that’s raging in my head and my heart, because he nods. “You want to shower?”
“No. I’ll just…” I gesture over my stomach. “Which way is the bathroom?”
Mason points across the hall, and I excuse myself. I’m too messy to even get my briefs back on, so I dart naked into the bathroom and close the door.
12
Mason
I wouldn’t sayCharlie exactly bolts, but he certainly doesn’t stick around. As soon as he’s dressed, he’s making his excuses.
“I’m sorry. I promised Vann I wouldn’t be long. I’m sorry. I’ll call you.”
I follow him outside. No doubt it looks like I’m chasing him. In fact, Dante has a habit of chasing visiting cars up the driveway.
