“So, you want this.” I gesture between us. “You want…me?”
He scoots over on the couch so we’re only a few inches apart.
“Violet, I want you. I know I’ve said this before and fucked it all up, but it’s always been true. I am only now mature enough to actually act on it.”
I feel simultaneously elated and miserable because I know that's true. I've always known, deep down, that Chicago was just a blimp in our eternal timeline. That Mason was growing, though perhaps more slowly than I was, and if I waited, he would catch up. But it felt good to be mad, to harden myself against yet another person making me feel like I wasn't good enough. But it was years of anger wasted. And I want to be happy. I deserve it dammit.
Mason continues, “I’ve wanted you for a very long time. And if you want me, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, even when you didn’t want me to be, even when you tried to forget me.”
With his words, I swear I feel my heart slowly piece itself back together. It wasn’t perfectly healed, and maybe it never would be, but it would be safe in his hands. That I knew for certain. I take his hand and place it on my chest. “You have my heart. Always.”
“Always.” The words from his mouth are a promise.
“Then act on it already.”
Mason grabs my face and kisses me so hard I see stars.
thirty-one
. . .
Violet
The temperatureof the room shifts immediately as our lips connect. I run my fingers through Mason’s hair tugging him even closer to me as we slide down the couch. He’s on top of me, clawing at my sweater trying to find an opening at the hem. My heart flutters at his needy touch, a man deprived for far too long and finally able to satiate the hunger. This isn’t general hunger either. Mason is hungry for me, and only me and my heart knows it. It’s the hottest thing ever.
I let out a small whimper as Mason breaks the kiss and moves to leave a trail of kisses down my neck, nipping against my skin as he makes his descent.
“Fuck Violet.” He runs out of skin at the neckline of my sweater. He moves to take it off, and I flinch a little when the material catches at my wrist.
“Shit your wrist. Your head! Are you okay?Maybe?—”
I put my finger to his mouth to stop any suggestion we stop. “I’m fine. Here.” I shift out from under him and move to straddle his hips. I carefully strip my sweater off. “Better. Now, I’ve had enough of the tiptoeing. Take that hoodie off so I can finally see that tattoo that's been tempting me for weeks.”
The hoodie is flung across the room, and I can’t stop myself from soaking him in. I start by pressing a soft kiss to the shoulder covered in beautiful shades of gray and black ink. I trace over the artwork with my fingers, sending a shiver down his body. A satisfied hum fills me, as does the desire to draw that out from him again. I move my hand toward his waistband.
My eyes trail down his body to where my hands are teasing the skin over his jeans. As I start to unbutton his jeans Mason reaches around and unhooks my bra. He trails his hand up and down my back as the straps fall off my shoulders. I’m covered in goosebumps from his soft touches and my nipples are painfully hard.
“Are you cold?” he asks, eyes fixating on my breasts.
I shake my head, holding my breath, as he licks his lips and looks up at me. He maintains eye contact while breathing on my sensitive nipples. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Angel.” My entire body goes limp as he calls me the same nickname he did so many years ago.
Mason brings one of his large hands up my stomach and grips my right breast tightly into his palm, the rough calluses of his hand feeling heavenly. He pinches my nipples gently and I can’t stop myself from arching my back and grinding on top of him.
”That’s right, Angel. Move those hips against me like you’re taking my cock.” I oblige and that seems to be his undoing as he finally moves his mouth on top of my neglected breast.
A groan leaves his mouth, and I grip his hair forcing his face even closer to me as his tongue darts out to draw light, teasing circles around my nipple. The slight scruffiness of his beard scratches me, and the light teasing followed by hard scratching iseuphoric. I was never really into guys with beards, but the moment I saw Mason with one, everything shifted.
“Have I told you how much I love this beard?” I move my finger to trace his chin, followed by his lips, before placing another scorching kiss on them.
Mason responds by teasing my slit with the tip of his finger, which I immediately slide down on. With his finger inside me fully, I set my own pace and ride his hand. Mason matches my pace, and the mix of hunger and pride in his eyes tells me how much he appreciates my new-found confidence, in stark contrast to the insecure Violet he had back in Chicago.
“That feels…so good.” I can’t believe how close I am to coming fully undone and we have barely even started.
My eyes shut, and I hear him tsk. “Eyes on me, Angel.” He waits until I lock my eyes, and when I do, he rewards me by adding in another finger. “So fucking responsive.”
“Mason.” His name comes out of my lips a mixture of a command and a plea.
He lets out a moan, slowly pulling his hand out of my wet core and sliding me completely off him, much to my dismay. I watch him slowly slide his jeans off to reveal his boxer briefs. My mouth waters at the faint outline of his cock.
