“We might need to go out afterwards to replenish condom stocks,” Mason tells me when he returns to find me in the exact same position he left me in.
“Okay,” I say for no reason beyond knowing that I should say something and that seems the most acceptable response.
“So,” he muses as his body grazes my hips, thighs and behind. “Do you still need me, baby?” He drags a finger through my sopping sex.
I moan my confirmation.
“You want it slow and gentle?” His whole hand seems to cup me before his thumb skewers me making my legs stiffen but my stance widen. “Like this?” he asks, slowly pumping his thumb in and out of me.
I like the sensations of his movements but that alone is never going to satisfy me, even with his dirty talk which I have never been into before. In fact, I always thought it was a bit pathetic from a lover, but now? Well, I love it, the crudity of the language and the effect it has on my body. The language I have always detested when directed at me in the past.
“Or fast and hard?” he offers, changing the pace of his thrusting thumb, immediately making me clench around him and then I recognise the movement of my own hips that are moving in time with Mase, essentially meaning that I am riding his hand, again.
“Fast and hard,” I pant. “Please, oh God, yes like that,” I mumble as I feel the first tremors of climax coursing through me.
“You really are a little nymph, aren’t you?” he asks with good humour in his tone and then withdraws his touch from me.
“No, no, don’t stop,” I protest, and his initial response is to laugh at me.
“Sorry, baby. Were you nearly there? Ready to come?”
I assume he already knows the answer but is expecting a verbal response from me. “Yes.” I pout and am shocked at myself when I raise my behind a little as an offering to him, as if he needed any further suggestion that I am ripe for the picking.
“Well, maybe we can do it together,” he suggests, spreading me, opening me up for him and then in a single thrust he is buried inside me.
“Fuck!” I curse out between clenched teeth as the sweet burn of him stretching my sensitive skin brings my whole body to life.
“You like that?” He begins to thrust in earnest.
“Yes, a lot, it feels so good,” I tell him, clenching my fists until my nails are painfully biting into my soft palms. “I can feel you, well everywhere,” I explain inarticulately.
“I like you feeling me so deeply, brushing against all of those places inside you that make you feel so good,” Mase coos, gripping my hips more firmly. “You feel so fucking amazing, the way you squeeze me, so tight and when I watch my dick disappearing inside you, I almost lose my mind.” He groans and I am sure I feel him swelling a little more inside me.
“Mase, I’m going to come.” I want him to do it with me, together like he said.
“Yes, you are. I’m going to make you come, with me. Come on Livy, come now while I fuck you.” He grunts and with a final sharp thrust I am coming loud and hard, unsure who takes the other one with them or who slows first, only coming down to earth, or at least my kitchen table once Mase’s front is blanketing my back. “I honestly had no intention of doing that,” he whispers in kisses against my shoulder. “I really was planning coffee and breakfast when I came in here.”
“Well, it was better than cereal or toast,” I reply with an amused edge to my voice.
“Yeah, well you need to stock up on a better choice of breakfast items or we’ll both be missing the most important meal of the day regularly,” he jokes, I think.
“That really isn’t a threat if I am going to feel like this.” I stifle a yawn.
“Come on, let’s go back to bed for an hour, then shower, get dirty, then shower again, then condom shopping.”
“You really know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you?” I ask at the same time Mase stands up to remove the condom.
“And you really know how to get yourself fucked, don’t you?” he asks with a deep and rich laugh and as much as I know it’s a joke, banter, it immediately throws me back to a time when I was accused of the same thing with no humour or care, no tenderness, just bitterness, accusation and blame.
“I really need to grab a shower.” I move quickly, standing stiffly and without waiting for any further comment I stride naked to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. He can’t see me like this. I can’t expose him to this side of me, not now, not ever, because if I do, he will leave me like any decent person would.
Chapter 15
Mason
I am confused to say the least as I watch Oliva walk away. I have no idea what the fuck just happened and why she has purposefully strode to the bathroom and locked herself in, or me out, possibly both. The latter would make me feel slightly better if it means she just needs some space.
I go over everything we said and there is nothing that could have been offensive to her, plus, when I offend her she asks me who the fuck I think I am, or tells me that I have no right, that I am an arse or punches me. She doesn’t run away, not until after she’s torn a strip off me so there must be more to this than I know, for now. I really would like to march after her, to demand answers, but I fight the instinct and leave her, well, kind of.
