“We really, really need to find an empty space very soon.” His whispers cause me to shudder with anticipation of what will happen when we finally get to be alone.
I look over my shoulder to glance at Mason’s handsomely rugged features only to find him looking down at me with fire in his eyes, warming me to the point that I’m sure I must be sweating. I am waiting for him to drag me away in desperation when the music begins for the first dance. Mase laughs against my ear causing something to coil in my stomach and my sex to clench with a heavy dose of arousal.
“Really? Their first dance is Turn Me On by Kevin Lyttle?” he asks disbelievingly and amused.
“You bet.” Everyone around us laughs or looks on with confusion. “I talked Sarah out of Sweat which I wasfortunateenough to witness them virtually shagging to on the dance floor the night they met.”
Mason laughs at my shuddering memory before singing against my ear some lyrics from Sweat.
“Stop!” I cry, laughing before he changes tack and switches to the song playing. Laughing, I gently smack one of the arms around me. “Don’t give up the day job, babe,” I tell him and immediately find myself dragged off towards the door. “Mason!” I chasten in warning.
“I told you if you called me babe again, and you did.” He’s almost running down a hallway, dragging me behind him.
“Where’s our room?” I ask with any thoughts of heading straight back to my best friend’s wedding reception forgotten.
“Too far.”
We come to an abrupt stop as Mase opens the door to an unlocked linen cupboard. He drags me in behind him and barricades it with a trolley from the inside.
“What now?” I stare across at my boyfriend’s dark, nefarious expression from where he stands with his back against the wall.
“I would really like to spend the next three or four hours touching and teasing you, before spending another couple of hours tasting you, but a linen cupboard at a wedding reception is not the place for that.”
“So?” There’s a clear hitch to my voice as I imagine having the place and the time for Mase to do the things he’s suggesting.
“So…it can wait until later, but for now it will be fast and hard, baby. Take your pants off.”
I can barely breathe when he talks dirty at the best of the times and whilst his current words aren’t exactly dirty, they are blunt, direct and sexual so my ability to breathe is seriously compromised. Add to that the fact that I am as desperate as he is for us to be together, the moisture leaking from between my thighs along with the realisation that if I could never spend a night away from him again I wouldn’t, being testament to that.
“No.” Mase stares across at me with amusement and confusion on his face. “I can’t,” I add, recognising that my words aren’t actually clarifying my meaning.
“Please tell me that your annual period has not chosen this weekend to land?” Mason’s expression is begging me to say no.
I laugh at his face and the memory of him asking me after we’d been seeing each other for about six weeks if I was infertile or pregnant. I’d laughed then too, before I explained that I was neither to the best of my knowledge, but that my contraceptive injection had all but stopped my periods, with one arriving about once a year, usually with no warning or announcement.
“Stop laughing at me,” he tells me gruffly before stepping towards me, stalking more than stepping. “And tell me why you’re not removing underwear.” I stifle a further laugh as he asks, “Is it the dress? Is it too tight because you can lose the dress completely for me, Livy?”
“No, not the dress, although, it kind of is.” I begin to slide the skirt of my dress up my legs revealing sheer stay up stockings and then I stop at my thighs, my hands full of satin. “I can’t remove my pants. This dress is quite tight and so…” I grin as I tease the fabric a little higher and then pause again, “So unfortunately, I had to go, erm, commando.” There’s a slight flush to my face as I reveal my nakedness to him.
“Oh, fucking hell! You really need to keep your pants on if you ever want me to let you out alone.” He crushes me against the cupboard door. “You know I said fast and hard, well I may need to revise that to, fast, hard and right now.” He’s already undoing his trousers and pushing them down to rest beneath his erect penis and heavy looking testicles.
“Mase,” I whisper as he lifts me up, holding my waist firmly and then he lowers me so that I take him inside me quickly, inch by delicious inch that has me whining and arching into him. “Oh God,” I cry as he begins to move against and inside me driving me towards an orgasm already. “I’m going to come really soon.” I sound as though I’m warning him of some impending doom.
“Do it with me baby, together, yeah?”
“I don’t know if I can wait, I’m really close.” I whimper as he adjusts the position of my leg allowing him a deeper position within me. “And closer still!”
“Squeeze me, Livy, squeeze me until I am coming inside you, baby.” His words alone send my internal muscles into overdrive, spasm after spasm pushing us both closer. “That’s it, like that. God, you feel like my own slice of heaven, so tight and wet,” he croons against my ear and those words have my arousal gushing from me, coating him further, facilitating his increasingly rapid and hard thrusts.
“Kiss me, please?” I ask in ragged pants. My need for his kiss is partly because I just love his lips on me but also, maybe moreover because there is no way I can be quiet when I come, and this is going to be intense. “Kiss me while I come.”
He doesn’t reply with words, he simply crashes his lips against mine, his tongue stroking against my own until I am shaking and screaming cries that he absorbs in his mouth, an action I reciprocate as his own feral groan indicates his own release shooting inside me. We remain that way, joined with only the sound of our laboured breathing breaking the silence.
“I think I might like weddings now.” Mase laughs as he eases out of me referring to his claim from a few weeks ago when I invited him to be my plus one that he didn’t really like weddings.
“Me too.”
“Maybe we could become professional wedding guests,” he suggests making me giggle as I adjust my clothing. “I suppose we should get back,” he adds with a sigh of reluctance that makes me smile and maybe even love him a little more, if that’s possible.
