The squeezing sensation was throughout her entire body. Every inch of her skin was dewed.
She hadn’t expected him to kiss her. In fact, she would’ve put down ten-to-one odds he’d choose to come clean about why he was so adamant he would never marry or have a family.
She wasn’t accustomed to being wrong. But she couldn’t honestly say she was upset at having been wrong about this. Maybe she would be later. Maybe after he left her and she was forced to stop her pursuit of him, she’d wish he’d explained himself instead.
Right now, though? All she could think about was the here. The now. And the low, hungry animal noise that sounded at the back of his throat.
“Mason,” she groaned when he let her up for air. “Please.”
She wasn’t sure what she begged for. Or maybe shewas. Maybe she begged him not to stop. Never to stop.
It felt so good. Too good. She wanted to get away and get closer at the same time. She wanted blessed relief and for the delicious ache to last forever.
God, he smelled right. Felt right.Tastedright. It was a thing her body had known long before her head caught up.
“Alex.” Her name was a growl. “You taste so fucking good.”
As if to prove his point, his lips skimmed her jaw and then latched onto her earlobe. His mouth was hot. His tongue was wet. When he sucked on her lobe, she would swear she felt the sensation much lower in her body.
Then his lips were on her throat, covering her pulse point.
Could he feel her heart racing? Could he sense the heat of her blood?
Her response was unintelligible, even to her own ears. Her words simply syllables of sensation. Syllables of need.
“Alex,” he said again, shoving her robe down over one shoulder so his mouth could continue its journey south.
“Mason,” she moaned again. Her voice dazed and dreamy. Not her own at all. “Please.”
This time she knew what she begged for. She begged for help with the sharp ache between her legs. She begged for the kind of pleasure she’d only ever dreamed of.
Maybe it was his vast experience, or maybe it was the way she writhed against him, her hips thrusting, seeking the smallest amount of friction, but whatever the reason, he knew. He knew what she needed and he obliged, the magnificent,marvelousman.
Nudging her knees apart, he found the slit in her robe and pressed his thigh high and tight against the junction of her legs.
She gasped at first contact. The material of his swim trunks wasn’t as rough as she would’ve liked. But she was so worked up, she knew it would do the trick.
Pulling his mouth back to hers, she welcomed the silky, hot glide of his tongue and reveled when he groaned, low and deep. One of his hands splayed wide over her hip, assisting her in her subtle but desperate thrusts against his leg.
She ground hard, the material of his trunks growing wet with her desire. Then the material pushed up and it was nothing but skin on skin. Hers was swollen and slick. His was hot and hairy. Andthis!This was the kind of friction she needed.
Just like that, she was close. She could feel it in her toes. Taste it on the tip of her tongue. That tingling, sparkling precursor to release.
“Fuck me, you’re wet,” he growled against her lips. “And hot.” His accent made the last word sound likehawt.
She could no longer speak. She’d been reduced to little mewling sounds as her body wound tighter and tighter. Higher and higher. As she squeezed her eyes shut and gave herself up to that singular sort of pleasure she’d only ever experienced alone.
This was so much better. Because she was sharing it with someone she cared about. Someone who knew how to kiss her. Knew how to touch her. Knew just what she needed.
She felt the instant he bared her right breast. The cool air in the room made her nipple furl so tightly, she hissed at the pleasure-pain of it.
“You’re beautiful, Alexandra.” There was reverence in his voice.
Without warning, he bent and sucked her nipple into the heated haven that was his mouth.
That was all it took.
A nuclear bomb went off inside her. She contracted. She expanded. She burned red hot and yet goose bumps erupted over her skin.
