My little dove.
My Queen.
Mine.
43
EVA
I thinkI broke my boyfriend.
Half asleep, my eyes open to Mason fucking me again, or still, I don’t know. I just know I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want to ever leave this room.
Though it seems he did, as he has a new shirt on, and his jeans are crumpled at the foot of the bed.
I moan, stretching, lying on my side, as he watches his cock work my pussy from behind, in a slow, deep rhythm. “When you said you were never leaving me, I didn’t think you meant literally.”
“I can’t help it, little dove,” he groans. “I need to be inside you to fucking breathe.” Mason grunts and kisses the side of my forehead, then pecks down my arm, from shoulder to fingertips. “Is this what you had in mind when you wanted me to fuck you awake?”
Nodding and moaning, I palm his face and drag his lips to mine. He kisses me softly as he comes inside me. I wince when he pulls out of me, sore from last night. But the ache between my legs is the only way I know I didn’t dream it.
Mason pulls me onto his chest. My hand lands on his heart,pulsing hard. For long minutes, I lie here, just breathing him in. It’s strange seeing him without a cigarette between his fingers, or having the smell camouflaging his clean scent. I can’t believe he gave up smoking for something I said, half-joking. But then again, this is Mason.
If I asked for a grape, he’d get me a whole vineyard.
My life has been crushed, torn apart, and hollowed out over the last few months. Without Mason, I would not have survived any of it. That’s why his deception hurt me so hard. What I heard at the beach house that day. That obsession, the senseless sense of possession that ended with a bullet in my father—it was awfully, horrifically familiar.
And I was too lost in grief to see the difference, to even allow myself to feel what I knew all along.
Those few hours, when I lost Mason, it dawned on me how wrong I was. Mason may have taken away my choices, but only the ones I was too scared to make, and to keep me safe. He may have broken down my walls, but only because he knew I was drowning in the dark, alone. He may be obsessed enough to break bones or worse, but he never hurt my friend, despite my worst fears. I’m under no illusion that my boyfriend remains a possessive inferno who will continue to test my patience with his compulsive need to own me, but he will also sacrifice everything he held sacred before I cursed his life.
“What is your brain overthinking now?” Mason asks, coiling a strand of my hair around his index finger.
“Wondering what was so important that you left the room this morning.” I lift my head and prop my chin on my hand, braced against his chest.
“I went to see Ma before they left.”
“Your parents left? Why didn’t you wake me? I didn’t even get to thank them properly yesterday,” I say, then glance at the floor where the shreds of my dress lie in tatters. “Though, what would I wear?”
His lips curl up on one side, and my heart melts. I forget how heartbreakingly hot my boyfriend is. Utterly consumed in Mason, it takes me a while to clock in my surroundings, including the other tempting scent in the room.
“What smells so good?” I sniff.
“Good to know your sensory neurons are still intact.” He smirks and looks over to his side of the bed, where there is a trolley full of breakfast pastries.
“You ordered room service?” I shoot up. “At The Ritz? Are you crazy?”
“You’re a strange kind of billionaire. You fly helicopters but can’t afford room service?” He laughs. I roll my eyes.
He pulls me closer, tucking me under his arm, then grabs a massive silver platter and dumps it next to me.
“You are going to clear the whole platter, or I’ll shove it down your throat, understood?” he threatens, then smiles when he sees that I already have chocolate smeared between my fingers and a mouthful of pain au chocolate. Apparently, his relentless fucking all night was the trigger my body needed to remember what hunger feels like.
I hate that I’ve worried him. Stroking his cheek with the back of my messy hand, I nod. He flashes a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes, making them shine in my favorite shade of brown, then kisses the corner of my mouth, licking some chocolate off my lip.
“I can’t possibly eat all of this.” I wave at the mountain of pastries beside me. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Starving,” he says, then before I have a chance to blink, he jumps in front of me and pulls my legs apart.
