I pull back to frantically grab his hand and lead him through my apartment, making a beeline for my bedroom.
This place feels infinitely moremethan my room in Claremont Shores ever did. Potted plants clutter every shelf, windowsill, and countertop—cascading ivy, succulents, and a small avocado tree in the corner that stubbornly refuses to fruit. Books are stacked in uneven towers on my desk, and a thrifted lamp glows warm in the corner, painting everything in amber light.
The ivory walls are decorated with framed botanical photographs, prints from local artists, and pinned insects. From the top floor, wide windows frame the dazzling city below, a sliver of Lake Michigan shimmering through the skyline.
My hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt as I back him toward the bed. His shirt falls away under my touch, my palms roaming over the solid lines of his shoulders, his biceps flexing beneath my fingers. His muscles glisten with sweat in the lamplight. He looks down at me with flaming intensity, pupils blown wide with desire.
He unclips his pump and sets it aside before pulling down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. His cock stands proudly against his abs, thick and veiny. My mouth goes dry as I watch his hand lazily stroking his dick, his fingers barely able to wrap around the girth.
He undresses me in a rush—hands flying, clothes scattering across the floor—until I’m left in nothing but my underwear. His gaze drags over me in a slow sweep, and he exhales a soft, gratified breath.
Guiding me back onto the bed, he crawls over me, his body heat radiating against me like a furnace. His lips trail down my throat, kissing and sucking marks. A whimper slips out of me when he nibbles on my collarbone.
His fingers trace up my stomach until they land on my nipples. He pinches and tugs at them, making them pebble and turn red. My nerves buzz with excitement.
“I missed this so much,” Mason groans against my skin before biting down on my shoulder.
“Me too,” I gasp, breathless. “Put your fingers in me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the lube from my nightstand and tugs my underwear down, freeing my aching cock. He spreads my legs wide, kneeling between them, and slicks his pointer finger generously. The cold lube makes me shiver when he presses it to my entrance, circling and teasing.
“Please,” I beg through clenched teeth. “Need you.”
With a satisfied groan, he pushes his finger inside until it’s buried to the knuckle. A strangled noise of pleasure slips past my lips. He pumps his finger in and out, dragging moans from my throat. The steady pressure blazes through me, making my back arch off the bed.
Another finger slowly works inside, stretching me wide. He spreads them apart and curls them, rubbing over my prostate. My eyes squeeze shut as I grind down against his hand.
His head dips lower, taking my cock into his mouth. He sucks me off as he stretches me open, fucking me with his fingers. I squirm with overstimulation as his tongue strokes along my length, suckling at the tip.
“Mase,” I rasp out. “Please, fuck me already.”
He pulls his mouth off me and smirks. “Desperate for it, aren’t you?”
My face burns with heat. “I probably won’t last long. I haven’t… gotten off in a while.”
He bites his lip. “I haven’t, either,” he admits quietly. “Not since… the last time we were together.”
I freeze. “Wait, really? At the cabin?”
“Yeah.”
My heart throbs. “Oh. Me too.”
He pulls out his fingers and tears off a condom from the strip. He slides the disc over his cock and coats it with more lube. Thenhe grabs my thighs, hauling me onto my hands and knees. He kneels behind me and presses the blunt head of his dick against my hole.
He pushes inside, slow and careful, my body trembling with relief. God, I missed this. His fingers dig into my hips as he bottoms out.
“You okay, baby?” he asks, his own voice strained.
I nod shakily. “Yeah. C’mon, fuck me.”
He obeys, pulling out and pushing back in, deeper this time. He sets a steady rhythm with his thrusts, hips slamming against my ass. Jolts of pleasure surge through me as he nudges my prostate with each stroke.
His thrusts speed up, the bedframe croaking beneath us as he looms over my back, mouthing at my shoulder. I can barely hold myself up, my elbows wobbling. I push back against him, meeting him halfway.
“You feel so fucking good,” Mason says, voice rough with need. “I love you so much.”
Tears sting in my eyes, and I can’t tell if they’re from the relentless pleasure or the weight of his words. “I—” I gasp as he hits my prostate dead-on, making me clench down around his cock. “God, I love you too.”
