Still chuckling, he leans in and nuzzles against my cheek, coaxing me to look at him. “Hey. I’m just teasing. Honestly? I think it’s hot that you own a dildo.”
I frown, still flustered. “No, it’s pathetic.”
“It’s not,” he says firmly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
Despite my best efforts, he finally peels my arm away from my face. I stare at him, cheeks burning.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, rubbing my thigh with slow, reassuring circles. “I wasn’t making fun of you. Seriously, it’s sexy as hell.”
“Sexy?” I echo, disbelieving.
“Yeah. On the outside, you’re this awkward little nerd, but it turns out you own a nine inch dildo. It’s really fucking hot,” he says, voice low and gravelly.
I let out a mortified whine, which only makes him grin. He grabs my hand and brings it to his crotch, letting me feel how hard he is through his tented sweatpants.
“Feel that?” he murmurs. “See what you do to me, Hunter?”
Well, that makes one of us. My cock has gone completely soft with embarrassment, but he just looks down at it like it’s a challenge, not a problem.
“Let me take care of this,” he murmurs.
He kisses along my neck, nibbling and licking, while his hand wraps around me. It doesn’t take long for me to start hardening again, not with the way he’s touching me like he can’t get enough of me. He strokes my shaft, slow and steady, while his other hand massages my balls. I gasp when his fingers slip lower, teasing my hole with a feathery touch.
My whole body trembles.
“You still want me to fuck you?” he asks hesitantly.
I nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”
He kisses my knee, then gently lifts my legs, folding them so my feet rest flat on the bed. His eyes drag down my body, slow and intense.
“Such a pretty hole,” he muses.
My cock twitches at the words.
He squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and rubs it on my rim, making me squirm. Then he pushes one finger inside—slow and smooth. His eyes stay glued on mine, watching for any signs of discomfort.
He pumps it in and out until my body relaxes, the initial discomfort melting away. I sink further into the mattress and try to give into the stretch. I’d nearly forgotten the feeling of being opened by someone else. He adds a second finger, scissoring them as he works me open.
I moan, biting down on my knuckles.
Mason lets out a grunt of disapproval. “No. Let me hear you, babyface.”
The nickname punches the air out of my lungs. I gasp and rock down against his fingers, taking them deeper. He curls his fingers to find my prostate, stroking that bundle of nerves that lights a fire in me. My back arches off the bed.
“Oh, God, Mase,” I groan.
He hums and adds a third finger, wiggling them in deeper. He starts fucking me with them in fast and filthy rhythm, until the slick sounds of lube squelching fills the room. I tremble, wrecked with need.
“Please,” I whimper. “Fuck me. I’m ready.”
He kisses my inner thigh and pulls out his fingers. He disconnects his pump before peeling off his sweatpants and boxers in one fluid motion. His cock is thick, flushed, and already leaking in his fist. He rips open a condom packet and rolls it on, leaving just enough slack at the tip. Even with all the prep, I wonder how the hell he’s going to fit.
He flips me onto my stomach, and I arch my back, pushing my ass into the air. He runs his palm over my cheeks, fingers slipping along the curve.
He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re just full of surprises, Hunter.”
I glance over my shoulder, confused. “What?”
