“What do you think you’re doing?”
He eyeballed her narrow queen-sized bed. “You need a bigger bed.”
“It’s plenty big,” she argued. Always arguing!
“For you. But you have a mate now. A big one.”
Her growl of irritation—mixed with the scent of her sudden surge of desire—made his dick harder than he could ever remember it being. She really was quite a specimen! He smiled and stepped up close to her, gathering her in his arms. Her eyes grew wide when he pressed his cock against her hip and her breathing grew shallow.
Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. “If I leave, will you come with me?”
She shuddered. “No,” she breathed.
“And that’s why I’m staying here tonight. You’re my mate, and you might find this hard to believe, but I can’t bear to be apart from you.”
She pulled back and stared up at him, her breath coming in hot, short bursts. Her growing need swirled and mixed with his own. She was utterly perfect. Utterly his.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucy swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. She couldn’t bear to be apart from him either. Not when she felt his desire like a hot brand against her hip. Not when the musky scent of his desire teased her nose.
Coarse, callused fingers brushed her skin as he nimbly unfasted one button after another. The balsam and clove and pure sex smell of him embraced her in a deliciously wicked hug. His warmth sank into her, heating her from outside in, fanning the flames of her own arousal. It made her ache and her pussy throb, her body desperate for his touch.
It was almost more than she could bear. To have a man this gorgeous—this masculine, attentive, and powerful—drinking her in like she was the sweetest dessert… It made her want all the more.
She’d been with men in the past—boyfriends who’d claimed to love her and the odd one-night stand—but she’d never felt like this. None of them touched her—looked at her—as if they craved her more than air in their lungs. Or looked at her like she was so precious she should be worshiped and admired.
It felt so good and yet was so very, very bad. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into his trap. Whatever Mason said about mates, she couldn’t get used to this feeling of being desired, craved. Like she was something to be savored and cherished. As if she had value beyond measure.
Because when he was gone? She didn’t think she could ever find someone who made her feel so much ever again. He was a one in a million type of man. Someone to be trusted. Someone she could… love.
With that thought came the urge to pull away. The need to tell him it was all too much. It poked and prodded her to save her heart. Run. Hide. But then she lifted her gaze to his and it all… fell away. Those terrible doubts fell away as she fell into a molten puddle in his arms.
Mason lowered his head, toned, firm lips scorching her skin as he caressed her lips and then teased the line of her jaw. He continued, mouth dancing over her skin until he reached the space right below her ear. A tremble of desire slithered through her with that touch, a zing of arousal spearing her.
His talented fingers brushed the underside of her bra, calluses scraping the delicate silk and lace. Lucy sighed and leaned into him, needing to feel the hard planes of his body against her curves. His hand delved beneath the fabric of her bra, pads of his fingers ghosting over the stiff peak of her sensitive nipple.
Lucy rolled her shoulders, allowing her shirt to slide down her arms and fall to the floor. Mason didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the added room, his free hand sliding to her back. A quick twist undid the clasp of her bra and then that too tumbled to the ground. Those teasing, scorching kisses paused just long enough for him to draw back to stare down at what he’d just revealed.
She followed his line of sight, a sliver of self-consciousness easing into her blood for a moment—her soft stomach and large breasts nothing like the toned women of the pack. But he merely licked his lips, eyes brightening to amber, and pulled his lips back in a wicked smile.
Mason massaged her breast, cupping the fullness and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her hardened nipple. He scraped the firm nub with his thumbnail and she shivered with his touch.
“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined.” His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear. “And I imagined a lot.”
Lucy grinned and turned her head, lips tingling with the need to taste him—explore every inch of his body. Only to have him nudge her away.
“Not tonight. Tonight I’m going to make you happy. Very, very happy.” As if to prove his point, his touch went to her shorts and he quickly unbuttoned them before lowering the fly.
“I guess you have experience taking shorts off me,” she teased.
“I do.” He flashed her a grin. “But this time I get to look.” Without another word, he dropped to his knees and tugged on her shorts. The fabric clung to her hips for a moment before sliding down her thighs and falling into a heap at her feet.
Mason’s breath caught, his attention wholly on Lucy’s pussy. Or rather, the sheer white panties that barely shielded her from his gaze.
“Lucy,” he whispered her name ever so softly. “Did you dress up for me?” He glanced at her but before she could form a snappy comeback, his mouth was on her skin. He teased her inner thighs, nudging her gently so she would spread her legs for him.
Mason lapped at her skin—soft, gentle licks over her warming flesh as he ventured north. She shivered with every searing kiss, every tormenting caress of his tongue on her body. Her nipples hardened even further, the need surging through her like a punishing wave of desire.
Why had she said she couldn’t mate him, again? Whatever her reasons, they seemed insignificant now. Like nothing in the face of the devastating pleasure Mason could cause. And fuck, she knew it’d be good. So very, very good. There was no way this man wouldn’t make her scream his name while she forgot her own.
She opened her mouth to… what? Beg? Plead? Promise damn near anything if he’d just touch her already? And then… then he did. His strong hands rose to tease the hem of her panties, talented digits dipping beneath the elastic to torment her sensitive skin.
“Mason,” she whispered. A soft plea for more.
He silently denied her, mouth dipping low once more as he ignored where she needed him most. He returned to the inside of her thighs, teasing them with the same fierce determination he’d shown before.
It’d turned into torture now. To watch him, over six feet of hardened muscle and sexy man fully dressed as he kissed her. As he edged nearer and nearer to her aching pussy. She at least wanted to rip his clothing from his body, watch his rippling muscles as he gripped her thighs. Watch his thick cock surging into her wet sheath, claiming her with his body.
She wet her lips and other imaginings filled her mind. The thought of taking him into her mouth rising above all others. She’d lick him slowly, lap at the salty liquid on the tip of his cock before taking him deep once more. Slow and steady at first, then taking more, moving faster and faster until his knees went weak and he begged for mercy.
She smiled with those wicked thoughts, her core pulsing and clit twitching with the erotic imaginings. Only to have the day dream wiped from existence when his talented lips found the hem of her panties once more. Not just lips. His tongue traced the edge of lace and she shuddered with the promise of pleasure.