“Yeah?”
His hand pressed against my stomach and pulled me back against him. “Yeah. I do. You got to see me come all over your hand. Now I want to see you come all over mine,” he said, as his fingers teased the waistline of my shorts.
We had tried that before. I’d panicked. I didn’t want to mess this morning up. “What if I’m not ready?” I asked, unable to deny how the way his fingertips slipped into the top of my bottoms made me tremble with excitement.
He paused a moment, and then his mouth trailed kisses back down my neck and across my shoulder. “I thought about that. I’ve been thinking about it. I need to keep you with me when I touch you. So I want to try it again, but I won’t stop talking to you. I will reassure you the whole time and make sure you know it’s me. Can we try?”
My breasts were aching, but the space between my legs felt like it was on fire. I wanted this. My body wanted it. And I loved Mase. He wanted this. “OK,” I replied.
“Thank fuck,” he growled. He picked me up like a child and carried me to the bed and lay down beside me. “You smell so good. When I’m back home, I lie in my bed at night, and I can smell a hint of you. It teases me. I want you there. With me,” he whispered in my ear, as he slowly began easing his hand inside my shorts. I didn’t have on panties underneath, and he was about to find that out.
When he slid down far enough to realize it, he stopped. “Baby, you aren’t wearing panties,” he said in a deep voice.
I turned my head so I could see him.
His eyes looked much like they did when I was touching him. This excited him that much. The wetness between my legs got worse, and I was embarrassed for him to discover how turned-on I was.
“Open your legs. Please, for me. Let me touch you. I want to see you come for me. Feel your wetness on my hand. Can you give me that, Reese? I want it so bad.”
I swallowed nervously. “I’m wet now,” I said, feeling mortified at even having to say it.
His eyes flashed something so intense it made my heart skip a beat. His fingers slid down over my mound and into the folds below. The needy ache I’d had down there all morning was now a throb, and I had to grab his arm to keep from shooting off the bed.
“Oh, fuck,” he said in a low groan, and he buried his head in my neck. “Sweetest * in the world is soaking wet for me.”
He was happy about it. I would have breathed a sigh of relief, but his fingers began to move, and all I could do was make noises and hold on to his arm and a fistful of the sheet.
“That’s all me. My hand between your legs. My fingers touching your little *. Me, baby. Me. It’s all mine. I’ll always take care of you. Nothing or no one will hurt you.” His voice was low and at my ear. I was shivering and clinging to him.
He wanted to keep me in the moment with him, and he was doing a wonderful job. I wasn’t sure I could be anywhere else.
“When you’re ready, I’m going to put my mouth right here,” he said, as he ran his finger over my most sensitive spot. “I’m going to lick this button until you scream and claw at my back while you come on my face. You’ll love it. I swear you will. You will hold my head there and beg me not to stop. Because it will be me.”
The building feeling inside of me was growing, and I knew what this was. I’d once brought myself to release before things . . . happened. I had played fantasies in my head with boys at school while in bed at night. But this was something stronger. It was similar, but it was bigger. I wanted it. I wanted it with Mase.
“That’s it, baby. Let me have your pleasure. Give it to me. I want to see you fall apart for me. I want to see my girl feel good in my arms. You’re so beautiful.”
With those words, I broke apart, screaming his name as my body shook and he held me tight. His hand stayed on me, cupping me and riding through the waves of ecstasy with me. I was chanting his name. I heard it in the distance.
He was calling me baby and telling me I was incredible.
I didn’t want to come back. This trip was one I could live on.
But eventually, it eased, and I slowly descended back to earth. Mase’s arms were still around me, holding me close, and his hand remained on me. His breathing was hard, and his eyes were dark and heated as he stared down at me. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed, as I blinked and finally focused on him.
I couldn’t talk just yet. That hadn’t been at all what I’d experienced in my bed when I was younger. My fingers did not make me do that. Was that even healthy? It was so good it had to be dangerous. And I wanted to do it again. Now.