“Take me. Please,” I groan, biting my lip when he slowly lowers me onto his cock. My legs shake as he stretches me. “Mason . . . oh, fuck.”
He bounces me up and down, fucking me in the middle of my friends’ condo, with our clothes still on and the cold metal of his zipper rubbing against my clit. Biting at my flesh. It hurts and it’s heaven. Fuck, he’s so big I fear he might rip me in half, but even the threat of death wouldn’t stop me from taking this. From allowing him to use my body for his pleasure, which is exactly what he’s doing. I have no control right now. He’s manipulating my weight, lowering me onto his cock at the pace and ferocity he wants, and every time I gasp in shock or squirm in his arms, he revels in my response by giving it to me harder. Faster. Squeezing my thighs until they sting as he shows me how fierce his need is for me, which only solidifies my longing for him.
I’ve kept him hard since this morning. He’s punishing me in the sweetest way for it.
Take me. Take me. Just don’t let me go.
With parted lips he looks into my eyes, our faces inches apart as his shallow breaths bathe my skin and absorb into my lungs.
I feel drugged.
I want to taste him in my soul. I want to feel him moving in my blood. I want to consume and be consumed by this man. Only him.
Love is a madness I will willingly accept if he’s the one pulling me under.
“Brooke . . . goddamn.” He thrusts his hips steadily. “So good. So good, baby.”
God, I love it when he calls me that.
My fingers tug at Mason’s hair as I lean forward and moan into his mouth. I feel my orgasm tickling my spine. “I’m close. Where do you want to come?” I ask, watching the sweat bead on his brow. His nostrils flaring.
He keeps me on the tip of his cock, slowly lowering and lifting me. He sucks on my lips. “Where can I?” His voice is strained. He’s close too.
“Anywhere.”
“Anywhere?” He leans back and studies my face.
I smirk. I can’t help myself.
Tensing my thighs, I arch into him and reach behind me, fisting his cock. I position him at my back entrance.
He sucks in a breath. His eyes as round as quarters as he stares at me. “Brooke.”
“Anywhere,” I whisper against his mouth, slowly applying pressure to the head of his cock, easing him past that tight ring of muscle.
I take in slow, deep breaths, controlling my breathing.
Mason isn’t controlling much of anything.
“Baby,” he rasps, his shoulders and arms tensing, his chest heaving as he slips inside, just an inch, maybe not even that much. Growling like a caged animal, the cords in his neck threatening to burst, he lifts me off his cock and reaches between us, stroking himself furiously against my clit. “Ah, fuck . . . Brooke, fuck!” he yells, the first spurts of cum hitting my stomach and the bunched material of my dress. The rest of his desire coating my sex and his fingers.
Bliss.
“Wow,” I breathe, dragging my lips along his cheek, moaning at the warm sensation between my legs. “That was crazy.”
And hot.
Mason snarls, leaning away and looking down between us. I swear he sways on his feet.
“Shit, Brooke. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I got it on your dress.”
“Shh.” I reach down and grab his dick, pressing it where I ache the most. Our eyes lock. “Need to come.”
Huffing out a breath, he moves us to a nearby stool and sits me on it. His cock wet and heavy against my thigh. With his hand between my legs and his lips moving across my skin, he brings me to orgasm within seconds, pressing sweet words against my cheek and dirty ones into my ear.
He tells me I’m beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and that he’ll be coming in my ass soon enough.
My tight, fuckable ass.
I moan against his shirt, panting as I come down from my climax. He grabs my face and kisses me.