“Nothing,” he whispered back. “I just wanted to see if you’d obey me.” He pressed a finger against her clit, just for a moment. She took a deep breath, embarrassed by how wet she was. Her hormones, her adrenaline, her brain, all of it totally haywire with a mixture of terror and desire.
“What are you thinking?”
Her eyes shot to his. She decided to tell him the truth. “I was thinking how hot it makes me feel when you tell me to do stuff. I shouldn’t like being ordered around. Should I?”
He leaned close to her, caressing her thigh again. Each stroke set off a harder pulse in her pussy. When he spoke, she had to concentrate really hard to untangle his words.
“You can’t help what you like,” he said. “Your body knows what you want. To be good in bed, to be sexually satisfied, you have to listen to what your body tells you and put all the shouldn’ts and don’t-knows away. If you want to learn about sex, that’s lesson number one. I don’t want to hear anything more about what you should and shouldn’t like, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
Consequences. Oh my God. She stared up at him, transfixed by his expression. Such intensity there, and yet tenderness too. He enjoyed this, holding power over her, making her sweat and squirm and fear and lust for him.
“Do you want to dance, baby?” She released a long breath. Yes, she wanted to dance. Yes, anything to get out of this booth and have something to do besides dream about him pulling her under the table and fucking her senseless.
Oh, but the dancing was much, much worse. He drew her to the middle of the floor where everyone could see them, and wrapped an arm around her waist, smiling down at her. She put a hand on his shoulder. He was so hard, so strong, his body like steel against hers and yet so warm and sexy. Mason Cooke. Sometimes it still hit her out of the blue. She was dancing with Mason Cooke. She opened her mouth and shut it again.
“Give me your hand, baby.”
She did, and he held it exactly the way she’d fantasized, in a strong, encompassing grip that made her feel desired and safe. She couldn’t look away from his face, from his smile. It was a knowing smile. But what did he actually know? That she was falling in love with him? Or only that her pussy had been wet as an ocean as he’d caressed her back in the booth?
People swayed around them, in similarly intimate clinches. Did they desire one another as much as she desired Mason? The band played At Last, a song Miri had always loved. At last, my love has come along... So blissful and sultry. She rested her head on his chest and drifted. This was just like in her dream, only then her dance partner hadn’t had a face, or such an awesome body, and hadn’t smelled as deliciously masculine as Mason with his designer cologne. She wished she could run her fingers up into his soft, dark hair. But that would be too much. If she did that, she’d have to run it down his muscular back and then down to grab his ass and then—
“What are you thinking?” he asked again.
She stared up at him. “I’m thinking you ask me that too much. And I’m thinking this is really, really nice, dancing with you.”
“Nice, huh?” His eyes twinkled and his lips turned up at the edges. He squeezed her hand and kissed it. “Everything you dreamed?”
She shivered. They were only here to convince people. Right? So why did this have to feel so perfect? She gazed into his eyes, feeling sadness and wonderment too. She breathed in slowly, then let it out. “It’s so much more than what I dreamed. Thanks, Mason.”
His body tightened and his hand tensed around hers. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have to drag you out to the car.” He guided her head back against his chest and held her tight. The waif-like songstress started another French song, but it barely registered. Miri was much more compelled at the moment by Mason’s hard length pressing against her front with every sensuous sway of his hips. They danced for three songs. Four. Erotic tension grew between them. Her body ached every time she met his gaze.
“We need to go soon,” he said finally. “Like, now. Are you ready?”
Thank God. “I’m ready.”
He took her hand and led her from the room, down a quiet corridor to an iron flight of stairs. They climbed together to the exit.
“Good night, Mr. Cooke,” one of the doormen said. They pushed open the wide steel doors and Mason ushered her through. That was when the world exploded into pushing, screaming, and flashing lights.
“Jesus Christ,” Mason hissed. He pushed her behind him as the crowd surged forward. “Help me!”
At first Miri thought he was yelling at her to help, but then the doormen materialized at their sides, trying to box out the photographers. It was two men against what seemed like a hundred. “Come on,” Mason yelled at her. She flinched as he stepped on her foot, then she tripped and almost went down. There was a rabid heat coming off the crowd as it surged forward. Mason put his arms around her and shouldered through the mass of photographers only to realize they’d surrounded the car.
“We need a cab,” he barked to one of the doormen. Miri felt a camera bump her head, felt someone pulling her arm. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and then she was falling into the back seat of a Hollywood taxi. Mason came behind her, slamming the door. “Go! Just get out of here,” he snapped at the driver. “God damn it.” He turned back to Miri. “Fucking Shane. I told him where we were going, but I didn’t know it would be like that. If I knew, I would have snuck you out some other way. I’m sorry.”
Miri stared at Mason, trying to make sense of the hysteria they’d just encountered. She couldn’t stop shaking. She tried, but she couldn’t. Holy fuck.
*** *** ***
Mason turned off his phone and turned off his brain and held Miri until she stopped trembling. He had the cab bring her to his house, where he helped her undress and fussed over her foot and apologized a thousand times for the bedlam outside the club. She finally put her fingers over his lips and said, “Look on the bright side. They seem to believe us now.”
She always looked on the bright side, his lovely sidekick. Just like that, the incident was behind them, erased by her patient smile.
He took her to bed, needing to be tender and sweet to her. Needing to worship her. If that crush had happened to Jess through some fault of his, his ex would have tormented him for weeks. She would have found ways to get back at him, devious, cruel ways that required lots of planning. Miri just cracked a joke, smiled at him, and moved on. God, what a miracle she was.
He stripped her bare, stripped himself too, trusting himself not to lose control. He wanted her so bad. He wanted to fall on her and destroy her pussy. Instead he held her, kissed and caressed her. He pushed her back on the bed and pinned her arms so they were spread wide on either side of her, then he knelt between her legs, stroking his cock, praying for calm. “Don’t move an inch, baby. Nothing. Perfectly still.” He watched her a moment to be sure she’d listen.
Her eyes were wide, curious. Her breathless little pants slaughtered him. Her mouth fell open and Mason had crass thoughts about driving into it until his cock hit the back of her throat. Instead he grabbed her legs, draped them up over his shoulders and lowered his mouth to her pussy. It was one of his favorite things, going down. They hadn’t gotten to it yet, but Jesus, it was time.
“Are you— Mason—” He paused, looking up at her. “No one’s ever done this to me.”
“And?”
It took a moment for the wheels to turn. “You’re going to do it to me now?”
“Yes. I’m going to lick your pussy until you come.” He took her legs again, drawing her near to his mouth.
“But—”
“But what?” he asked with a groan. He couldn’t wait to taste her, to show her how much her patience and kindness mattered to him.
“I’m not sure…”
Silly girl. When he used to do this to Jessamine, she’d raise the roof with her screams. “We made a deal, yes?” he reminded her. “I’m supposed to teach you about sex. Now lie
back and be still like I asked. I guarantee you’ll like this.”
With a sigh, she relaxed. He drew her legs over his shoulders again. “Open your thighs for me, baby. Let me have you.”
A small hesitation, but she complied. He could sense her arousal, not just in the wetness of her pussy, but the way she watched him, the way she held herself. She liked submitting to him like this, he could swear it—and it was submission. She was as excited about his force as she was about his tongue teasing her clit. God, he had to get her downstairs to his dungeon soon.
He licked and kissed her pussy with a heightened fervor he’d never felt before. This was her first time getting oral, and every buck of her hips, every strangled moan imprinted on his memory. He would always remember this, her dread and excitement, her sweet scent and taste. Just from her noises, he knew what to do, how to build her desire higher and make her wait, and build her higher again, so when she finally came...
When she finally came she was tearful. Astounded. Her whole body quaked and she made a sound like no sound Mason had ever heard, a pleading, crying wail of triumph in her throat.
“I came,” she sighed when she returned from the heights of her climax.
“I noticed.” Mason lowered her to the bed, massaging her thighs, placing a lingering kiss at her mons.
“No, I mean, I really came.”
“Ye of little faith,” he murmured. “I knew all along you would.”
“How did you know?”
He slid his hand over her pussy, enjoying her warmth and dampness. “Because you’re fearless, and you’re curious as hell. I think you’ve been having naughty thoughts for a long time. Naughty cravings you’ve kept hidden away from the world. From yourself, even.”
She looked vulnerable for a moment, almost guilty.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m the last person to judge you. But I’m right, aren’t I?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. “You want to be played with, Miri Durand. Like a toy.”
He drew back to watch the emotions playing across her face, swirling in her crystal ball. He saw one thing first and foremost: need. Her fingertips opened against his skin. “I want... I want...”
“Tell me, baby.”
“I want you to... Well.”
“Just say it.”
“When you finally...you know...do it with me, I want you to...not be gentle. I’ve always felt like I don’t want sweet sex.”
Mason smiled, stroking her wrinkled brow. “Shocking.”
She swallowed hard and stared at him. “You know, that day we did that scene together, the rapey one?”
“You enjoyed it.”
“Yes, and I felt awful afterward. I mean, I hated it, but I still liked it. I couldn’t understand why.”
“I felt the same way. On one level I hated pretending to rape you, but on another level it turned me on. Which you surely realized from my huge erection.”
“I liked that part of it too,” Miri said. “I went home and replayed the whole thing in my head.”
He gave her a dire look. “Did you touch yourself, naughty girl?”
“I’m afraid I did,” she whispered. She squirmed as he slid a finger down her slick pussy lips. She was already responding to him again, already primed for more. Insatiable, like him.
“Did you touch yourself like this?” She shuddered and sighed. “Answer me ‘Yes, Sir,’” he prompted.
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed. “Oh, God.”
“Did you think about my hard cock while you touched yourself?”
Another shiver. “Yes, Sir.”
He fondled her and pressed his thumb right up against her swollen clit. Insatiable indeed. “Did you touch yourself here? Did you stroke your hot wet clit until you came, thinking about me fucking you and forcing you down?”
“Y-Yes, Sir!” She arched against his hand. It was cruel, teasing her when she was so wrought up, still buzzing from her previous orgasm. “Please. Please have sex with me, Mason. Please fuck me, right now.”
“No, my naughty little virgin.” He parted her gently with his thumbs, gazing at the beautiful feminine parts he’d licked and fondled and toyed with for days now. “I’m not doing it yet. See, you have this...” He searched lower, squinted and looked closer. “Oh my God.” He’d stared at a lot of juicy pussies in his life, but he’d never seen this. “Holy fuck. You really, actually have a hymen.”
She tried to pull away from him. “You’re looking at my hymen?”
“Never seen one before. Wow.” He poked at it lightly, stroked the small opening while she struggled to close her thighs. He finally let her go. She slammed her legs together while he tried to collect his senses. Instantaneously, his cock was hard enough to hammer a nail into concrete. She stared at him, thinking God knew what. After a full minute, he felt composed again.
“I don’t really know a suave way to say this, Miri. I can’t wait to bust through that thing.”
She pulled away from him and rolled onto her side. “I think you might be blowing this out of proportion. I hope you don’t end up disappointed. Once my virginity is gone, how are you going to muster up any interest in fucking me?”
Mason laughed and hugged her from behind, his mouth against her ear. “Believe me, even after I take your virginity, I’m going to fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you until you beg me to stop. I’m going to fuck you until you’ve had so much Mason Cooke crammed in your orifices that you can’t stand it anymore.”
She turned to him. “So you’re saying you’re going to be a very thorough teacher?”
She was killing him. She was doing it intentionally. “I’m not going to fuck you today,” he moaned. “Even if you look at me like that, and use that sexy virgin voice.” He put a hand over her eyes and wrapped her up with his other arm so she was trapped in his grip. “You’re playing with me now, but the time will come when I’ll be the one playing with you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I wonder if you’ll enjoy the things I do to you.”
She struggled, squirming at the cloaked threat in his words. He tightened his hold on her with a demonic chuckle and growled with pleasure when she fell still.
Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke. “I think I’ll probably enjoy them.”
He released her, traced the subtle arch of her brow, her delicate cheekbones. Her cherry lips. “I hope you do.” He hoped she liked every single thing he did to her.
He hoped scandal followed them forever so they had no other choice but to hole up in bed together and hide.
Chapter Eight: One More Day
Revelation was wrapped. Mason’s time was his own again, at least for a few weeks, and he chose to spend most of it with Miri. He took her to dinners, to parties, doing his best to protect her from the paparazzi lens. They stayed indoors when they craved privacy…and when they craved each other. She’d wanted him to teach her and Jesus, he was teaching the shit out of her every private moment they got.
Lots of fondling, lots of oral, even some light bondage and playful spanking. She got a little braver each time, because he egged her on and told her to be proud of her sexuality, to follow her body’s directives, not her mind’s. He took her to the play room in his basement, the dungeon he’d assembled in horny frustration after his divorce. Until now, with no kinky partner, the implements and equipment had been gathering dust. Miri gawked at his collection of gear, not with horror, but curiosity. Once he eased her into the lifestyle, he was going to spend hours with her down here, working her over and making her come a million times.
Not yet though. He stayed dressed now whenever they did sexy stuff together. He had to, or he’d fall on her and despoil her before the agreed-upon time. They’d picked the date, a window just before her period when they could fuck with relative safety. He’d done STD tests. She’d started on the pill. It was all arranged and scheduled.
One more day.
One more day to go, and she wasn’t even with him. It was probably for the best. He was hiding fro
m phone calls and emails, from the outside world. His mind was elsewhere. He masturbated a couple times thinking about her beautiful body, thinking about cradling her in his arms, driving into her tight virginal sheath.
He would make it so special for her. He was determined on that point. He’d arranged a getaway to a private paradise, three days of sun and sand and never-ending sex. He thought a lot about the connection that would be forged between them with this act. Not just the connection of his cock in her pussy, which was hot enough, but the connection of him being her first. She would never forget that, because women were sentimental. He wanted to give her a worthy encounter to treasure through the years. It was a big responsibility, one he was determined not to fuck up.
He knew she thought it would be some kind of ending between them, that he’d get bored with her after he was done taking her virginity. She guarded her emotions from him, probably because he’d warned her in the beginning she would end up hurt. The joke was on him—he was growing every bit as attached to her as she was to him. If she thought he would move on from her afterward as if they’d shared nothing, she was sorely mistaken. It would probably be better for both of them if he did, but he knew he wouldn’t. He’d grown too close to her to just drop her and get on with his life.
At the same time, he knew chances were good their dalliance would end eventually. Yeah, the “lessons” were hot, and they shared some real moments of closeness, but this was Hollywood. They were reminded of that every time they walked out a door. The crush, the paparazzi, the gossip magazines making up ridiculous shit. He was hardened to the fuckery by this point but he couldn’t imagine how it looked through her eyes.
Of course, being Miri, she soldiered on. She never mentioned the vicious commentary about her on the Mason Cooke fangirl sites, or the fact that pretty much everything the papers wrote about them was made up, including direct quotes. After all, this entire thing had begun as a media scheme, a strategy. They’d made a deal because he needed her sweetness, and because she wanted to prove to everyone that she wasn’t an innocent, girl-next-door type anymore. Problem was, she was an innocent, girl-next-door type.
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