by Mia Madison
“I made my decision.”
“Yeah?” I choked out, my throat dry.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice rough. His head cocked to the side and his eyes slid down my body lazily before finally coming back up to settle on my lips. “It’s worth the risk.”
Before I could even process the words, his hands were on my hips and pulling me flush against him. I moaned the instant his lips pressed against mine.
There wasn’t anything sweet about our first kiss. It was ravenous—filled with months of longing and frustration and an animalistic hunger than made heat pool between my legs like never before. I clutched his shoulders to keep my weak knees from giving out, but his tight hold on my hips assured me that he wouldn’t let me fall. I poured my own desire for him into the kiss, smiling against his lips when he groaned low in his throat.
Mason pulled away and panted, “What are you smiling about?”
“I’ve been wanting you for eight months. Why wouldn’t I be smiling?”
Mason grinned. Had I not been completely enamored with the man already, I knew his expression would have tipped me over. Despite how rough his kiss was, the look in his eyes made me feel like he had been having the same internal struggle that I had.
I was also happy to finally understand what took him so damn long. I was honestly considering sending his brother the biggest fucking bouquet of flowers I could find for not telling Mason to stay away from me.
“Layla? You still with me?”
I felt his fingers tip my chin up and a single eyebrow raised in question as he gazed down at me. I let out a rather girlish sigh before I nodded, totally struck by the fact that my dreams were coming true.
Speaking of coming...
I pushed my hips forward and grinned mischievously when he sucked in a sharp breath. I could feel his hardness digging into my lower abdomen and I gyrated myself against him one more time.
Then he totally fucking snapped.
It would have been an understatement to say I was shocked by the animalistic growl that rose from Mason’s chest. He was always so warm and mild-mannered that I never in my wildest dreams imagined him doing something like yanking down my yoga shorts and spinning me around—pushing my shoulder until I was bent over the lone couch in the room.
Easy-going Mason apparently had a kinky side. A wildly dominant kind of kinky. That became abundantly clear when his palm landed with a sharp crack on my ass.
“Mason,” I groaned as I pressed my ass higher into the air. “Harder!”
“Fucking hell,” he whispered in disbelief before landing a smack on the other cheek. “I knew it. I knew you were a bad girl from the first time I saw you.”
I wanted to say something cheeky, but I was entirely too distracted by his hands as he frantically tore my clothes off. All I could do was moan and whimper as he undressed first me then himself. When I saw his shorts go flying as he kicked them off, I spun around to take a look.
“And I knew you were packing from our first session,” I said with a smirk as I stared at his cock. “Damn.”
Unable to resist, I wrapped my fingers around him and let out a moan to match his. He was like hot steel wrapped in velvet and so thick it was almost unreal. I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me.
I backed up to the couch and plopped down, spreading my legs in a blatant invitation. His eyes immediately landed on my exposed core and he sucked in a sharp breath before stalking toward me. I wasn’t expecting him to drop to his knees—but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain as he shoved his face between my legs and lapped at me like his life depended on it.
“Ohh!” I screeched as he latched onto my clit almost immediately.
I could feel his lips curling against my skin in a smile, but I didn’t have time to think much about it before he was slipping two fingers into me and pumping in time with the flicks of his tongue.
The way Mason sensually moved his body during our sessions had always given me the impression that he would be fantastic in the sack. Surprisingly, I had never thought much about how he would be at performing this particular act. If he was half as good with his cock as he was with his tongue—I was never letting him go.
“I’m so close, I’m so fucking close,” I chanted as I felt the heat shooting through my veins and my hips starting to roll on their own. “Mason.”
He groaned and pushed a third finger inside along with the first two and the additional stretch was enough to break me. I cried out as my walls spasmed around his expert fingers and he continued the lapping of his tongue against my clitoris until I finished riding the waves of my climax.
“Holy shit,” I breathed out once I came down from my high. “I’ve never come that hard before.”
Mason backed away, his jaw slack as he wiped my juices off with the back of his hand. A slow smile spread across his lips as he stared at me through hooded eyes.
“We’re just getting started.”
He rose to his feet and his cock bobbed obscenely in the air. My mouth watered at the sight and I leaned forward—intent on returning the favor—but he gripped my hair tightly and pulled my face back as soon as I got close.
I looked up into his eyes and watched him shake his head, but the warning in his expression didn’t stop me from sticking out my tongue and just barely tapping the leaking tip.
Mason growled and jerked my hair again, letting go when I whimpered. He was tugging me to my feet and pushing me back toward the couch before I could say a word.
“Knees up,” he commanded, guiding my knees to rest comfortably on the couch cushions. “Bend over.” I bent over the back of the couch as instructed, letting out a pleased squeak when he smacked my ass. “Stick it out more.”
He tugged my hips back and a few seconds later, I felt the broad tip sliding up and down my soaked folds. Just as my mouth fell open to whisper his name, he pushed his cock deep into me. He froze when he was balls deep, his fingers flexing on my hips as he struggled to maintain control.
“You feel amazing,” he groaned during an experimental thrust. “Perfect. You good?”
“Yes. Fuck me, Mason,” I begged, pushing back against him.
He didn’t—at least not the way I expected him to. He kept pulling nearly all the way out and pushing back in at such a slow pace that I could feel every millimeter of his cock as it moved within me. It was the most delicious kind of torture I’d ever experienced.
“W-What are you doing?” I gasped as he continued the slow strokes.
“Watching your pussy cling to me,” he whispered, not stopping his movements. “It’s fucking gorgeous.”
I moaned wantonly as he caressed my hips while he continued, occasionally whispering compliments to me in an almost worshiping tone. As frustrated as the slowness made me, I couldn’t ask him to stop. It felt too good, even though it wasn’t enough.
Thankfully, his self-control only lasted so long. He pulled himself all the way out and directed his cock head to glide against my clitoris—once, twice—before going back down and slamming into me so hard and fast that I couldn’t help but scream.
The sound of the wet squelch didn’t escape my notice even under my cries of pleasure and I knew he noticed it, too. He pumped into me at an almost frantic pace, alternating between grunts and low groans of pleasure.
“I-I’m going to—”
“Yeah, you are,” he cut me off as he pounded me harder. “You’re gonna come again. You’re gonna make this tight pussy even wetter for me and milk my cock ‘til I pop inside you.”
Dirty talk was usually my jam, but I couldn’t even form a coherent thought let alone any actual words. All I could do was take his cock while thinking about how good and how right it felt to finally have him inside of me.
“Do it,” he whispered, just barely loud enough to hear over the sound of our skin slapping together. “Come on me.”
I did, and it was even harder than the first time. I cried out his name while he held me tighter to keep me from bucking
him off. I was vaguely aware of the way he shouted my name in response and when he came to a sudden grinding halt as deep inside me as he could get, my orgasm intensified when I felt the flood of heat and the throb of his hard length as he emptied himself.
Once the mind-blowing effect of the orgasm wore off, I made a mental note to take a morning after pill as soon as possible and make sure we had condoms available for the next round. I was on the birth control pill, but I didn’t want to risk it.
Mason eased himself out and it brought me back to the moment. I let myself sag against the back of the couch as he sat down beside me. A brief moment passed before he was grabbing for me with eager hands and pulling me down to rest in his lap with an arm hung lazily around my hip.
We sat in silence for a while, just waiting for our breathing to return to normal. Had I been in a more comfortable position, I might have even passed out.
But I was still fully awake when he abruptly said, “You better not try to pay me for this.”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I think the money would be better spent getting this couch cleaned before my mom gets back.”
“Probably a good idea,” he agreed, looking sheepish as he said, “Sorry about that.”
I instinctively knew he meant about the mess between my legs and I shrugged. “It’s cool—I got it covered. But I’d prefer if we used a condom next time. Better safe than sorry and all that crap.”
“Definitely,” he agreed, his body sagging with relief even as his arms gripped me tighter. A beat passed before he softly questioned, “She went to Spain, right?”
“Mm-hmm. Speaking of that... I wanted to ask you something.” I looked up and waited until he raised his eyebrows before I asked, “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”
The way his eyebrows furrowed together with confusion was nothing short of adorable.
“You realize it’s like eleven o’clock.”
“I meant tomorrow morning.”
What I was hinting at began to dawn on him and a grin slowly spread across his lips.
“I’ll make eggs,” he offered, murmuring the words against my lips.
“I love eggs.”
“I love your lips.”
He kissed me before I could respond, but all I could think about was how I had just teased Ava and Trent about how sickeningly sweet they were together the night before. Now I understood the appeal.
5
“Are you serious right now?” I asked dryly, staring at Mason like he’d grown a second head. He raised a single eyebrow and nodded and I immediately shook my head. “No. That’s fucking insane.”
“It’s not insane to want to get to know you better, Layla,” he shot back just as humorlessly. “It’s Sunday—the day of rest. So let’s rest a little, yeah?”
I was flabbergasted as I watched him walk away, wondering what the hell I was in for if he really planned to stick to his guns on this.
Did he seriously want to spend an entire day just... talking?
It seemed so absurd after we had spent the majority of Saturday fucking like animals—only taking breaks to refuel before going at it again.
But when we woke up in my bed Sunday morning and I tried to roll on top to give Mason a special kind of ‘good morning’, he pushed me away and declared that we needed to slow down today. Get to know each other.
Apparently, that meant no touching. None.
I chased him down the hall and blurted, “Did I drain your balls or something?”
He turned to look at me, his eyebrows raised high and his mouth hanging open in surprise. Once the initial shock wore off, his shoulders started to lightly shake as he tried to hold himself back from laughing.
“It’s okay if that’s what happened. You can tell me. I just don’t see the point in purposely not touching each other all day.”
Mason shook his head to himself and laughed softly. “You didn’t drain my balls. Well—you kind of did—but not enough to still be affecting me. I’m damn proud of my virility, thank you very much.”
“Then why?” I asked helplessly, unable to understand.
“Why what? Why talk? Why get to know more about each other? Why attempt to see if there’s more here than just lust and mind-numbing sex?”
I smirked. “Mind-numbing, huh?”
Mason rolled his eyes. “You know it was and that’s exactly my point. You’re focusing too much on the sex. When I came here and said I’d take the risk—I’m taking it for more than just your body.”
The words were music to my ears—or heart, as the case may be. It was certainly pounding hard while my stomach tensed from the sensation of butterflies.
Back when I first met him, I thought that the only reason he made me feel like a teenager with a crush was because he was so much older than me. I had convinced myself that was the reason.
Now, I was beginning to realize I was wrong. I wondered if this was what all women—and maybe even men—felt like when feelings were involved. Maybe the seemingly pointless emotions during our childhood crushes were meant to prepare us to recognize the signs of real love once we were old enough to find it.
“I understand,” I said when I noticed he was still waiting for a response. “But all day? Can we maybe throw in a quickie at some point?”
Mason chuckled and stepped forward to press a chaste kiss to my forehead.
“We’ll see.”
Hours later, I was surprised to find just how much I enjoyed Mason’s company in a non-touching capacity. Well, maybe not surprised considering it wasn’t really anything new—but it was odd to me that while I still felt the strong pull of desire to have him touch me, it got easier to ignore as I learned more and more about him. I wanted him, but I also didn’t want him to stop talking. It was quite the conundrum.
“So why aren’t you in school?” he asked shortly after we finished lunch.
“I am. I’m enrolled in the school of life,” I said as I swept my hands out in an exaggerated gesture at the room around us.
Mason laughed and shook his head, saying nothing as he waited for me to elaborate. My smile fell a little as he cocked his head to the side with curiosity.
“There’s no way I can say this without sounding like some spoiled rich bitch.”
“You’re not a bitch, Layla.”
“You must not know me very well,” I joked. “But in all seriousness—I’m a trust fund baby. My dad left this world richer than God. Half went to my mom and the other half to me. If I’m careful, I won’t have to work a day in my life.”
“Do you want to work?”
I smiled gratefully when I realized Mason wasn’t judging me. It warmed my heart that he seemed to get it—get me—right off the bat.
“I do. Sort of. I... I like to paint,” I shyly admitted, watching as his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I like all kinds of art, actually. I write sometimes as well. I know it’s not a real job, but—”
“Of course it is. Do you put hard work into it?” I nodded. “Enjoying your work doesn’t make it any less of a job.”
“Could you tell my mom that? And pretty much every teacher I ever had in high school?”
Mason grinned. “I get the feeling that you wouldn’t really give a shit whether they thought that or not.”
“You’re not wrong. Other people’s opinions never stopped me from doing anything before,” I told him with a smile. “What about you? Was teaching yoga what you always wanted to do?”
“Hell no,” Mason said with a scoff. “I was a baseball player back in the day.”
I already knew that from a shameless internet search back when Mason first arrived in my life, but I had no intention of stopping him. I wanted to hear his life story from his own mouth.
“Were you any good?”
“I was great. I was drafted to a pro team right out of college. I rode the bench for two years before the starting pitcher was moved to another team.”
“So how’d you get here?”
His smi
le turned sad. “I played for a few seasons before I ended up getting hurt in a car accident. I didn’t have any major injuries, but there were enough minor ones to keep me off the field when the season started. I was in physical therapy for months. That’s when I started going to yoga. I was better by the time the next season rolled around, but I just... I don’t know. I lost the urge to play.”
Pieces started clicking together in my head and I asked, “Did you start out helping people in physical therapy like you were?”
Mason’s smile brightened once more and it made my heart feel like it was going to burst. He was just as happy as I was that I seemed to instinctively understand him.
God, this really is love, isn’t it?
“I did. I still do when the opportunity arises. I understand how much it sucks. I was mad at the world when I first got hurt. Thought my career was ending.”
“But it was just the beginning, wasn’t it? Life works in mysterious ways.”
Mason stared hard at me for a long moment, the smile falling from his lips. I was trying to figure out what I had said wrong when he abruptly stood from his chair and walked to my side of the table. He tugged me upright and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly.
“That it does,” he murmured against my hair.
Yep. I’m completely in love with him.
6
A part of me felt like the realization that I had been right all along should have made me happy, but the dominant part was a little freaked out.
In an effort to calm myself down and keep from panicking for no reason, I separated myself from his embrace and suggested we continue our day of talking while soaking up some sun in the pool. Mason agreed without hesitation and I rushed up to my room to change into my bathing suit and take a moment to collect myself.
“Pull it together, Harrison,” I muttered to my reflection as I adjusted my bikini top. “It’s not like being in love with him is that much of a surprise.”
Because it really wasn’t. It felt like the most natural thing in the world—like I had known it for months and simply never indulged in recognizing it to spare myself the heartache of not having him.
