by Stella Rhys
And I believed him.
“This is all I want, Taylor.” His sharp whisper cut through the silent night. Sliding his hand from my throat to my jaw, he hooked his fingers against my lip. “This mouth is the only fucking mouth I want. I want it first thing in the morning. I want it to be the last thing I taste at night. I don’t want to hear it say any other man’s name, do you hear me?” he panted in my ear.
“Yes,” I breathed eagerly. “Only yours.”
With a groan, he dropped his hand so both squeezed my breasts, giving himself leverage to fuck me with a carnal rage from behind. “And these tits,” he grunted fiercely, his long fingers wrapping tight around me, massaging firmly till I gave him a moan. “These fucking beautiful tits are mine.”
“You can have anything, just don’t stop,” I begged from the pit of my throat. His lips spread in a grin against the back of my neck as he reached around to my front.
“I won’t.” That velvet reassurance smoothed over my skin as he played gently with my clit. “Not till I hear you come again.” His fingers tangled in my hair, Mason stroked my swollen pearl, all the while keeping the rhythm of his measured thrusts inside me. “I don’t ever want to stop.” God, it was the best thing I could possibly hear. I gasped for breath as he held me still and took over completely. I wasn’t used to relinquishing all control but with Mason, I reveled in it – in the sound that came with his cock driving balls-deep inside me with every stroke. “Come for me, Taylor,” he demanded, his fist pulsing gently around my hair. “I need to hear you come for me.”
I whimpered, the tension building with a surging force in my core. “Let me look at you when I come,” I whispered, gasping when Mason withdrew from inside me, leaving me with a painful emptiness I’d have never asked for if I knew how it felt. It was barely a second as he carried me from the balcony to the bed but in my mind, it was an eternity and I was already begging desperately for him once my back hit the mattress. But as his exquisite body hovered above me, I forgot the void and realized this was worth it – watching those abs ripple, those eyes blaze into mine as his cock nudged against my pussy and entered me again. I fisted the sheets as I moaned, our eyes locked in the same trance as we rocked against each other, the passion between us like a humid air I could taste.
Slick and sliding against each other, our bodies clenched and begged for release. But the euphoria was so unreal we both refused to let it go. Our pleasure was at capacity and now I could finally understand what Mason said before – about being stretched to his limit without breaking. Because I felt it now. We were ready to come but like masochists, we held out, prolonging the final gratification. My nails dug into his skin as the thrust of his hips grew shorter, tighter – each taut push between my legs joined by a grunt between his gnashed teeth.
“Do you feel what you fucking do to me?” Mason hissed against my neck as his cock swelled harder inside me. “You’re going to make me come harder than I ever have in my life, Taylor. You drive me fucking crazy.” Slow and steady before, his tempo quickened again, his strokes precise, his hot breaths knifing through the air. I was in sensory overload as he kissed my breasts and licked them as if they were his last meal. When I finally came, the sound of my cry brought him with me. The room filled with the roar of his pleasure as a vicious orgasm shook through every inch of his incredible body.
When he collapsed on top of me, I stroked his cheek. I felt the throbbing of his cock still heavy and half-hard between my legs. I relished the awe mixed with content in his eyes, and every hot breath from his mouth that brushed against my swollen lips. Under the strength of his weight, I lay in bliss, in my own private paradise as I simply watched him watch me.
There was no need for answers tonight.
I had questions for Mason before we left for St. Lucia, and I promised myself I’d dare to get them when we came back but I didn’t need them anymore. I hadn’t been certain of anything in a long time, but securely wrapped in Mason’s arms, the air dancing with all the words we didn’t have to say, I was certain. I had lost control and fallen hard, but it didn’t matter.
Because he had done just the same.
Chapter Nineteen
If there was any doubt about what I’d felt last night, it was vanquished in the morning because while the wedding was still on, Mason was ready to go. Standing among the bags we’d barely unpacked, I tried to slow him down and let him think.
“But what about your mom?” I asked gently, thinking about how Clara would not only lose her younger son but know forever that his last interaction with Mason had been downright awful. Freshly showered, his towel loosely knotted over his hips, Mason sank to a seat at the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I’ll have to tell her he made his choice.”
“He was doubting himself last night. You saw that.”
“I did.” Mason lifted his gaze to me. “But if calling the wedding off takes you saying you’ll take him back, I don’t care to see it happen anymore. I know you wouldn’t actually go back to him. I know you want nothing to do with him anymore. But if you say those words, he’ll hold them against you and harass you for… I don’t know how long, but long enough to continue being a part of your life, and that’s not fair to you. You deserve to move on from him and just live again.”
“Mason.” Appreciation welled in my chest as I stood before him at the bed, letting him pull me in by the backs of my thighs. “I obviously want that, and trust me, I don’t want to stay here any longer myself. I was ready to go the second I laid eyes on Aaron last night. But I also don’t want you to go home and feel like you didn’t do enough to try and save your family for your mom.” I smoothed my thumbs over his hollow cheeks as I held his face. “To some degree, I know her pain. I know what it feels like to lose something precious and then pin all your hopes and dreams on one person. And Aaron is clearly the wrong person for anyone to depend on but your mother deserves him. He’s her son. She carried him for nine months and raised him for eighteen years. Losing him after all the time honestly sounds worse to me than – ” I cut off. Twelve weeks.
Just shy of it, actually. But there was no need to finish that sentence because I didn’t want to talk about my past anymore, and Mason knew exactly what I was going to say. Bringing me to my favorite position on his lap, he wrapped my arms around his strong neck and held me against his bare chest. Over the soft T-shirt I’d worn to bed, he kissed me – pressing his lips gently between my breasts, along the tops of them then finally, against the heart-shaped valley between collarbones. Then he looked in my eyes and like yesterday, I could read the words in his heart. All three of them. God, just say it, Mason, I thought before promptly changing my mind. No, don’t say it. I didn’t know what to feel, how I would react if he did. It was too fast for those words and I was more likely to be struck by lightning than hear them from Mason Leo, but I sensed them so clearly it felt like I could trace them with my fingers if I wanted.
To my disappointment and relief, they didn’t manifest in his lips.
“We’ll give it one more shot,” Mason concluded. Then his mouth curled in a smirk. “Might as well considering the 4AM craziness they sent us.”
“True.”
It had been comical, almost. Despite our exhaustion in bed last night, Mason and I had gone for round two. It was unplanned. We were sweaty and sticky so we jumped in the shower and though it started with just my lips wrapped around his cock, it ended with Mason lifting my feet off the ground, wrapping my legs around his narrow hips and pounding me so hard against the marble tile I couldn’t think about how loudly I was screaming his name. It simply wasn’t a priority.
And maybe there had been a knock at the door. Maybe I hadn’t heard it but I had a feeling Aaron had at some point dropped by, because shortly after we emerged from the shower, there were texts in our phone – from Aaron and Eva, respectively. I didn’t ask to read the message Mason received, but I hoped it wasn’t anywhere near as dramatic as mine.
Taylor, I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything but how furious I am with you and how sorry I am to you. If you want me to admit it, I’m jealous. I am as fucking disgusted as I am jealous that you let him fuck you like that. I want a chance to remind you that I can make you feel better than he does but I know that after what I did to you, you’ll never give me that chance so at least let me know that you don’t hate me. I’m a fucking ball of fury, heartache and regret and I don’t know how to let all those feelings live inside me at once. It fucking hurts Taylor. I fucked up. I’m a coward. That much I know but I’ve made my bed so I’ll sleep in it. Just let me have a good memory of you before you go. Even if none of us mean it inside and we’re all still secretly wishing we could rip each other’s throats out, let’s just fake it. For the sake of the last memories we get of each other, let’s just sit together and talk and pretend we’re okay with each other’s new lives. You don’t have to come to my wedding. I would prefer that you didn’t. But at least see me tomorrow morning. You’ll meet my future wife, I’ll make amends with my brother and then we’ll move on like strangers or at least two people who don’t still love each other. I’m begging you, Taylor. Please.
For the second time, I stared at the text Aaron had sent last night. I laughed as Mason read me the much less dramatic but passive aggressive yet somehow flirty texts Eva had sent him, which included an official invitation to brunch with their friends on the resort’s beachside terrace.
We decided to go.
We were already seconds from going home, so it seemed mostly harmless to stay a couple hours longer and at least try to achieve that moment of peace between the two couples. It was in Mason and my own interest too – to have Aaron out of our hair if we wanted to explore whatever bud of a real romance there was between us. So rather than make toward the helipad, we prepared ourselves for a truce over brunch with the soon-to-be bride and groom.
Mason kissed the back of my neck as he zipped me up into the nude dress he had purchased for me that day we ran into Whitney. Then perched at the edge of the bed, I watched him change freely in front of me, still struck from head to toe by his stone-carved magnificence. Amusingly enough, I wasn’t dreading going to brunch because I didn’t want to see my ex with his model fiancée. I was dreading it because I knew it would be torture for me to sit at least an hour without being able to crawl all over Mason and put my hands all over his body. Judging from how he pushed me against the wall and kissed me hungrily for several minutes before we let the room, he felt the same way.
Now that the seal was broken between us, we couldn’t get enough.
But we had all the time to explore each other once we got back to New York, and knowing that made my heart just about sing. I just needed to survive the next hour or two, and then I could have as much Mason Leo as I could possibly ask for – in my apartment, his apartment, his office, wherever.
And I couldn’t wait.
“Ready to go?” Mason asked, holding the door open for me. I laughed, adjusting the sweetheart neck of my dress and watching his eyes follow me out into the hall.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chapter Twenty
Considering the mess that was last night at the pool, it was almost hilarious to see all the same faces gathered around brunch this morning in their Sunday best. Rather than swim trunks and string bikinis, there were now linen shirts, pressed white pants and tea-length dresses. Matching were the bride and groom, Aaron wearing a striped pink tie over his white shirt to balance the rosy, crisscross halter dress that Eva wore painted to her lithe body. Her honey-colored hair was neatly pinned into a braided side bun that nicely complemented her razor-sharp jaw as well as the ladylike manners she’d polished for her pre-wedding brunch.
Of course, I saw flashes of that fiery temper she made famous in her viral video trashing Mason’s office. She had been perfectly cordial while greeting us, and even sweet to me by complimenting my dress, but it wasn’t long before Eva was peering over at me with rapidly declining politeness. She tried to hide the first few glances but as the meal went on – especially with Aaron staring at me on her left, and Whitney Decker whispering in her ear on her right – the green-eyed monster inched forward to rear her ugly head.
But it started small.
“Wow. You really finished that fast,” she smiled, interrupting the table’s conversation to point out my empty plate. It would be a possibly harmless remark from someone else, but there was no set of ears at the table that didn’t read between the lines of Eva’s words, especially since she let her gaze fall briefly to my stomach.
But while Mason was more than half to blame for my cleanly finished entree, I said nothing to defend myself. “It was delicious,” I returned her smile, taking a sip of my water. I waited for another remark from her but there was nothing and shortly after, the conversation returned to where the bridesmaids had purchased their dresses. So for the moment, I was in the clear.
“You’re a fucking champ, by the way,” Mason murmured in my ear, a laugh in his voice as he draped his arm over my shoulder. “You deserve a reward for sitting through this.”
“The plane ride home with you is reward enough.”
“I already know exactly what I want to do to you.”
I grinned as I smoothed the napkin on my lap. “You had the time to think about that already?”
“Vividly. Should I kick Sofia and Noah off our flight so we can have some privacy?”
“Maybe.” I slid my eyes across the table to Sofia but instead, I found Aaron. He had a blank look on his face as he watched me try to suppress my giggled. I averted my gaze, eager to be looking at anything else as Mason made me squirm with husky whispers of all the dirty, bad things he had in store for me. “Not now,” I scolded him in a giggle but it was too late – Eva had caught Aaron looking again and with both Leo brothers’ attention rapt on me, she was growing quickly livid.
“I do think it would’ve looked better on you,” she declared, sipping champagne as she stared at me. I was briefly confused until I realized that despite her dark eyes on me, Eva was talking to Whitney. Oh dear God. They were talking about my dress – the one I had been trying on when Mason and I put Whitney in her place. Reaching for Mason’s hand, I squeezed, letting him know that there might be trouble ahead – if not trouble, then at least some considerable bullshit.
“Everything okay?” he murmured under his breath, oblivious to the subtle put-downs slowly coming at me from down the table.
“I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully, waiting for the direct insult to hit. But it didn’t come and I was thankful for it because it wasn’t long before I found myself miraculously laughing in a conversation that included Sofia, Mason and Aaron. The dessert that came out was what sparked the nostalgia – a lemon meringue pie that naturally reminded Sofia of her attempt to make one for Thanksgiving last year. Her hand mixer had broken, so she wound up bringing her giant bowl of egg whites to dinner and passing it between Mason and Aaron to hand whip since they were “the strongest.” Of course, the giant bowl of egg white wound up divided into two – Aaron’s idea so he and Mason could each whip their own and see whose turned into meringue first.
“I think they bet like, one dollar. And Aaron was convinced he was done first even though we all said he wasn’t, so I told him to turn the bowl upside down over his head to test it,” Sofia snorted, preemptively cracking up at what happened next. Even Eva’s lashes were fluttering with curious amusement. She actually looked incredibly sweet when she laughed.
“Then what happened?” she asked.
“God, I don’t know, Aaron, what happened?” Sofia asked with her trademark sass. The entire table looked to him as he covered his face in shame for a second and then laughed.
“I knew I was wrong so I wouldn’t do it. But everyone wanted to test the meringue now, and all the nieces and nephews wanted to see what happened when the bowl got turned upside down, so I had to do it,” Aaron said. Then he grimaced and s
hook his head. “But my mom saw how much I didn’t want to get fucking egged in my nice clothes so she, uh… basically martyred herself and said, ‘Turn the bowl over me.’”
The table collectively gasped as Eva smacked him. “Aaron Leo, you did not!” she cried, scoring points with me for looking appropriately appalled. “Tell me you didn’t do that to the poor woman.”
Aaron dragged his hands over his face, covering it in pure shame. “I did,” he groaned, sending the table into uproarious shock and laughter. But before anyone could give Aaron too hard of a time, Sofia supplied the true ending of the story.
“But he was actually right and the meringue was done,” she said. “Aaron finally beat Mason at something, but he couldn’t even enjoy it because we were judging the shit out of him all night for throwing Aunt Clara in front of the bullet.”
Everyone was laughing hard. Even Mason was, but I bounced my knee under the table, fearful that Aaron might flip and switch and get offended by the ribbing. He was known to do that in the past but when I peered at him, he was surprisingly good-natured.
“Yeah… not my proudest moment and definitely nothing I plan to repeat,” he said, his grin fading to a slight smile as he turned to me. “I still remember how good it was though. That meringue? Sofia got lazy, big surprise, so Taylor finished baking it and God I remember it being the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Oh boy. I chewed my lip, one of several at the table who caught the tone in Aaron’s voice, and the faraway look in his eyes as he gazed at me another second before staring down at his plate. Giggling a second ago, Eva was back to being stiff. Her mouth was stretched into a tight, closed-lipped smile as she sat up so straight I practically heard her back cracking.
