The Fight Club - Boxed Set
Page 24
“Jenna. Look at me.”
She twisted her head to one side. Lifting it would be too much trouble.
When she made eye contact, he held her gaze while he pressed into her and left his thumb behind at the same time, the pressure on her clit maddening. He stroked her front wall. “Come, Jenna. Now.”
She blinked, but her vision blurred as she shattered. Her entire body participated in the orgasm, shaking with each pulse around his fingers. Her clit throbbed against his thumb, and he stroked her through the entire orgasm she thought would never end.
When she finally managed to concentrate on his face again, she found him still staring at her, a smile lifting his lips. “Beautiful, Jenna. So gorgeous. Do it again.”
What? She shook her head. No. You don’t understand. I can’t. In fact she was growing sensitive to his touch already. She squirmed to avoid the direct contact.
“I want to watch your pussy this time, Jenna.” He held her steady, pressing harder against her waist.
“I…” Her mouth was too dry. She licked her lips to no avail. “Mason, I can’t.”
“You can, baby.” He was so determined. She believed he could actually command her body to do his bidding whether his request was possible or not.
The sensitivity subsided gradually as he circled her clit again and stroked her inner walls. Whatever he did with his fingers brought her back to life in an instant. “That’s your G-spot, baby. Have you ever had a G-spot orgasm?”
She shook her head again. Not that she was aware of.
He changed his pace, grazing his fingers over a spot inside her that had been elusive until this moment.
Jenna moaned, an unintelligible sound she couldn’t control.
He tapped that spot, over and over, while her arousal grew back to full intensity in no time.
Wetness leaked from her pussy and ran down her crack. She was lost in the new sensation inside her channel. As Mason released her belly to gently pinch and roll her clit, she barely noticed when he reached one finger of his other hand to rub the stretch of skin running from her pussy to her ass. It felt so good. So fucking good. Whatever he was doing, she didn’t care, as long as he never stopped.
Her breath caught in her lungs when he suddenly breached her rear hole with his pinky. He slid his finger in so smoothly, using her own moisture to guide the way.
She wanted to protest, but she couldn’t move a muscle. Her mouth didn’t have any usefulness.
Her body jumped to attention. Her pussy gripped his fingers, and her ass tightened around his pinky. The forbidden feeling grew on her. It heightened the other sensations until all she knew was an intense urge to pee. She squeezed her pussy. No no no. Oh God.
“Relax, baby. It’s perfectly normal. Let it go.”
“No. I’m going to pee on you,” she blurted.
He chuckled. “No you aren’t. You’re going to come. Hard. That’s what it feels like.” He tapped faster, harder, against her G-spot. “Right here. Let it go, baby. Come on my hand, Jenna.”
The sensation built with his movements. Her need to pee grew incrementally. Was he deranged? She was going to embarrass herself to death if he didn’t stop now.
And then she lost it. All control vanished. The most freeing, liberating orgasm she’d ever felt swept through her pussy. She gushed onto his hand. She didn’t care. All she knew was overwhelming peace as she squirted onto his palm over and over.
“That’s it, baby. God that’s hot. You’re precious.” He eased off slowly, pulling his pinky from her rear and his fingers from her pussy until he soothed her sex with his hands as she came down from so high she might as well have taken drugs to get there.
She was so heavy. More relaxed than ever. And he hadn’t entered her yet. How the hell was she going to be any good to him now?
“See, you didn’t pee.”
“Really?” she muttered. Sure seemed like it to me.
“Nope. That’s female come, baby. It happens when you have a deep G-spot orgasm.”
She hoped he wasn’t shitting her. She barely cared.
It felt so fucking good.
“Don’t move.” He stepped away toward the sink, rummaged in a few drawers. The water came on. It ran a moment. He returned. “Wet cloth. Hopefully it’s warm enough.” He set the washcloth on her and blotted her skin until he was satisfied. “Better?”
She nodded. It felt amazing. He was so caring, so fucking considerate. Always.
He came to her side and lifted her easily into his arms. Her entire body ached, and she moaned into his chest. His still-clothed chest. Even her arms hurt from straining to hold them above her head.
He kissed her temple. It occurred to her he hadn’t kissed her on the mouth. She couldn’t move to look at him, though.
He carried her down the short hall and into her bedroom. He managed to flip on the light with one hand. With all the tenderness in the world, he set her on the bed and pulled the covers over her body.
Her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She gazed at him through the slit. He kneeled beside her and kissed her fingers. “I’m going to lock the door on my way out. Do you need me to set your alarm?”
What? Her eyes opened farther. “You’re leaving? You…I…”
He grinned. “I promised Rafe I would keep my pants on. And the only way I can keep that promise is to leave now.”
“But… Seriously?” She struggled to pull herself up and failed. “You can’t just…”
He grinned broader. “I can. I did.” He kissed her forehead. “That was the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you, Jenna. Truly.”
“But you didn’t…” She couldn’t seem to finish a single sentence.
“It’s okay.” He tweaked her nose. “I got it.”
He’s got it? Oh. Oh.
“Go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at the altar.” He stood and backed away, still gazing at her with lust in his eyes.
He turned the light off as he left the room, and she heard every noise as he let himself out, including the rev of his engine as he pulled away from her apartment. After that, she couldn’t hold her eyes open another minute. Sleep dragged her under.
Chapter Four
Mason reached his house in record time. His dick was so hard he thought he’d have to pull over and jerk off on the side of the road. But he made it. As soon as he had his car in the garage and the door closed, he bolted into the house and headed straight for his bedroom.
That woman had him in knots. She was gloriously perfect in every way. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. Before today, women had just been women. Sure, he’d had a steady stream of willing partners, but none he went after himself. He’d never had to. Apparently women liked his physique. It stupefied him, but whatever.
Mason kicked his shoes off with his feet and tugged off his pants, the ones that had been too tight for so many hours now he’d lost count. He shrugged out of his boxers and whipped his shirt over his head.
The second he gripped his dick in his palm, he nearly came. He’d been so close for so long, it wouldn’t take much to get himself off. And he knew once wouldn’t be enough. Not after what he’d witnessed from the sweetest dainty pale frame he’d ever held.
He hadn’t kissed her. Had she noticed? He’d known he couldn’t and keep his promise to Rafe. One touch of her lips on his and he’d have gone off the deep end, lost his mind.
Instead, he’d controlled his growing lust, barely, and watched his woman as she came completely undone twice before his eyes. He hadn’t meant to do it the second time. But when he witnessed her reaction and realized she wasn’t completed, he couldn’t resist. And the added bonus—he’d been the first to make her orgasm from her G-spot. What a gift.
Mason squeezed his cock hard and breathed through the memories. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he released his tight grip and stroked himself up and down his length.
So goddamn hard and tight, it was a wonder he hadn’t n
eeded an ambulance.
He grabbed the doorframe between the bedroom and the bath, unable to make it another step in any direction. He faced the bathroom in the dark, his eyes closed as he relived every second of his evening while stroking his dick up and down, a furious pace he couldn’t stop.
It didn’t take long. Before he could stop it, he came, squirting in long jets onto the bathroom tile. His cock jerked with every pulse. Harder than he could remember. He came with visions of Jenna’s sweet pussy in his mind. The way her mouth dropped open and she gasped for air when she reached her peak. So pure and innocent. Her expression had amazed him. Nothing about her was a fraud.
Spent, he sucked in a deep breath. He leaned hard against the wall and waited until his legs would move to reach for a towel and wipe up the floor. He used the light of the moon streaming in the window, not bothering with the switch on the wall. He knew his house well enough. It wasn’t necessary.
He leaned on the counter, brushed his teeth, and stumbled toward his bed as though drunk.
“Holy hell,” he said aloud into the silence. “What has that woman done to me?” He wiped a hand down his face and relaxed into the mattress.
He was fucked. Sure, technically he hadn’t taken his pants off, but there was no way in hell he could keep a straight face in front of her at the wedding. She’d rearranged his brain cells in one day and left them scattered. It would be a wonder if he could make complete sentences by tomorrow. If he looked her in the eye, he would never be able to hold his composure. All he would see would be her mussed hair and glazed expression as she came for him. Hell, she came at his command.
She hadn’t just come, she’d stripped for him and followed every direction he’d given her.
He groaned and turned over, trying to get comfortable.
He hadn’t done anything so vanilla for years, though he was certain she would describe the experience as anything but vanilla. For him it had been. Other than directing her verbally to do his bidding, he hadn’t used any sort of restraint or toy on her body at any point. He hadn’t swatted her skin anywhere. He’d enjoyed the redness brought on by her embarrassed flush, and that had been enough for him. For the first time in years, he hadn’t needed that extra edge to get a woman off or raise his own ardor.
“I’m so fucked,” he muttered into the pillow.
He’d been involved in BDSM for over five years. At thirty it was a way of life for him. He’d had many willing partners at the club he belonged to, some he’d even had exclusive relationships with on occasion. He’d never brought someone home. Actually, he realized, it had been a while since he’d fucked a woman.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he’d been so bulldozed by Jenna because he hadn’t gotten laid in some time. Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Half the time when he was with a woman at the club, they didn’t end up having intercourse. His passion was domination. That didn’t always equate to sex. His rocks got hard when he controlled a woman, but he didn’t always fuck her in the end. Sometime he handled it himself at home later, and sometimes his dick went down by then and he let it go.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to fuck a woman as bad as he’d wanted Jenna tonight. No, that wasn’t entirely correct. He’d wanted to make love to her.
And behind his lust, one thought niggled in the back of his mind. “She has baggage. A lot of baggage,” Rafe had said.
He groaned again into his pillow. So, so fucked.
»»•««
Jenna awoke to an incessant buzzing sound that wouldn’t stop. She pulled her pillow over her head and tried to block out the noise.
It didn’t work.
She flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Phone. The idea registered slowly. Wedding. Shit. Jenna scrambled out of bed and then paused when her feet hit the ground. Her entire body ached. She groaned as she took a step toward the bathroom. When she stopped in front of the mirror, she was shocked.
She looked…awful. “Just fucked” wasn’t a good look on her. Judging by the dim light coming in the window, it was early. She’d slept hard with no memory of moving since… Her eyes shot open wider. Mason had tucked her into bed and left her there—totally not fucked.
Tousled hair and sleepy eyes weren’t on the menu for the day.
Jenna flipped on the shower and padded toward the living room totally naked to grab her purse and retrieve her phone.
She smiled when she saw the missed call from Katy and hit redial.
“You’re up,” Katy declared as though this were the greatest thing she’d ever learned.
“Apparently.”
“Well, get over here. I can’t do anything without you. I’m wandering around picking things up and setting them back down at random. My mind won’t work.”
Jenna laughed. “I’m on it. Mocha latte?”
“Yum. You’re the best. See you soon.” Katy hung up.
Jenna jumped in the shower and was dressed and ready to go within fifteen minutes. She didn’t need to do her hair or makeup this early. They had appointments for everything throughout the day.
She grabbed the hanging bag with her dress in it, the box with her shoes, and her makeup kit and was on the road before she could deliberate over what had happened last night in her kitchen.
In fact, she avoided that room altogether. She’d pick up muffins with their coffee. There was no rule that said breakfast had to come from anywhere near that island in the kitchen. Just glancing at it made her flinch.
How had Mason managed to totally debase her in her own home without taking off his shirt? Ugh.
A half hour later, Jenna precariously balanced everything in her arms, using her chin to support the coffee as she stepped up to the front door of the house Katy had lived in with Rafe for five months. Rafe wouldn’t be there. He’d stayed with one of the groomsmen last night to support Katy’s sense of tradition.
The door flung open, and Katy beamed at Jenna before she could reach for the knocker. Good thing too, since Jenna couldn’t quite picture with what part of her body she was going to knock. “You’re here.”
Apparently. The woman was overly chipper. It was her wedding day, however, so she deserved to smile broad and giggle a lot. Jenna needed about another hour and this steaming cup of coffee before she could catch up. Mornings were not her friend.
As soon as she set everything down on the kitchen table, hooking the dress bag over a chair, she turned toward Katy and smiled. “So what’s first? After the coffee I mean.”
Katy ran off a list of the morning’s exciting lineup. Nails, hair, makeup, flowers. “What time do you have to be at Ribbons and Bows?”
“My employees will handle most of it, so I can be with you. But I’ll need to stop by later this morning and make sure they have everything under control. And I’ll pop into the church when they’re setting up to supervise.” Jenna’s hand shook as she reached for her coffee. She was yammering about flowers, but her mind was fixated on one thing—Mason.
Katy narrowed her gaze at Jenna and stepped closer. “Oh. My. God.” She circled Jenna, her gaze roving up and down Jenna’s body.
Jenna glanced down and smoothed her T-shirt over her favorite comfy jeans. It wasn’t like they needed to be dressed to the nines this morning. What was the matter? “What?”
“You totally fucked him, didn’t you?” Katy put her hands on her hips and lifted her gaze to Jenna’s. “You did. I can’t believe it.”
Jenna shook her head in denial, but her face heated to explosive territory.
“Don’t try to deny it. It’s written all over your face, and you haven’t made eye contact with me since you entered the house.”
Jenna did so now. She landed her gaze directly on Katy’s and tried not to squirm under her best friend’s scrutiny. How had she ever thought to get away with so much as touching that man?
“Why? I told you to keep your hands to yourself. Mason isn’t your type. He’s going to hurt you.” She shook her he
ad in disappointment.
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t try to lie about it. I know you like a twin knows her sister. Fess up.” She cocked one hip out to the side and tipped her head, narrowing her gaze.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like, exactly?” Katy held up a hand. “On second thought, no details please.”
Jenna chuckled, but it sounded strained. “He was a perfect gentleman.” If by gentleman you mean a man who manages to hypnotize his impromptu date and lures her down a path of debauchery. All while keeping his clothes on…
“Right.” Now Katy laughed, hard. “The day Mason is allowed that noun in the same sentence with his first name is the day I peel my clothes off and run down the street stark naked and raving mad.”
He could probably convince you to do so, actually. “What I mean is,” Jenna nibbled her lower lip, “he didn’t fuck me, at least not with his cock.”
Katy leaned in. “Pardon?”
“Do we have to discuss this now? It’s your wedding day. Let’s make it all about you and leave my weird evening for another time. Huh?”
Katy shook her head. “No way. Spill. Explain yourself.” She pulled out a chair, sat, and grabbed her coffee, leaning back to enjoy the saga.
Reluctantly Jenna did the same opposite her friend, kicking herself for being such an open book. “Don’t get me wrong. I wanted him to. By the time we got to my apartment, I was a ball of need, and I couldn’t have cared less who warned me off him. I wanted that man between my legs more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Katy grinned. She was losing her anger. “So what happened?”
“So he…cast a spell on me, I guess. There’s no other way I can possibly describe how he managed to get me to strip for him.”
“You did a strip tease?” Katy leaned forward on her elbows, intrigued.
“No. Nothing like that.” Or maybe, yes, everything like that. “He’s very—controlling, demanding. Ya know?”
Katy rolled her eyes. “Do I ever.” She didn’t elaborate, and Jenna let it go.
“I guess I did…sort of. I stripped anyway, and he scrambled my brains with his intense stare, his commanding words, and his talented fingers.” Jenna closed her eyes at the memory.