by Fox, Ella
I understand his point—the entire day had been a blur to me. I can’t overstate just how stupid I felt when I’d overheard him talking to Garrett. I’ve spent the last few months mentally berating myself for being foolish enough to catch real feelings for someone who was only dipping a toe into dating.
“Things didn’t add up, but you were so insistent on having a clean break that I started believing you meant it,” he continues. “Once I got my head out of my ass, I realized the reason it all came out of left field was that you hadn’t been planning to do that. If you hadn’t heard that bullshit, we’d still be together, wouldn’t we?”
He stares at me expectantly, and I know he needs me to confirm or deny his theory. Taking a deep breath, I weigh my answer. Either I can blow the question off or I can tell the truth. The question is, can I trust him enough to let down my guard again?
Chapter Four
“You’re right,” I concede. “The decision to break things off was made after I heard you on the phone with Garrett.”
The look of extreme relief on his face warms my heart. I’m afraid to hope for anything good here, but knowing that he cared enough to think things out is a balm for my soul. I hated feeling disposable.
“The past eleven weeks were shit,” he says gruffly. “I was edgy, short-tempered, and according to Garrett, unreasonably demanding.”
As he speaks, he rises from his chair and comes to stand in front of mine. “Would you like to know why that was, Rory?” he asks as he crouches down.
I swallow nervously and nod my head. Staring into my eyes, he sets his hands on my knees. Even through the fabric of my pants, the heat from his touch is blazing.
“It was because I missed you,” he says as he starts sliding his hands up my legs slowly.
“You did?” I ask.
“Every minute of every day,” he answers. “I missed your smile, your laugh, the way your hair would fan out across my pillow, the scent of your skin, and the enjoyment you get from Sudoku puzzles. I missed the way you drop everything to watch Big Brother because Carly needs you to talk out every episode with her the second it’s over. I even missed how you pour a gallon of creamer into every cup of coffee and the fact that you carry around dryer sheets to put in your shoes when you take them off for the night.”
“God, Mason, I had no idea,” I whisper, my heart beating against my chest like a set of butterfly wings at hyperspeed. I’m blown away by his words, but I’m also considering tackling him to the pavers because his hands are at the top of my thighs and I’m dying for him to do something more.
“I should’ve let you know all that before. I see that now, I do. But you’d have had some idea if you’d have answered your phone or read any of your emails over the last eleven weeks,” he says, his voice tight. “We wasted all this time in limbo because we didn’t talk it out the way we should have. If you’d just told me what you heard, all of this could’ve been avoided.”
“I was…”
I swallow nervously before I take a deep breath.
“I was scared,” I admit. “Overhearing that small bit of the conversation made me think we’d never been on the same page.”
“We were always on the same page, angel. I’m hoping that’s still true now.”
“Now?” I parrot.
He rises quickly and helps me up before wrapping me in his arms. It’s like coming home after a long absence, the warmth of his arms around me so comforting I melt.
“Yes, now,” he says huskily.
I shiver as he leans in and brushes his lips over mine.
“Tell me you’re still mine,” he murmurs.
Eleven weeks without him and nothing has changed. I’m still putty in his hands. I was too tentative before. If we’re going to have a relationship based on trust, I have to let him know how I feel. I also need to be more specific about what I’m thinking and feeling.
“I need you to tell me something first,” I murmur.
“I’m yours,” he replies with absolutely no hesitation. “I haven’t so much as looked at another woman in the entire time we’ve been together, Rory. You have nothing to worry about. I’m all in with you.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “How did you… I mean… I didn’t even say…”
He lets out an amused sound. “That is what you were going to ask, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“I hear what you say with more than just my ears now.”
I don’t get to ask what that means since he chooses to lay a kiss on me so decadent, my knees go weak.
I’m vaguely aware that he’s lifted me up and is carrying me somewhere, but since he doesn’t stop kissing me, I don’t focus on it. He lays me down on something flat and then settles over me, his muscular body right against mine. I pull away for a few seconds to see that he’s taken us to a round outdoor chaise, the padding thick and comfortable. Honestly, I wouldn’t care if he’d set me down on the pavers. He takes my mouth again, and the need in his kiss makes me desperate.
I clench my thighs at his sides and arch against him. He groans and grounds against me, and I shiver when he slips a hand beneath my soft sweater. I whimper at the feeling of his hand on my skin, the warmth rolling over me in waves. I suck in my stomach when he traces his fingers around my belly button. He does it several times before his hand continues its journey up toward my breasts. He makes a sexy sound as he cups my lace-covered breast and traces his thumb over my pebbled nipple.
Tearing his mouth from mine, he smiles down at me. “You want to know what else I missed?” he growls.
I bite my lip and nod.
“I missed how sensitive these perfect fucking tits are.”
As he speaks, he pinches my nipple through the lace. Gasping, I arch against him. He chuckles harshly as he repeats the motion, my nipple tingling from the pleasurable sting of his pinch.
“Have your pretty little nipples missed the way I tease them?”
I clench my legs against his sides as I nod. I never knew just how sensitive my nipples were before Mason came along.
“Take off your sweater and show me how you played with them while I was gone,” he says gruffly.
I nibble my lower lip nervously and look around to see if the neighbors have a view. “Is it private enough out here?”
“I’d murder a motherfucker before I’d ever let them see what’s mine. It’s safe, angel. There are eight-foot walls all the way around,” he assures me.
When I nod, he sits up and then helps me do the same. The look of lust on his face takes away any nerves, so I quickly pull my sweater up and over my head. I then fold it before setting it off to the side. Looking up, I find Mason watching me like a hawk, his jaw clenching like something is bothering him.
“Did you fucking wear this for your date?”
Chapter Five
I frown as I look down at the plum-colored lace bra he’s currently glaring at like it shit in his Cheerios. Only now do I realize I’m wearing one of the bra and panty sets he bought me from Agent Provocateur. Mason has a tendency to shred underwear, hence the gifting of the lingerie.
“Ew! No. Jesus, Mason. I don’t make a habit of showing my dates my bra on the first…” I wince and trail off when it occurs to me that Mason and I had sex on our first date.
“Like I was saying, I don’t make a habit of it. I was with two other guys before you, and there have been none since. Besides, that nightmare with Ham tonight was most definitely not a date.”
He blows out a breath of obvious relief. “It wasn’t?”
I shake my head. “No. Carly harassed me like a maniac until I caved and agreed to go. Supposedly, he was a really nice guy who needed emergency assistance to feel comfortable dating. Not sure what level of hell she got him from, but the bottom line is I wasn’t there to be romanced. When you snapped about it being a date, the only reason I didn’t immediately disabuse you of the idea was my pride.”
“Angel,” he groans, “I hate that the last eleven weeks even happene
d.”
“Me too. The good news is, Carly’s machinations got us back onto the same page pretty much as soon as you got home. The bad news is, she threw me under a bus to do it.”
I see the moment he realizes what I mean. “Jesus, she fucking set you up with that psycho just to fuck with you, didn’t she?”
I narrow my eyes as I think of what she set me up to endure when she sent me off to meet Ham. “She definitely knew he was a dick, but I doubt she knew he’d go after me the way he did. Still, she’s going to pay for subjecting me to that shit show,” I vow.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you’re pissed,” he growls.
I raise a brow and give him a look. “Oh, are we back to sexy times?” I joke. “I was afraid the mood was effectively killed when you got all territorial about my bra.”
“The thought of you wearing lingerie for another man definitely fucked with my head,” he admits.
I could give him more shit, but I get it—especially since I spent the last eleven weeks wondering if he’d move on within hours of arriving in Italy. He’s hot, smart, and rich, so it’s not like women don’t fall all over themselves to get to him. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes on more than one occasion.
“When I put this on earlier, it was just for me, but I guess now it’s for you too,” I say, my voice husky.
The expression of desire on Mason’s face overrides all thought of the crappy start to this night.
“It’s perfect. I’ll like it even more when it’s no longer covering you,” he rasps.
I hold his gaze as I reach behind me and undo the clasps. When they’re free, I move my shoulders so the straps slide down my arms. I make a production of taking the bra off the rest of the way before I playfully toss it at him. He catches it one-handed, chuckling huskily as he lifts it to his nose. “Lemon verbena,” he murmurs. “I fucking love the way you smell. At the end of every miserable fucking day in Italy, I’d hole up in my suite, take out your black scarf, and fuck my hand while I thought back to all the ways I’ve taken you. My assistant thought I was losing my shit when I made him get me a bottle of your perfume from L’Occitane during the fourth week of the shoot. I didn’t tell him that I needed it to spray the scarf because your scent had faded.”
My breathing is elevated and my nipples are harder than ever. “You took my scarf?”
He nods. “I found it tangled up in my sheets the night you left. Do you remember why it was there, angel?”
I nod, knowing my cheeks are hot enough to fry eggs, and not from embarrassment. I’m hot all over remembering the last time we were together. We’d gone to the movies, and when we got back, Mason had used my scarf to pull me toward him.
“How would you like to tie my hands and have your way with me?” he’d asked.
What followed was one of the hottest nights of my life.
“I revisited the way we were together in my fantasies each night,” he rasps. “Did you do the same, angel?”
I lick my lips before answering, “Yes.”
“Start with your tits and show me how you made yourself feel good,” he growls.
My heartbeat is so loud I feel it thundering in my ears. Lifting my hands, I cup my breasts, watching his face as I use my index fingers to trace slow circles around both nipples. I take my time, stoking the fire inside as I play with nearly every part of my breasts.
“Lick your thumb and forefinger and wet your nipples,” he orders, his eyes hot on me.
I shiver as I comply, my peaked nipples tingling as a soft breeze cools the small bit of moisture I’ve left on each nipple.
“Now pinch,” he murmurs.
I let out a breathy sound as I gently pinch my nipples, my back arching as the pleasure zigzags through my body. I keep playing with them, enjoying the way my clit throbs with each touch.
“Stop.”
I whimper as I take my hands away from my breasts, my nipples tingling in a way that makes me want more.
“Are you wet?” he asks, his voice thick with need.
“So wet,” I whisper.
“Then take off the rest of your clothes. Everything,” he rasps, “including your panties. I want to see how wet your little cunt is.”
My movements are clumsy, making the process of taking off my shoes, pants, and panties slower than it should be. When I’m naked, Mason stands so that he’s looking down at me. “Lie back and spread your legs wide.”
Even with the breeze, my body feels as if it’s on fire. Lying back, I bend my knees and spread my legs. Mason’s eyes darken as he looks at my body.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says. “Spread your lips and show me that honey.”
I gasp softly as I reach between my legs with my right hand and spread the way he told me to.
“Look at that,” he murmurs. “Wet as fuck already and we’ve not even really started. What’s coming next is going to make you wild. Spread your honey around and rub your pussy—everywhere but the hood of your clit.”
I whimper as I slide my middle finger up and down my sex, careful to stay away from the hood. “Good girl,” he praises. “Is this what you’ve done when you’ve been in bed alone each night, angel? Did you fuck your little pussy with your fingers?”
My clit throbs with need at his words. Looking into his eyes, I nod.
“One finger or two?” he asks.
I let out a whimper as my hips rock up of their own accord. “Two.”
“Show me, angel. Fuck that little cunt for me.”
I’m so wet it’s nearly painful. I gasp when he drops to his knees on the lounger and places his hands on my knees, pushing them open even farther. I feel like a pagan offering, displayed for his pleasure, and it’s a hell of an aphrodisiac. I keep my eyes on his face, watching him watch my sex as I slide two fingers into my aching pussy.
As I’m thrusting in, he pushes my knees back, which causes my hips to tilt. “Oh fuck,” I gasp, shocked by the riot of sensation his movement creates.
“Don’t go slow,” he orders. “I know how hard and fast your little cunt likes to be fucked when you’re this hot.”
His use of the grip he has on the back of my knees to rock me up and down is everything. I shamelessly fuck myself faster, gasping as he matches the speed of my movements.
“Did you call my name when you came?”
I nod. “Yes,” I admit, my voice a husky gasp.
“Every time?”
“Yes,” I say, this time more forcefully.
“That’s my beautiful girl,” he praises, making my pussy clench hard around my fingers. I curse when he stops moving me and then drops his hand to my wrist, stilling me.
“So impatient,” he teases. “Don’t worry, angel. You’ll come plenty tonight. I stopped you because I want the first one to be on my tongue.”
He positions me with ease, moving me farther up on the chaise before he settles between my thighs, his shoulders holding my legs apart. The heat of his breath against my soaked sex makes me moan, but the feeling of his fingers spreading me open nearly sends me to the stratosphere.
“I couldn’t stop dreaming about your scent and taste,” he murmurs.
I don’t get a chance to respond because he wiggles his tongue over my clit, causing me to grow even wetter. My breath leaves me in a whoosh when he sucks my clit into his mouth, his tongue lashing the most sensitive spot with a precision that comes from hours spent in bed with me. He knows exactly what it takes to set me off, and he’s using that knowledge to rock my world.
Needing something to hold on to, I slide my fingers into his silky-smooth hair and hold on as he eats me out. “Fuck, angel, you’re so wet,” he groans when he releases my clit from between his lips. “I could eat your pussy for hours, but I need inside of you so fucking bad I can barely think. That means it’s time for you to come all over my tongue like a good girl.”
His hands grip my ass cheeks as he doubles down again, his tongue on a mission to make me come, fast. I bite my lip to keep from screaming
as he licks me with abandon, the sounds of his mouth on me making me that much wetter. When he sucks my clit back into his mouth and flicks his tongue over it at a rapid speed, I come apart. Uncaring of our surroundings, I hold on to his hair and thrust my hips up over and over, crying out as I come beneath his tongue. He works me until every possible ounce of pleasure is gone.
Letting go of his hair, I watch as he stands, moving quickly to shed his clothes. I shiver when I see his hard cock, and the knowledge of how good his thick and considerable length feels inside of me makes my clit throb.
“I need you, angel,” he growls as he comes down over me, settling between my thighs.
“I need you too,” I whisper.
“I missed you so much,” he says. “Never again, Rory. We’re together, and it’s more than fucking serious.”
I start to tell him I agree, but he’s rubbing the fat head of his cock at my opening, which is making it difficult to form words. He slides the tip in, just that much, and stops. I whimper, clenching him. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I run my hands up and down his torso. Sliding them back up, I stop at his nipples and tweak them. He shudders, his body surging into me another inch. I can tell by the way he’s breathing that he’s trying to gather his control.
Taking it as a challenge, I slide one hand between our bodies, down to the spot where we’re joined. I stare into his eyes as I rub a few slow, lazy circles over my clit before I reach down farther and spread my fingers over his cock at my opening. He groans and surges in another half inch or so. Pulling my hand away, I bring it up and trace my finger over his lips.
“Taste,” I murmur.
His eyes flare with heat as he opens his mouth and sucks my finger into the heat of his mouth. That quickly, he loses it. I gasp when he rears back and slams into me.
