Page 35 of The Real Mason
I raise my head and wait until her thick lashes flutter open. “See? Enthusiasm. That doesn’t seem too hard, does it?”
“No, Mason,” she says, oh so prim.
I treat the other breast to the same torment, loving every second of the sounds she makes. When I’m satisfied, I raise my head. “Aren’t you a good girl, keeping still.”
Unable to resist that mouth a second longer, I claim her lips in a ruthless kiss. Her tongue, no longer the least bit hesitant, thrusts forward to meet mine. I grip the back of her head, taking her mouth the way I intend to take her body.
A raw, dirty fuck.
Just as the kiss begins to spiral out of control, I pull away, and she nearly falls into my lap. I smile as she pants up at me with pink cheeks and a swollen mouth.
It sends the most primal lust surging thick in my veins. I swipe a thumb over her bottom lip. “You are gorgeous like this, Anna.”
Her mouth parts as though to speak, but I scowl, and the tension eases from her shoulders as her lips shut.
“Put your hands behind your head and lace your fingers together.”
Her breasts jiggle, enticing me as she obeys with uneasy, jerky movements.
“Good.” I rub the last remaining wetness from her nipples with my thumbs, enjoying the way her pupils dilate at my touch. “You’re very responsive.”
She bites her bottom lip, as though trying to contain her wanton excitement.
I shake my head. “That’s a lost cause. There will be no hiding from me. I want every single reaction. Understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice trembles.
I attach the clamp to one distended peak, moving the latch until she hisses. I watch her carefully, looking for signs of panic or extreme discomfort.
I don’t see any.
It’s becoming more and more obvious she likes pain. How much still remains to be seen, but based on her current reactions, I wouldn’t be surprised if her tolerance is plenty high.
She squeezes her eyes shut tight, and I check in. “Okay?”
“Would it matter if I said no?” she asks in a strangled huff.
“Quick learner. No, it would not.”
I mean, of course it does. I want her in that sweet spot—a little afraid, a lot excited—which is exactly where she seems to be.
I smile. “Open those eyes.”
She looks at me, revealing a glassy, aroused stare. I peruse the rest of her, taking in her breathing, her hard nipples. I reach between her legs and stroke her swollen pussy. “I’ll admit, I’d consider your argument if you weren’t dripping wet.”
She grits her teeth and says nothing.
I chuckle at her visible effort to repress whatever sassy retort hovers on her lips. She really is a quick study. I never dreamed I could take her this far this fast.
My hope is getting harder to ignore.
I repeat my actions on her other breast, securing the clamp and fiddling with the clasp until I have the desired tension.
Through it all she sits completely still, elbows back, keeping her position despite her distress. I test, giving the chain connecting the clamps a tiny tug.
She gasps and lets out a little moan.
I tug harder.
