Page 41 of The Real Mason
“Fuck!” He groans the word and lengthens in my mouth. He taps my cheek. “Stop.”
It’s the last thing I want, but I let go, making sure to drag my tongue along the entire length and suction my lips tight. Savoring every last bit of him.
I blink at him.
“Sassy girl.” He twines a lock of hair around his finger before letting it fall away. “Stand up.”
Not at all graceful, I stand, and my knees buckle. He sweeps me up, and the room sways as he cradles me in his arms. “Okay?”
I nod, cuddling in close. How can a man be so dangerous and so safe at once?
He carries me to the daybed and places me gently on the mattress, the wine red velvet heaven on my sensitive skin.
The weight of the crystal tugs at my nipples, and I jerk as the pain shoots straight to my core.
He unhooks the weight and brushes his hand across my breasts. “I’m going to take the clamps off now. I think you’ve had them on long enough for your first session.”
I’m dismayed to feel a twinge of disappointment. “I’m okay.”
“It’s not your decision; it’s mine.” He tucks a curl behind my ear.
I open my mouth to argue, then snap it shut. What am I arguing about? Him torturing me more? That’s crazy.
He offers a soft, gentle smile. “I’m not even close to done with you, Anna.”
I feel undeniable relief. “Okay.”
He stands and strips off his jeans, watching me with a predatory gleam. He grips his cock and strokes along its length, his eyes heavy-lidded. Sensual. “I’m going to fuck you.”
In anticipation, I shiver.
“And I’m not going to hold back.”
His gaze holds mine, and I’m helpless to do anything but arch my spine in invitation. He reaches into the drawer and pulls out a condom, tearing the foil package with his teeth and rolling the latex over his shaft before sitting down next to me.
He plays with my nipple, rubbing a slow circle over the very tip.
The pleasure is so great, I keen.
He leans in close, his lips curling into a full-fledged grin. “Liking pain as much as you seem to, I think you’re in for quite a surprise when I remove these.”
“What—” But before I can say anything else, he releases the latch and removes the clamp. He quickly covers the bud with his mouth, his tongue laving the hard peak. Seconds later, a searing, tear-producing pain radiates through my breast.
I cry out.
His fingers strum over my clit.
From nowhere, an orgasm tears through me—so intense, so fierce that I scream as wave after wave of blinding pleasure makes my body buck and shake out of control. I rock into his hand, riding the waves of excruciating, exquisite joy.
Before I process the enormity of my reaction, he releases the latch on my other breast, his mouth moving with lightning speed and closing over the aching bud.
Another orgasm, more forceful than the last, dims my vision as the pain crashes over me. Another scream tears from my throat.
All propriety gone, I surrender, my hips pumping as the orgasm beats at me like the fiercest of storms.
Then he’s moving, covering me. The hard-muscled length of him makes me jerk as he shoves between my legs.
My thighs fall open, splay wide. With brutal force, he thrusts inside me.
