Page 42 of The Real Mason
Another wave racks my body. I shake uncontrollably, battered by pleasure.
How is this possible? Me, who takes forever to come even once?
He pounds into me, bringing my surroundings back into crystal-sharp focus.
“Oh God!” I contract wildly around him.
“That’s right, lose control,” he murmurs, shifting to angle his cock deep.
He hits a spot. One perfect, mind-altering spot that sends shards of sensation through me. He grabs my wrists and yanks them over my head. Holding me tight, he plunges inside.
Over and over.
On and on.
Yes, this is what I need. That missing, niggling piece I’ve never known how to ask for. This is what I sensed when I met him, what had called to me—how we fit.
Holding me captive, he pinches my nipple. Hard.
Impossibly, I come again.
He hammers deeper. Harder. Higher. His cock fills me. Building that ache until need coils tight. Too tight.
I call out the words swelling in my chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, panting the words.
He increases his speed, and the waves of pleasure go on and on.
Freeing my wrists, he hooks my knees over his elbows and thrusts home, finding his own release.
As he collapses on top of me, every muscle in my body goes limp.
The world becomes a distant haze.
Mason kisses my lips. Soft, gentle.
More relaxed than I’ve ever been in my life, I’m unable to move.
He brushes a damp curl from my cheek, and I distantly hear the sounds of our labored breathing.
My head grows fuzzy. My eyes drift closed. I float along in a post-orgasmic cloud so blissful and soothing I never want to come back to Earth. I tremble when he trails his hands over my body.
Lids heavy, I manage to lift them open, feeling like I should say something.
Mason watches me with a love-filled gaze. “Just rest.”
Throat thick, my mind is so cloudy I struggle to put together a sentence. “I-I p-promised myself I wouldn’t scream.”
I hear his laughter, a happy, content sound, as if all is right in the world.
I manage a weak smile.
I’ve made him happy. Pleased him. That feels right. A soul-deep contentment drags me deeper toward unconsciousness.
He brushes a kiss over my lips. “That’s funny; I promised myself you would.”
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