Page 103 of Freed By Fire
I can smell him from where I’m sitting, and every nerve in my body is aware of him, yearning for his touch. Ignoring the ache in my chest, I find Mason standing behind his desk, an empty glass clutched in his hand. His stormy eyes tighten when I look at him. Then, just as slowly, he reaches for the decanter behind him and pours a generous amount of whiskey.
Mason stares at me, and the rest of the world fades away.
When he looks at me like that, I almost forget how to breathe.
Mason steps out from behind the desk, and everything slows down as he crosses the distance between us. When he stops in front of me and places a hand on the armchair, my body hums with energy at the joy of being so close to him.
“Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
I blink and drag my gaze up to his. “What do you mean?”
Mason folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head to study me. “You’re in my office.”
I swallow and nod. “Yes.”
“Few people are allowed in here,” Mason adds. “I see I’ve underestimated your sway with Katia.”
“It’s not her fault.”
Mason raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure even you know that’s not true.”
He has the same look in his eyes as the day they brought me to him.
The same day my life was turned upside down.
Like nothing else, and no one else matters.
Mason knows how to silence me with one word, one touch, and all I want to do is throw myself into his arms and never let go.
“It’s good to see that you’ve come to your senses.” Mason pulls me against him, and I melt. “We’ll make the arrangements together.”
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “Arrangements?”
“For the baby,” Mason continues, pausing to push my hair back. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to my neck, sending shivers racing up and down my spine. “We’ll find them a good home, don’t worry.”
“Mason…” His mouth moves from my neck to my ears, and his hands dig into my waist. “I… oh… mmm, that feels good.”
“I’ll have the doctor set up a birthing room for you here,” Mason continues. “Or maybe you can go somewhere until it’s done.”
His fingers are flicking my nipples now, and I can’t think straight.
All I can think about is how much I want his hands on me, claiming every part of me.
He stops and lifts my shirt over my head. Then my breasts spill forward, and his mouth is on one nipple and then the other. A haze settles over me as I throw my head back. Suddenly, the desk is digging into my back, and I spread my legs for him. Mason settles between them and rubs himself against me.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
My fingers move to his hair, and I yank.
He peppers my flushed skin with more kisses until he reaches my neck again. Without warning, he grips the back of my neck, so I’m looking at him through hooded eyes. With a growl, his mouth descends on mine.
Suddenly, the past two days of ache and uncertainty don’t matter.
How can it when he’s kissing me like he needs me to breathe?
When he’s touching me like he’s starving?
Mason nips on my lower lip, and his tongue invades me, hot and unyielding. My grip on the back of his neck tightens, and I whimper. Waves of pleasure rise within me, erasing everything else until I’m clawing at his back and panting. He pauses to throw his shirt away, and I make another low noise as I touch his bare skin.
