Bidding For Her Curves - Flora Ferrari Page 0,29

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I’m almost convulsing by the time he’s done and taking me in his arms again, he carries me back to his bed and lays me down.

I want him to claim me. I really do, but after what he did to my body, all I want to do is lie down and sleep again.

Half-conscious after my orgasm, I still feel rippling through me, I watch him as he strokes my hair back and kisses my forehead before I doze off to the sound of him taking his shower.

Without me, but I still feel like he’s right here with me. The warmth between my legs is still radiating through my whole body and I smell his cologne on everything.

I’m not sure if I actually fall asleep but the next thing I know he’s sitting beside me again on the edge of his bed fully dressed and clean shaven.

The freshly minted version of Mason Thorne. New suit, different watch, and everything just perfect. Not even a hair out of place.

“I…” I try to say something, but he just smiles, pressing his finger to my lips and kissing me again.

“You take your time. Do whatever you want, however you want,” he says gently.

I sit up suddenly, wide awake now. I throw my arms around him and give him the biggest, hardest hug I can.

“I don’t know what happened to me,” I confess. “It’s like every time you do that I just…”

He holds me just as tight, telling me it’s alright. I know he understands about me taking it slow, but I’m worried now just how long I’m gonna keep him waiting.

I don’t want him to lose interest.

“We’ve got more than today, Jules. We don’t have to do everything in one morning,” he says in a husky tone.

I melt into him, wondering what I did to deserve such a man.

“When you feel like it, we can go get you some clothes, anything you want, no hurry though. I didn’t mean to weird you out before, I’ve just got somethings on my mind,” he tells me, making me feel a lot better about his reaction when I suggested I go get my own clothes.

“Do you want me to stay?” I hear myself asking, hoping I can cope if he says he thinks it best I go home after all.

But he only holds me tighter, gasping at the thought of me suggesting anything but staying.

“Of course I want you to stay. I want you, Jules. And I’m gonna keep telling you that until it sinks in, okay,” he says sternly, holding my face in his hands once he relaxes his grip on me.

“Even if I wanna wear track pants and a sweater?” I ask, grimacing as I look over his perfect suit and tie arrangement.

He’s a sharp dresser, no bones about it, and I can’t help wondering if he owns a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

He smiles. “Let’s go get your clothes. Whatever makes you feel better. And I’ll see if I can’t think of something more casual myself.”

He helps me out of his shirt and into the shower, promising to leave me alone only after he’s watched me until I get so self-conscious I shoo him away.

“I’ll be waiting right outside,” he says, and I can practically hear him pacing outside the bathroom until I’m done.

With a fresh robe that actually fits me, he bundles me up in it, and I can tell he wants to carry me but I insist on walking with him to the row of elevators I saw earlier.

“I used to keep cars up here, believe it or not,” he says, shaking his head to himself. “Until I figured out it’s just as easy to park them downstairs and get to them.”

In seconds, we’re in a garage full of brand new, luxury cars, with Mason opening the door for me to the one closest to us.

A big, black town car with dark windows and leather seats. That new car smell hits my senses as I get in, closely followed by Mason’s cologne.

I can tell straight away this is his day to day car.

“Nicholas usually drives me,” he says absently, starting it up.

“My personal assistant, he’s on vacation,” he informs me, easing my mind a little.

A male personal assistant?

It’s better than him having a female one.

“Nicholas has been with me from the start. He’s more like an uncle, a father figure really. Do you have any family?” he asks me.

I shake my head silently, keeping my eyes on Mason the whole time