more disheveled than his. My shirt was half off, and the skin of my chest was flushed and marked by Mason’s mouth. My skirt was bunched up around my waist, and my panties were soaked and twisted to one side. I still had my shoes and socks on too.
Mason dug into my top drawer, pulling out a small plastic-wrapped packet. When he turned back toward me, heat and something like regret flashed in his bright green eyes as he took in my appearance.
He kept his gaze locked on me as he set the condom on top of the dresser and reached for his tie, loosening it and tugging it off. His shirt came next, baring the toned muscles of his chest, abs, and arms. Then he kicked off his shoes and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs, shucking them in a deliberate movement.
When he was naked, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting downward. He was still hard, his cock standing out from his body, a slightly different color than the rest of his skin. Darker. The texture more smooth. I could see evidence of myself, of my own arousal, glistening on the velvety skin, and I bit my lip as my breath picked up.
“Dammit. I should’ve done this the right fucking way.”
Mason’s words were soft, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or me. But he didn’t look away from me as he grabbed the condom off the dresser and returned to the bed, crawling up to kneel near my feet.
I felt awkward, spread out so wantonly like this, my legs splayed open and my panties barely covering everything. But Mason didn’t seem to mind at all. The anger and tension that had vibrated beneath his skin for weeks was gone, replaced by a quiet intensity and something else I couldn’t quite identify. His green eyes sparked with an inner light as he picked up my feet, slowly removing first one shoe, then the other. He peeled my socks down my calves and slid them off too, gently massaging my skin in a way that made me start to squirm.
A small, satisfied smile crossed his lips, and he didn’t stop his slow, deliberate torture as he set my feet down, moving his large palms up my legs, stroking every inch of my skin before finding the zipper of my skirt and tugging it down.
Once my skirt and panties were gone, he moved on to my tie and button-down top, and unlike his previous frantic movements, which had sent several buttons flying, this time he took care with each remaining one.
It was fucking killing me.
Did he not know?
Did he not understand what his touch was doing to me?
How empty I felt without him inside me?
But I was pretty sure he did know—almost positive he felt the same way. He was breathing just as hard as I was, and his cock had only gotten harder, more angry looking. As he reached behind me to unclasp my bra, I slipped my hand down and stroked my palm over his length before wrapping my fingers around it.
I felt his whole body clench, felt tension return to his muscles. But it was a new kind of tension, one I wanted to wind up until it snapped, so instead of letting go, I squeezed a little harder, pumping my hand up and down.
He let out a choked noise, thrusting his hips hard into my touch.
When I did it again, he grabbed my chin with one hand, his nostrils flaring before he dropped his head to kiss me. His lips devoured me as he reached for the condom wrapper, only breaking away for a second to tear it open with his teeth.
Whatever he’d been trying to do, whatever he thought the right way was, he didn’t have the willpower to hold out any longer. He rolled the condom on with quick movements, and I was already reaching for him, digging my fingernails into his back as he plunged inside me again.
This time, he didn’t hold back.
I missed the feeling of his bare skin against mine as he moved inside me, hated having any barrier between us, but that thought was quickly swept away by the sensations gathering low in my belly, spreading out to fill every part of me.
It was hard and fast and exactly what I needed.
Mason had been teetering on the edge of control already, and through the connection between our bodies, I felt the