It’s because I lost you. And … you’re kind of the most important person in my life.”
“Mase …” Denver’s raspy tone makes my cock harden, and suddenly, all the sex stuff doesn’t matter.
If he’s willing to be patient with me, then I’m willing to go outside my comfort zone for him.
Starting now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Denver
The moment Mason moves down my body, I’m keyed up and ready for it, but I don’t want to pressure him.
I lean up on my elbows while he gets to work on undoing my pants. “You don’t have to—”
“I know. I want to try.”
And try he does. Not that he has to try hard.
Being with Mason is unlike any of the hookups I’ve ever had. Every touch. Every sensation. I’ve never experienced that kind of intensity. My body yearns for it. It craves it.
I lie back on the couch and try to be as still as possible while he takes out my cock and gives a tentative stroke. I don’t want to thrust or move and scare him off. His breath is hot on my skin, his mouth not even an inch away from my dick.
When he finally lowers his head, it takes an insane amount of control not to come immediately. Mason starts soft and slow. He’s not so much teasing but testing it out.
With his mouth on me, it fills me with a weird sense of reassurance that he’s in this for real. Which is absurd because anyone can suck a dick. It doesn’t mean anything. But with Mason, it does.
It’s been obvious in the way we’ve been hooking up that he’s not one hundred percent comfortable with it yet. I give him a blowjob, and he jerks me off. I seem to be the one to take things to the next level.
But with this … Mason closes his mouth over the tip of my cock and runs his tongue over my slit. I leak precum into his mouth, and he moans.
“Is that a good moan or a bad moan?” I ask.
He pulls off me with a chuckle. “So good. I want to taste more.”
“Keep going,” I encourage. “I don’t think it will take long.”
Mason takes his time, only driving me closer and closer to the edge. His eagerness to please with his nervous energy somehow turns me on even more.
I resist the urge to thread my fingers through Mason’s hair while he works me over with his mouth. Instead, I grip onto the couch cushion for something to hold on to.
The wet slurps, the sight of his dark head bobbing up and down on my dick.
It’s too much.
I grunt in warning because I can’t seem to make my mouth form words.
If anything, that only spurs him on.
He sucks deeper, draws it out longer, and then does it again.
I grit my teeth, and my knuckles turn white as I tighten my hold on the couch cushion, and then all at once, my orgasm hits.
I shudder and gasp while I spill into Mason’s mouth. It’s impossible to rein it in. I let go, and my hips writhe.
Mason can only take so much before he pulls off me and strokes me through the rest of my release.
Cum hits my clothes, and I’m thankful for the Fandom wardrobe department making me change my on-air clothes each day before I leave the set. I do not want to be explaining that stain to the producers.
When my dick finally stops erupting, I sink back into the couch.
Then I hear a faint chuckle.
I can barely lift my head, but when I do, I lock eyes with Mason, and his laughter dies. “Something funny?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. I was just wondering what I was so nervous about. That was … I know I could use some practice but—”
“That was perfect.” I crook my finger to get him to climb up my body.
When we’re face-to-face, I smile and reach for his beard, rubbing away some of my cum. “Oops.”
“Yeah … you really got it in there.”
“Your fault.”
“It’s so not my fault I couldn’t swallow your entire load. There was a lot. Like a tidal wave of cum.”
“A cum-tsunami? A … cumnami?”
Mason laughs, but I cup the back of his head and bring his mouth down on mine. I don’t care if his mouth is covered in me. I don’t care if I can taste myself on his tongue. After that, I want to kiss him and hold him.
We stay like that for a while, kissing softly, taking each other in, until