Mail-Order Brides For Christmas - Frankie Love Page 0,40
stops me with a groan as his head falls to my chest. “I don’t even want to hear you say his name.”
I smile then, not believing the control that I have over this brute of a man, my husband. “Me too, Mason. I felt the same way when I saw you. I wanted you to be mine.” I run my hands down his chest, between his legs, taking his girth in my hands. “I wanted you like this.”
He hisses, and his hips buck into my hand as I stroke him.
There’s fire in his eyes as he lowers to his knees and sits up, lining his hardness to my opening. For one brief second, I’m nervous. “Please be easy, Mason,” I ask him.
His eyes look at me as if he’s asking me a question, but before he even voices it, I tell him. “You’re my first. I was saving myself for my husband.”
Again, his head falls to my chest with a muttered “Fuck.”
He pushes into me gently at first, and he’s stretching me, filling me up. I know the instant he reaches my barrier. His fingers go to my clit again, and I’m still sensitive from my earlier orgasm, so it isn’t long before I’m ready again, and he pushes through, completely filling me up and taking me.
With each thrust, he whispers against me, “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
I want to reassure him and let him know that I am in fact his, but I’m half out of my mind with the way my body is responding to his. He moans against my neck, kissing me, and my senses are on overload. I can feel him everywhere and before long, I’m coming again.
He thrusts once, twice more, and then he’s grunting, filling me with his cum.
“Yes,” I moan.
Completely satiated, I lay listless and limp as he falls down beside me. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do afterward, so I follow my gut and curl into him, kissing his chest.
With his arms circling me, he holds me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don’t ask him to stop. I’ve never felt so safe, so cared for, or dare I say…so loved.
Chapter Nine
Mason
I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I keep telling myself it’s not real, but I’ve never felt anything so real as what I feel when I’m with Mia. We’ve been at the cabin for forty-eight hours already, and I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her.
The only thing that keeps me remembering that this isn’t real is thinking about that hug Mia shared at the airport with that Serge guy. Maybe she just wants to be with someone, it doesn’t matter who it is.
Today is Christmas, and I’m lying on the couch recovering from the big breakfast that we had. Mia loved the presents I got her, a soft blanket, a robe with Mrs. Mistletoe printed on the back, and the diamond earrings. Of all her presents, I think she loved the robe the most. Instead of putting it on, I’ve caught her staring at her name since she received it.
She gave me a beard kit, pajama bottoms, and homemade coupons offering back rubs, showers together and alone time. She took back the shaving kit and the pajamas as soon as I opened them because she decided she likes my beard and doesn’t want me sleeping in pants. Luckily, she let me keep the coupons, and I know I’ll be redeeming those very soon.
“Mason, did you do this?” she asks me, walking into the living room.
She’s holding up the picture I drew of her, but I’m not looking at it. I’m looking at her. She’s in awe of the portrait, and the way she’s looking at me cuts through my walls of defense like a tongue through whipped cream. I sit up, pulling her into my arms until she lands on my lap, and I cradle her there. “Yes. That first night when you were in the bath.”
She shakes her head, confused. “How? I mean, we’d just met, how did you do such a portrait without even looking at me?”
I should be embarrassed. I should just blow it off, but I can’t. “From the first moment I saw you, before I was even sure you were the one I was going to marry, I had committed everything about you to memory. You’re beautiful, Mia.”
“Oh, Mason.” She puts her hand on my chest as her face flushes a pretty pink.