wanted blessed relief and for the delicious ache to last forever.
God, he smelled right. Felt right. Tasted right. It was a thing her body had known long before her head caught up.
“Alex.” Her name was a growl. “You taste so fucking good.”
As if to prove his point, his lips skimmed her jaw and then latched onto her earlobe. His mouth was hot. His tongue was wet. When he sucked on her lobe, she would swear she felt the sensation much lower in her body.
Then his lips were on her throat, covering her pulse point.
Could he feel her heart racing? Could he sense the heat of her blood?
Her response was unintelligible, even to her own ears. Her words simply syllables of sensation. Syllables of need.
“Alex,” he said again, shoving her robe down over one shoulder so his mouth could continue its journey south.
“Mason,” she moaned again. Her voice dazed and dreamy. Not her own at all. “Please.”
This time she knew what she begged for. She begged for help with the sharp ache between her legs. She begged for the kind of pleasure she’d only ever dreamed of.
Maybe it was his vast experience, or maybe it was the way she writhed against him, her hips thrusting, seeking the smallest amount of friction, but whatever the reason, he knew. He knew what she needed and he obliged, the magnificent, marvelous man.
Nudging her knees apart, he found the slit in her robe and pressed his thigh high and tight against the junction of her legs.
She gasped at first contact. The material of his swim trunks wasn’t as rough as she would’ve liked. But she was so worked up, she knew it would do the trick.
Pulling his mouth back to hers, she welcomed the silky, hot glide of his tongue and reveled when he groaned, low and deep. One of his hands splayed wide over her hip, assisting her in her subtle but desperate thrusts against his leg.
She ground hard, the material of his trunks growing wet with her desire. Then the material pushed up and it was nothing but skin on skin. Hers was swollen and slick. His was hot and hairy. And this! This was the kind of friction she needed.
Just like that, she was close. She could feel it in her toes. Taste it on the tip of her tongue. That tingling, sparkling precursor to release.
“Fuck me, you’re wet,” he growled against her lips. “And hot.” His accent made the last word sound like hawt.
She could no longer speak. She’d been reduced to little mewling sounds as her body wound tighter and tighter. Higher and higher. As she squeezed her eyes shut and gave herself up to that singular sort of pleasure she’d only ever experienced alone.
This was so much better. Because she was sharing it with someone she cared about. Someone who knew how to kiss her. Knew how to touch her. Knew just what she needed.
She felt the instant he bared her right breast. The cool air in the room made her nipple furl so tightly, she hissed at the pleasure-pain of it.
“You’re beautiful, Alexandra.” There was reverence in his voice.
Without warning, he bent and sucked her nipple into the heated haven that was his mouth.
That was all it took.
A nuclear bomb went off inside her. She contracted. She expanded. She burned red hot and yet goose bumps erupted over her skin.
Pulsing white lights flashed behind her squeezed-tight eyelids. They quickly turned into multicolored fireworks that flowered and sparked as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. Washed over her. Lifting her up and pushing her down in an ever-slowing rhythm.
And then…it was over.
Not all of a sudden. But gradually her body became her own.
She could breathe.
She could think.
She could see.
When she opened her eyes, it was to find Mason’s gaze latched onto her face, his baby blues blazing with unquenched desire. The insistent pulse of him against her hip was proof positive she was the only one to have floated upon the blessed tides of release.
Undoubtedly, that was because she was new at this. She’d yet to learn how to stave off the inevitable.
She couldn’t make herself regret it, though. Especially because she was still a little drunk from it. Her bones liquid. Her brain a snarl of fried synapses. Her womb a shivery mass of remembered bliss.
In her drunkenness, she decided the world looked different from her current position, loomed over, caged by, overwhelmed with a man who was so close she felt as if they might