Page 85 of King of Sinners

“Frankincense.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I like the lavender.”

“Lavender it is.”

I expect him to add it to the water but instead, he pours some into his hand, and then begins rubbing my chest with his lubricated palms. His touch is light, easy, it goes over my bruised skin without a bother and down my arm, actually easing some of the ache.

He does the other side and then his hand dips under the water, rubbing across my belly. He just gets to my pelvis, my body beginning to vibrate with anticipation when he shifts and begins doing my back.

On and on it goes, his hands soothing the aches of my skin and heating me until I’m ready to start begging again when he finally massages my behind, and then slips his hand between my thighs, rubbing the oil over my seam.

It both soothes my flesh and makes me moan in pleasure.

Very gently, Mason wraps an arm about my injured one, holding it against my body the way my sling had done.

“We’re going to go slow and careful,” he whispers in my ear. “I can’t have you hurt any more than you already do.”

I’ve never felt safer or more protected than I do in this moment, the oil soothing my skin, his touch making me yearn for more.

I’m wrapped in his strong embrace as he slides his hand over my sex again, his touch so slow and gentle, I give a whimper of impatience.

He smiles against my neck and then removes his hand.

A cry of protest falls from my lips and his smile grows as he adds more oil to his fingertips.

And then he dips his hand back under the water, sliding his freshly oiled fingers over my lips.

I arch into his touch, even as he holds my torso steady. I want more of everything he’s giving, but he keeps his movements slow and easy, the rhythm the sweetest torture until I’m ready to burst from my need.

And that’s when he softly lifts my pelvis to slide his cock inside me.

The oil has made me slick enough that it doesn’t hurt at all this time, in fact, he feels so good, I arch into him and tweak my arm the slightest bit.

At my mewl of pain, he goes rigid and still underneath me. “What hurt, love?”

“My arm. I just…”

He laces his fingers through mine, holding me against him as he works his hips, doing all the moving. I’m nearly immobile.

It’s a feat of athleticism I might marvel at if I wasn’t so busy feeling fantastic.

His cock presses on every point of pleasure inside me, the orgasm that’s been building makes my thighs shake with need.

And then he slides his free hand back over my sex, his middle fingers pressing against my clit.

I can’t hold it back as I cry out, exploding around him. But he’s not done…

He keeps pistoning in and out of me, his fingers sliding over my clit until my breath is completely ragged again.

I wish I could wrap my arm behind me and around his neck but being cradled like this is a fabulous second option as he holds my entire body suspended against his.

He’s making these grunts in my ear, his breathing rough as his heart thunders against my back and I know he’s getting close too.

I’m going to cum again and it’s a race to see which one of us will be first.

“Mason,” I beg, calling his name. “Oh God. Mason,” I’m gasping with pleasure, my eyes tightly squeezed shut.

He knows I’m close again and two more fingers press to my sensitive clit, making me orgasm for a second time as I scream his name.

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