Page 56 of I Choose You

I never realized how much I would like Mason’s jealousy.

Locks of dark brown comb through my fingers when he moves to my clavicle. He wrenches my protective gear to the side and covers my skin with his mouth. His teeth nip into me, and my words come out breathy. “You’re the only one that gets to do this.”

My confession ignites a fire in him. Without warning, my protective gear snaps back into place, and he positions his leg between mine. Our gear is bulky and bumps together, but it doesn’t stop me from noticing the hardness against my center, the strain in his pants rubbing against me. Screw this game. Paintballing isn’t my favorite hobby. Mason is. Mason is my new favorite, and I want to play until we’re both too tired to stand.

His rough and greedy lips move to cover mine. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth. The back of my head pushes against the sheet of wood behind us. We share a variety of animalistic moans and groans. Our tongues swirl together before he sucks mine into his mouth, hard.

He pulls back, longing in his gaze so strong that fire burns up his green irises. “Can I do something?”

I nod without thinking. I’ll take whatever he’s willing to offer. Anything.

The combination of his smirk with the smolder in his eyes is the hottest thing I have ever seen. He sees something he wants, and he’s ready to take it. Lucky for him, I’m more than willing to give.

The button on my jeans unclips. The zipper drags down. I watch as he rips his gloves off and tosses them next to our abandoned face gear. A finger dips into his mouth, and it shimmers in the light, glossy from his spit when he pulls it out. We’re about to cross a line. I know that. He does, too, and yet we both continue. Whatever waits for us on the other side of these walls can wait until later. We’re both too tangled in one another to consider the ramifications of our actions.

I kind of like it.

Going against what we should do to do what feels good in the moment. When we’re exploring each other, the background turns hazy. Too blurred to pay attention to. My fears disappear, and love and hope replace them.

His hand jerks my pants away from my waist, creating enough space for his hand to dive inside of them, pushing down, down, down until they breach my panties and find the most sensitive part of me. I whimper when wetness glides over my clit. His finger circles me with changing speed. First, he’s slow, then he picks it up, only to slow down again when a moan passes my lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so damn long.” He stops after gliding a finger over the tiny bud once more, teasing me. He presses a chaste kiss to my chin. “I wasn’t sure what would come from Layla’s dare…” Another finger joins and the pair of them move lower, slipping between my folds.

A needy growl leaves his lips. “Jesus Christ, you’re wet.” He moves down and applies pressure. “Can I? Please let me.”

I love that he asks for my permission. That he takes his time, making sure he’s not breaking who we are or what we were before all of this started. I nod quickly. “Yes. Keep going.”

It’s been so long since someone touched me so intimately. Since someone other than myself made me orgasm.

Two fingers push inside of me, pumping gently at first and coaxing an appetite in my belly and beyond. It’s like we’re out in the wild, trying to start a fire by rubbing two rocks together. He’s working toward that first sight of an ember, drawing me closer and closer while his fingers work me. His thumb moves over my clit as he pumps himself in and out. Nips and bites sting my lips before he sucks each of my lips into his mouth painfully slowly. All of this happens repeatedly.

And it drives me mad.

The need to let go builds, and my hips rock in time with his fingers. Just a little more, and I can let go. “Keep. Going.”

“Mm.” More kisses. Another paintball gun fires in the distance, indicating someone else might be out of the game, but I couldn’t care less. When he pulls out of me, his wet fingers move to circle against me. Over and over again, he loops, and I let go.

My body releases an intense blast of tingling, and it races from my spine to my toes. It surges through me, causing my body to quiver. The wave of pleasure makes my legs shake, so I grip onto a part of his gear to stay upright. Then the euphoria comes, and the intense delight lingers and consumes me.

I lazily blink after it passes. I’m sure my eyes gloss over with satisfaction and elation. There’s no doubt lust fills Mason’s after he presses a kiss to my lips.

He pulls his hand free from my pants. His other thumb finds my bottom lip and pulls it down. “Open your mouth.”

And I do, not exactly sure of what he’s doing until his finger, coated with my orgasm, slides over my tongue. It’s erotic, but I close my mouth and suck myself off his finger. It’s salty, sort of musty, with a hint of sweet that dies off as quick as I notice it. The entire time, he stares me down, eliciting another dip in my belly that tells me I’m ready for round two.

Neither of us cares to move from where we are or stop what we’re doing when another shot blasts in the distance. This game—our game—is much more stimulating and fulfilling.

Who would leave it for a silly game of paintball?

He licks what’s left on his finger. Then kisses me hard, plunging his tongue into me as soon as his lips touch mine. A deep, throaty moan spills into my mouth as he licks and sucks my tongue. He’s ravenous, acting like he’s famished and finally getting a meal.

He pulls away once satisfied and presses his forehead to mine. Our breaths are slow and wheezy. “Definitely worth giving up my gun.”

I smile, feeling the aftermath of what we’ve done. Mason Sacks finger fucked me on a paintball field. He gave me an orgasm while we were supposed to be playing the game. Makes me wish we were back at the house, so we could continue where we left off.

“I’ll give you a five second head start,” I tell him, pulling myself from the remaining arousal whirling in my limbs and switching back to the game.

He pulls back. “That’s generous of you.”

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