Page 171 of Promise Me Not

A second fingers pushes in, and I cry out, shaking when he takes my hands and places them over my own breasts.

“Play, baby,” he murmurs, and then his other hand joins the first between my legs.

His fingers pump rhythmically slow and perfectly in sync with the way he rubs my clit. Before I know what I’m doing, my palms are squeezing my own breasts.

I squeeze hard, and then my knuckles glide along my nipples. I moan, so I try something else, twisting them, gently at first, but when the sensation mixed with Mason’s work between my legs sends sparks of heat down my spine, I do it harder, tugging, and my body quakes.

“Did my girl find something new she likes?” He kisses my neck.

“Y-yes.”

“Do you want to come now?”

“Please.”

“Okay, baby.” He shifts. Another finger presses into me, and at the same time, he pinches my clit, hard, and heat erupts, bursting and spilling through me.

“Mason,” I moan, my body thrashing in the water.

His name from my lips has him groaning into my ear. He bites down, and a second wave crashes through me.

He lets me ride it out, his breathing heavy in my ear, a tempting, tortuous sound I want more of. It’s raspy and thick, heady. He’s sure to leave his lips right there, pressing against my pulse, and when he sucks, I squirm some more.

He’s so hard beneath me, and if I move just right…

Mason’s arm locks around my stomach, holding me still. “I don’t think so, baby. I told you. I’m in charge right now, and right now I say it’s all about you.”

“But it would be for me.”

“No.”

“I want you, Mase,” I beg.

He hums in satisfaction, sitting up higher in the water and taking me with him. He curls over me, shifting and taking my shin in his hands. His lips take mine in a slow, methodical movement that has my every muscle going limp in his arms. It’s like a slow dance of tongues, and I reach for more when he gently tugs away. “You’ll have me, but I need this first. Can you give me what I need, baby?”

God, his voice drips with sex, and my thighs are clenching all over again.

His deep chuckle tells me he knows, and then he’s squirting soap into his hands, gently messaging my shoulders, his rough fingers drawing across my collarbone and down to my breasts. He teases my nipples, softly and then roughly, before abandoning them altogether.

Mason washes every part of me he can reach, kneading my scalp and rinsing us with a new wave of steaming water.

I’m a moaning mess at his mercy, and he seems to be living for every second of it, relishing the fact that he’s making me feel so good. “You’re really good at this.”

“This is just the pregame warm-up.”

A low laugh leaves me, his cocky response just as hot as his dirty whispers. “So are we warming up for the kickoff?”

“Nah.” He shifts, crawling out from behind me so his big body is now hoveringoverme. “We’re headed for the Super Bowl, baby, and watch me bring it home.”

He slides backward, his biceps bulging as he grips the edge of the tub near my head, his gaze dropping to my chest.

I lift it higher for him, my eyes locked on his as he skates his lips across my wet flesh. His teeth come out to play again, scraping along my nipples, and he smirks up at me as they stand to attention, begging for more.

“You’re blushing, baby,” he rasps, one hand leaving the tub to grip my hip with a tender squeeze.

“You love that, don’t you?”

“You bet your ass I do.” He kisses my stomach. “I wonder how many shades of pink I can get your skin to turn.” Mason lifts my lower half from the water, sitting back on his knees, and if I was blushing before, I’m a tomato now.

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