Page 52 of Choosing the right Man

“You’re so wet, baby. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Mason, I’m always ready,” I assure him.

He’s no longer taking it slow. Suddenly, his hands grip my hips, and he’s pushing me forward over the desk. I love all of the ways we make love, but this is probably my favorite. He’s able to sink so deep inside of me, and he pushes hard and fast.

Without warning, he thrusts hard, all of him slamming inside me. One thrust nearly makes me come right here and now.

“Yes, Mason! Harder! Faster,” I beg as I grip the desk.

“Yes, baby,” he growls as his fingers firmly grip my hips.

The only sounds that can be heard are our cries as he slaps against my ass, pushing deeply before pulling out and repeating over and over. The pleasure hits me like a tidal wave as he caresses my insides with his thick erection. He feels me coming apart, squeezing him, and he speeds up, then growls his pleasure as he empties inside of me.

We’re transfixed as we rise higher together before sinking back to reality. Then he pulls from me, and I can’t keep a whimper from escaping. This is the part I hate about sex. The incredible high followed by a moment of emptiness when ourbodies are no longer connected. For a moment before he pulls me into his arms, I feel so alone.

But Mason quickly lifts me, then walks to the couch and sits with me wrapped in his beautiful embrace. I lean into him, my head cushioned against his thundering heart. A smile rests on my lips.

“Stay with me tonight, Chloe,” he demands. I’m so tempted. All I want to do is spend an entire weekend with him where I can fall asleep in his arms. I love being with this man.

“I can’t, Mason,” I say with a sad sigh.

“You mean you won’t,” he corrects.

“Don’t do this, Mason,” I say, sadness suddenly filling me. “You’re the one who wants it this way.”

His arms surround me. They tighten. Mason isn’t a man to be told no. I’ll pay for this. It’s not because he’s in love with me; it’s because I’ve become an addiction to him. It’s almost enough to make me stay. My other life has already been thrown away, but I need to make it official before spending weekends with Mason. It’s one thing I can do right.

After another fifteen minutes, I pull away. And he lets me go. When I look at him, his face is a mask. There’s no expression to show me what he’s thinking or feeling. I wonder when we’ll have enough of each other, when he’ll replace me with someone who will do exactly what he wants.

I gather my clothes, then walk into his private bathroom. I’m still trembling as I clean up and get dressed. Nothing seems to hurt me as much as walking away from him after we make love, but until I get things ended with Paul, I can only give Mason this one piece of me. I also need to remember this is temporary for Mason. I’m about to burn down my life, and then I’ll be alone in the end. It has to be this way, though.

Mason says nothing when I come out of the bathroom. I move over to him, give him a kiss, and turn and walk from his office. Idon’t know what he’s thinking or feeling. I rarely do. It’s going to be a long weekend, that’s for sure. I leave the building. It’s time to enter the real world again.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chloe

I arrive home to find Paul in the kitchen eating pizza. It’s his go-to dinner when I get home late. I used to cook a lot, but haven’t done it much since getting my new job. I love to cook, but Paul and I no longer have romantic dinners where we sit and tell each other about our days.

Of course, I don’t think he wants to hear about my day, about how I was crying out another man’s name less than an hour ago. More guilt fills me when he looks up with a distracted smile.

“You’re home early,” he says. It’s nearly seven now so this isn’t exactly early, but I guess between my job, working out, and my time with Mason, it’s unusual for me to get home before ten these days.

“I didn’t do a gym workout tonight,” I say. I grab my own slice of pizza, and move to the island and sit.

“Your arms look great. I can really see the muscle definition,” he tells me. I give him a smile. It’s the first compliment he’s given me in a very long time.

“I love the bench press and doing curls,” I tell him.

“My job’s so sedentary if I don’t work out, I feel like a lazy slob,” he says.

“You work harder than anyone I know so no one can call you lazy in any aspect of your life,” I tell him. For just a moment, things almost seem normal between us. It’s these moments that make it so hard to have our final conversation. He might not be my lover anymore, but he’s been my friend since I was sixteen.

“Some might say my obsession with work is unhealthy, but I love what I do, and I want to advance in my company,” he says.

“You’ve always been hungry for more.”

“We stop moving forward if we don’t push ourselves,” he tells me.

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