Page 67 of Mason

“I didn’t want you to think I had any ulterior motives for you staying here,” he mutters, voice thick, dark.

I grab his face, forcing his mouth back to mine, swallowing his groan when my teethgraze his lower lip, when I rock against himdeliberatelythis time.

His grip on me tightens.Harder. More desperate.

He fists a hand in my hair, dragging my head back, forcing me to look at him.His eyes are wild. Blown out.

“Last chance to stop this,” he warns, but his voice is already wrecked, already telling mehe won’t stop,even if I say no.

Ismirk, deliberately slow, dragging my nails down his stomach, teasing the waistband of his pants.

“You’re wasting time talking, Ironside.”

That’s it. That’s the final snap.

Hetearsat the sweatpants, yanking them down my legs, not even bothering to fully remove them—just enough to give him what he wants. He groans when he finds mesoaking wet, ready for him,and his fingers sink into me without hesitation, curlingjust right,making my back bow against the wall.

I bite my lip to keep fromcrying out, but he doesn’t let me get away with it.

“Oh no, baby,” he growls, dragging his thumb across my clit,rubbing slow, devastating circles.“I want to hear you.”

I gasp,jerk against his hand, pleasure coiling tight in my belly.

“God, Mason,” I pant, head hitting the wall behind me.

His breath is ragged as hepulls his fingers from me, shoving his pants down just enough to free himself.

And when heslides into me in one hard thrust,the stretch isunforgiving, filthy, perfect.

Icry out, fisting my hands in his hair, gripping his shoulders as hefucks into me, hard andruthless, grinding me against the wall, each movement driving mehigher, higheruntil I can’t tell where he ends and I begin.

It’srough. It’s fast.

It’sexactly what we both need.

His teeth sink into my shoulder as he thrusts deep, his groanlow, animalistic,vibrating against my skin.

And when Ibreak apartin his arms, his name spilling from my lips like a fucking prayer, Mason follows—shuddering against me, his grip bruising, his mouthstill claiming mine,even as we fallcompletely undone.

Breathing hard.

Wrecked.

Andso far beyond any line we swore we wouldn’t cross.

21

MASON

The silence between us is thick—too loud for comfort, too full of everything we just did.

Her back’s still against the wall, breath soft and shallow, the faintest tremble in her limbs. My hands are gone from her body, but the heat of them lingers—like my touch is still stamped into her skin.

I should step back. Say something smart. Something careful.

Instead, I ask, voice low and rough like gravel scraped across stone, “What will your brother think?”

Shelby scoffs, then tilts her head back and lets out a girlish giggle, light and teasing—completely at odds with what we just did. With the way I just had her pinned against the wall, with the way my name still lingers on her lips like a sin.

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