Page 33 of Scary In Love
I believe him. Nobody makes you fill out a kink quiz unless they really care about your wellbeing. I might not know much about him, but I know I’m safe here.
His head tips further back so he can hold eye contact, drawing me deeper under his spell. His voice is hypnotic, his touch makes me woozy. His hand slides higher, lightly stroking the curve of my ass. The other hand mirrors the movement, until both are full of my cheeks, fingertips pressing gently into my flesh.
“It aches, right?”
“So much,” I nod.
“I know it does. I saw you squirming while you answered my questions. Don’t you need a little relief?”
Words fail me. I can only manage a whimper.
“Then ride my fucking thigh.”
His rougher tone shocks me, and I grip his shoulders when he tugs me forward and down onto him. The pressure of him, flat and hard against my core is incredible, and I groan at the sensation.
“There we go,” he smirks, skating his fingertips up and down my skin. “Isn’t that better?”
I breathe deeply, trying to compose myself, but he presses onto his toes, pushing harder up against me. I shift my weight, desperate for relief from the ache he’s been building inside me. My clit drags againsthis jeans, and the friction sends sparks shooting through my limbs. I move to kiss him, but he ducks away and spreads his arms out wide.
“Nope. I’m just here for the show,” he says with a teasing laugh. “Grind harder.”
My eyes squeeze shut, but when I open them, Mason is still watching me closely, his face lit up like he just got everything on his Christmas list and more. He bounces his knee, my hips buck, and I grip the back of his neck while he watches me lose my shit.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan.
It’s embarrassing how hard I ride his thigh, but I don’t care. I’ve needed this since he kissed me in the laundry closet yesterday, and the orgasms I managed alone barely took the edge off. There’s no stopping me now. I’m going to come on this man’s leg before he’s ever properly touched me. That’s how much power he has over me.
My thighs grip around his so I don’t lose my balance. Heat floods through me, the pressure building and building until—
A knock on the office door interrupts us.
“Hey boss!” someone calls from the other side. “We have crow-nuts backstage.”
“Nooo—” I whine, and Mason grabs my head with both hands, one palm clamped over my mouth.
“I’ll be right there,” he calls back, a smug grin on his face. “Playtime’s over. Time to get up.”
I hold his shoulders for support while he helps me stand up. He tugs my skirt down from where it’s ridden up and guides me to the door.
“God, you were so close, weren’t you? Such a shame.” His mocking tone only makes me want him more.
He opens the door and peers into the corridor, checking the coast is clear
“Do you, er, think you could find your way out?” he asks, scrubbing at his jaw. “I need to run upstairs and change before I see anyone.”
I glance down at the wet spot I’ve left on his jeans, and my hands fly to my mouth. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “I loved seeing you get that heated and, you know, itismy fault you’re not wearing underwear.”
“They were soaked before I even took them off.”
He gasps, then flicks the hem of my skirt up a little. Silently, I will him to go higher, to take a proper look at what we both know he’ll find underneath.
He smoothes the sides of my hair and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. “Will you text me and let me know you get home safe?”
The way this man switches it up between soft and dominant is giving me whiplash.
“I’m sure I’ll manage, but if I get into an accident and paramedics see me half-naked, I’ll ask them to put me out of my misery right there. And I will absolutely haunt you from the afterlife.”
