Page 47 of Scary In Love
I scream and come, and I come and scream. My release floods every part of me, the pressure still somehow building while unholy noises roar out of my chest. I scream until my voice cracks, and the only sounds left are my wracked sobs.
He pulls the sack off my head, cups my face and lifts it to look at him. His mask is gone, abandoned on the floor in a pool of liquid I think might have come from me.
“Are you crying?”
His eyes search mine for reassurance I’m in no state to give. I gulp down air, unable to speak as he tenderly wipes the tears and drool from my face with his hand.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because you’recrying.” He kisses my cheek, one hand cupping the back of my head gently. “Why didn’t you use your safeword?”
Did I forget? Did I even want to? I don’t think I was even close to saying it.
“It feels so good. Please, Mason?” I beg. “More.”
I don’t know if I can even handle more than what he’s already given me, but I’m desperate to try. He grips my jaw, then angles my head to run his tongue from my chin to my temple.
“Fuck, your tears taste good,” he moans. “You’re so pretty when you cry, baby.”
Such a strange compliment, but it melts every part of me.
Deep in a place where nobody would find us, he’s cracked me open, torn me apart, hunted for the things I’ve always tried to hide.
Yes, I’m half-naked and exposed and vulnerable, but I’m not afraid or ashamed. These aren’t tears of sadness or fear. They’re the rich tears of life and freedom and mind-altering pleasure.
Mason called me baby, and that one word burrowed deeper, tearing down my walls to reach the part of me that craves softness and care. It makes me cry harder, but he knows it’s a good thing.
Working quickly, he rips open the ties at my feet, and reaches behind me to pull me to the edge of the seat. He pushes my knees wider and caresses the spot where my hip meets the top of my thigh.
“I love this part of you.”
My skin is thinner there, dappled with stretch-marks I’ve had since my teens. He kisses them all, then switches to make sure I’m just as cared for on the other side. Then, his hands grip my calves, urging my knees up.
“Hook your knees over your hands. Keep them nice and wide.”
He flattens his tongue and presses it against my entrance, dragging it from side to side. Thank fuck he removed the sack so I can finally get a proper look. His eyes never leave mine, and I watch him eat me so slowly, it’s torture. He uses his tongue the same way he kisses, unhurried, then ravenous.
My thigh muscles twitch from the pressure of keeping them up, but that only heightens my pleasure.
Mason curls his fingers up inside me, pushing against the tender spot that feels so damn good. My body spasms again, and I give in to it, my mind slipping under as he unleashes an orgasm so powerful I swear I black out.
I scream until he pulls his hand away, muffling me with his soaked fingers. My tongue wants more, and he feeds them into my mouth, watching me taste myself and whimper the only word I’m capable of forming.
Mason.
27
Mason
Eveninherwreckedand overstimulated state, Jenna is radiant.
Shattered and spent, a drooling mess, and still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
Her clothes are shredded, her make-up is smudged, and her thighs are still shaking from fuck knows how many orgasms she’s had at this point. I’ll give her a thousand more if she’ll let me.
Before she arrived, I stashed bottles of water in each of the rooms. I uncap one and tilt her head back so I can slowly pour it into her mouth. Her eyes stay on mine, but I watch her throat roll as she gulps the whole thing down, wondering how well she’ll be able to take my dick when I finally let her touch me.
“Check in with me, Jenna. Red, yellow, or green?”
