Page 127 of Twisted Trails
Mynobodywho sees my cracks and calls them beautiful.
His eyes flick down, tracing the length of me. “Shite. You’re so damn beautiful.”
I almost laugh at his hoarse words, at how in sync we are without him realizing it.
He takes a knee to grab the towel on the floor, but I grip his shoulder, halting his movements. A question burns in his eyes as he looks up at me, spreading to his clenched jaw and the uneven rise and fall of his chest, but I don’t answer with words.
Standing tall, I push on his shoulder, keeping him down, and let him see it all—my want, my need, my full body.
He slides his hand around my thigh, flexing his fingers in a claiming grip before he lifts my leg and pulls it toward him, setting my foot on the edge of the bunk behind him.
And then I’m open to him, bare, flushed, and already aching.
His mouth finds the inside of my thigh, and I gasp, my whole body locking for a second before melting into him. His stubble scratches as he plants open-mouthed kisses up my leg. When he reaches my center, his tongue flicks out, teasing the place I really want him, and my knees nearly buckle. His free hand slides behind my other leg, anchoring me to him, and I grab his hair as I let out a shaky breath.
He continues teasing me. Kissing. Nipping. His teeth graze just enough to make me shiver.
“So soft.” He nuzzles the inside of my thigh, his breath hot against my core. “Fuck, Bambi. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
If it’s anything like what he’s doing to me now, I do. I’m already soaked for him, thighs trembling, heat curling low and tight inside me.
I want him to have all of it.
Because in this moment, I’m not broken. I’m notfighting to prove myself. I’m just a woman wanting the man on his knees before her.
And he’s looking up at me like I’m the goddamn moon.
His dark eyes flare as he drags his hand from the back of my knee to the curve of my pussy. He pauses again, his fingers ghosting there, that same question written across his face.
“You say you always watch me. That we don’t hide from each other. You know exactly what I think and what I want better than anyone.” My fingers slide deeper into his hair, pulling his head back to make sure he sees the truth in my eyes. “You don’t have to ask what I want. You alreadyknow it.”
His lips part, and he exhales one word that sounds like a confession and a curse all at once. “Fuck.”
Then he surges forward and licks me, memorizing me, and rewriting every fucked-up moment that’s ever made me feel inadequate.
His hands grip me tighter as he works me open, his tongue moving with purposeful flicks, then deeper strokes that make my whole body arch.
I cry out, my hips jerking against his mouth before I can stop them. My hand fists harder in his hair, anchoring myself to him as my knees tremble.
He groans low against me, the vibration making my legs twitch and my belly tighten. He buries his face deeper, eating me out like he’s fucking starving for me.
Then he slides two fingers into me, and they curl just right, stroking that sensitive, aching spot inside me while his tongue continues to circle and suck at my clit.
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely able to form the word. My head falls back, eyes fluttering shut. “Mason?—”
Heat spirals out from my center, building fast, and I try tohold on, try to delay the edge he’s pushing me toward, but it’s no use.
I shatter.
My body bows as pleasure detonates through me, and I sob out his name as I come, pulsing around his fingers. His tongue doesn’t stop moving, like he wants every last tremor from me.
Mason stays there, licking, tasting me with slow, wet kisses like he’s savoring the wreckage he caused. Then his lips start to travel upward as he stands, moving across my hipbone, my stomach, the underside of my breast, my sternum, the hollow between my collarbones.
He’s worshiping me.
One kiss at a time.
When his mouth finds my throat, I feel tears prick behind my eyes because not too long ago, I was sure I would lose him.
