Page 17 of Grace's Revelation
"Well, take your rage out on me.” I dug my fingers into his side. “I can take it.”
He looked around the room.
“Are they gone?”
“Yeah.”
He grinded his cock into my center.
"Why?" I pushed the words through as a groan passed through my lips.
“Because I’ve got a lot of rage to work out.” He bit my lip and let it go. “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop and you know that might get loud.”
“You know how much I love a challenge.” My giggles quickly transitioned into moans of pleasure.
Mase shoved his hands down my shorts and pushed his long thick fingers inside of me.
The towel fell away as he got up on his knees for better access. His fingers touched parts of me so deep, I could have sworn he brushed against my soul.
His fingers twisted inside of me.
It hurt in a delicious way.
His other hand wrapped around my throat. He gently squeezed and stared in my eyes.
I laid my hand over his.
He blinked and leaned over and kissed me.
I loved having his hands on me, in his dominant, possessive way. He always made me feel secure and never let a moment pass where I could possibly doubt where I belong and who I belonged to. Even before those moves took on a sexy meaning.
He looked after me at school. Made sure no one picked on me or teased me. The world knew early on if you mess with Gracie and Mattie, you had to deal with Mase. And no one wanted to deal with Mase.
Since leaving the Dragons, I dated a few stupid ass bikers and a frat guy or two while in school. None of them had what he had. They couldn’t reach me because they didn’t have the key, and didn’t know the combination.
One man knew how to get inside of me.
I was grateful and frightened to have him turning his key.
I was ready to be open, ready to be close to someone, ready to get fucked properly the way the other Lady Guardians talked about.
Our lips crashed together and it was like the world caught fire. His tongue was powerful as it pushed its way past my lips and claimed my mouth.
I moaned against him as I battled for territory, but his hand undulating down my shorts made it hard to put up too much of an effort.
I rocked on his hand. My hips catching his rhythm on their own.
He caressed my cheek as he slapped my hip.
He laid down tender kisses on certain body parts and stinging bites on others. He constantly kept switching up the sensation to keep me hovering on the edge of oblivion.
My hands explored Mase’s torso, my fingers ghosted over the scar I made with my little knife.
He ran his hand down my chest and to my waist. He slid his finger over my scar, which was not so little. The bullet went in and out, but it caused a little more cosmetic damage than a scratch. A little hole in the front and on my side.
The angle was perfect, he didn’t hit any major organs, but the scar remained.
Mase’s fingers slid over the dimpled skin.
