Page 28 of Fun and Games
He kept himself there, not moving, while I squirmed and writhed around him.
"Move!" I choked out.
That was all the urging he needed to start pounding in and out of me, rocking us back and forth in a carnal rhythm. The sofa shifted and creaked with the force of his thrusts as he slammed into me again and again. It was hard, and rapid, and almost brutal, and so,sofucking good I thought I might pass out.
I let out quick, short gasps with every thrust of his hips, mouth hanging open and nearly mindless with pleasure.
"Fucking love this sweet pussy of yours," he groaned as his fingers dug into my hips.
"Mason… Mason—!" I cried out as my fingers scrambled for purchase against the wall. "I need—!"
He brought his hand to my clit with rough strokes, and I shrieked, completely falling apart in his arms as every muscle in my body tensed and trembled.
"Fuck—!" He grunted into my ear as he slammed into me one last time and came, his cock pulsing and flexing inside me. "Bree—!"
My bones turned to jelly as I collapsed. He caught me with strong arms as he continued to rock back and forth with small thrusts, easing himself through his release. Aftershocks of pleasure went through me with every shallow roll of his hips, until it was close to painful. I moaned again and let my head fall back against his chest.
"Fuck… Mason…" I murmured in a slurred, blissed out voice. "So good…"
I felt him press a kiss to my hair as his arms squeezed around me.
That was the last thing I registered before I fell into darkness.
Ten
I wokeup to the smell of coffee and burnt toast. Mason must have been cooking. Or trying to cook. I smiled to myself and stretched under the warm blankets. He must have put me to bed after that fantastic fuck last night. I hadn't felt so worn out, yet so satisfied, in a long time.
Mason was muttering to himself from the kitchen when I rolled off the bed. I tugged on his shirt from last night. It was just long enough to cover the important bits.
I made my way to the kitchen and found Mason standing in front of a plate of burnt toast. He was wearing a pair of boxers and no shirt. I took a moment to admire the view.
I'd had my hands on those muscles, on that skin, twice already. It didn't seem like enough. My fingers itched to feel him again. My palms long to run over his strong chest and arms.
But at the moment my caffeine headache took priority over my libido.
Mason held a butter knife in his hand as he frowned down at the charred bread.
I went to him and wrapped my arms around his chest from behind.
"If you're wondering whether or not to eat that," I said, "the answer is no."
"I didn't want to waste it," he said, "but I don't think it's edible."
"I'm not really a breakfast person anyway," I said. "Just coffee is fine."
"I'm not too good in the kitchen," Mason apologized. He tugged me around to face him, cupped both my cheeks and gave me a blisteringly hot kiss. I moaned into his mouth as the throbbing between my legs flared up. After long moments, we parted slowly with regretful sighs. Mason grabbed the coffee pot and poured me a cup.
"There's milk and cream in the fridge, and I've got both sugar and sweetener," he said.
"You're well-stocked," I said.
"With all the late nights I pull, coffee is a necessity," he replied.
"Do you have to be at the bar early today?" I asked.
"Connor and Quinn convinced me to take the day off," he replied.
"Good." I took a sip of my coffee, taking it straight black. "Then you can come with me on my IKEA job today."
