Page 23 of Gin and Lava

“How many times are you going to ask?”

“Hey, you talk a lot of shit,” I defend.

“True,” he says, leaning forward and removing his shirt completely before he kisses me and grinds my open legs against where he’s thick. “Yes, Naomi. I consent to everything you want to do with my body.”

“Okay, good,” I say, sliding backwards and off him, planting my feet on the floor of the truck. My hands are on his shoulders and my ass is in the air. “Lift up my skirt and take off my panties.”

“Fuck!” Mason looks at me with desire and surprise.

“We can’t really do this with them on,” I say hotly, and his eyes go wide. “What, Mason? Are you going to talk the talk, but you’re not going to walk the walk?”

“No, I just—”

“Take my panties off!”

“Bossy.”

“You like it.”

“Kinda.” His hands go to my knees, looking up at me intently as he lifts up the fabric of my skirt. He doesn’t expose me to him, instead he reaches underneath and delicately slides his hands up my thighs to my hips, hooking his fingers into the sides of my panties.

God, it feels amazing. He stares at me, waiting, checking another time that I’m serious.

Any reservations I had before are gone.

“I need to fuck you, Mason.”

He groans, dragging my panties down my ass. The look in his eyes is pure lust. He slips the fabric between my thighs until they drop to my ankles. Then his hands are exploring my legs, softly stroking my skin in the same way he did with my back, his fingers running up and down my thighs.

“Do you want to know how wet I am?” I ask, and he shakes his head like I’m taunting him.

“Pace yourself, dirty girl,” he says, hooking one of his hands behind my knee and bending it toward him. He positions it beside his hip, then he moves my second knee into place so I’m straddling him again.

Only, this time I’m bare under this skirt.

“Touch me,” I whisper. “Please.”

I kiss him as his hands slide under the blue fabric, but instead of reaching between my legs, he palms my ass and starts kneading—first hard, then soft—arousing me with his tickling.

“You’re a tease,” I say against his mouth, and he smiles and continues his assault, dragging me forward so I’m pressed against his chest with my pussy hovering over where he’s hard in his pants. I could drop my ass and grind against his thickness, but suddenly, Mason’s fingers are inching up my thighs.

“You didn’t think I’d be a tease with all the shit I say?” he asks, stroking the insides of my legs, but not touching me where I need him.

“You seem a bit …” I hesitate. How do I say that Mason’s stunning wit tends to imply he’ll be in and out and done just as quick? “There’s a brashness to you, Mason, and it—”

“Makes you think I’ll flip you over and be done with you before you orgasm?”

“Penis shirts, naughty words, desperation,” I say, shrugging. “There’s a recipe there.”

“Except, desperate doesn’t mean I’m not going to savor it,” Mason says, teasing his fingers across the sensitive skin between my thighs and pussy, where the edge of my panties usually is.

“Please!” I beg, biting his earlobe, because damn, he knows exactly how to drive me insane.

“Plus,” he says, continuing to play with my skin just south of where I’m aching, “watching you orgasm is going to be the best part for me. Not that I don’t want to come hot and filthy inside your cunt—”

“Mason!” I’m not sure if I say that as a scolding, or if I’m deliriously gasping for him to keep dirty talking.

“Soon,” he whispers in my hair. “But first, I’m going to draw this out so I can watch you orgasm. And trust me, you’re going to come more than once. You got that?”

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