Page 46 of Gin and Lava

What the hell am I saying? Naomi is bent over my desk flashing me her thong and I’m making excuses?

“Yeah, I understand that you said that to be polite, Mason,” Naomi says, looking back at me from over her shoulder. “But here’s the problem.”

She reaches back and pulls her thong to the side, exposing her pink pussy to me.

My cock hardens completely.

“Is this a practical joke?” I rasp out.

“God, I wish I could blame it on something like that,” Naomi says in a breathy tone. “But ever since Olivia and Ned’s wedding I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She opens her legs a little wider.

Damn, Viking Princess.

“Mason,” she moans. “I’ve fucked myself with my vibrator every night thinking about you and your cock—and you know what?”

My mouth is dry.

My cock is tenting my pants.

“W-what?” I barely whisper.

“I can’t come,” she complains. “I’m so damn stressed out right now that I rub and fuck myself sore, but my pussy knows it’s not your cock, and I can’t orgasm.”

I shake my head. She didn’t just say that. There’s no way that’s true.

“You’re punking me,” I say stiffly. “This is a joke. Conner put you up to this.”

Naomi pulls the fabric of her thong further away from where she’s soaked. “I can’t fake this, Mason,” she complains. “I’ve been achy and wet all day long—all week long. I spend my days at the spa giving massages to other people and pounding out their frustrations until they’re blissed out and relaxed. But me? I’m so strung up, I can’t even think clearly!”

“That’s not true.”

“Mason!” she bites out, staring back at me with a hot glare. “Look at me right now. I’m bent over your desk with my lady junk hanging out literally begging you to fuck me. I’m the one in a vulnerable position here.”

“And you want me to fuck you?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Damn, Naomi, whatever happened to you thinking I was sweet?”

“Whatever happened to your mantra that the second I decide to be dirty in the bedroom, is the second my life changes?” she throws back.

“I'm not going to argue with that,” I admit, staring at her in awe.

“Are you hard yet? ”

“What do you think?”

“I think we already covered the part where you ought to stop talking, especially when I'm leaning over your desk begging you to put your cock inside me.”

“Damn. I like you dirty.”

Naomi pushes her thong halfway down to her thighs and leans her head against her folded arms on my desk. She moans, turned on by simply being exposed to me. “Mason, I consent. Please, fuck me.”

Holy shit.

She actually means it.

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