Page 91 of Gin and Lava

She detonates, and I grab her hips to support her, bouncing her up and down on my length until I’m coming too.My teeth sink into her shoulder as we ride out the wicked blaze. Our bodies pounding in rhythm and wet from the exertion.

Her gasps feel like my gasps.

Her screams my own.

Her cunt clenches and ripples and milks out my orgasm until I’m whimpering at how hard I’ve come.

Naomi descends from her peak as well, rolling her head back against my shoulder, gasping with her whole body. She lies against me, panting, and our breath starts to match. The heat and softness between us is so damn perfect.

My hands slide over her front, caressing her tits and stomach. Lower to where those wicked gold chains cling to her hips, gold charms dangling between her legs where we connect, where she’s still split open and impaled on my cock.

She doesn’t move. She breathes deeply and lets me hold her. And hell, I’m going to hold her as long as I can. I’ll stay inside her as long as she lets me. I don’t care if we don’t move for an hour, or a day. There’s no other place I want to be.

I kiss her shoulder and neck, and she moans like that’s too intimate. But she doesn’t stop me. She lets me pepper her skin with my lips. She lets me caress her tits and inhale the scent of our dirty, hot fucking. She lets me hold her for a long, long time …

Such a long time, that it feels like she’s actually mine.

26

NAOMI

Mason doesn’t shower. He cleans himself up, and naked, he takes a seat at my jewelry desk. Flicking on the ring light, he looks at my design pieces while I stay stretched out on the rug in the middle of the room, right in the spot where I just rode him.

I know I’m going to have to deep-clean this rug later, but right now, all I want is its velvet caress. The rug feels decadent. Sinful. And even though I’d normally get dressed as fast as possible after sex, I just want to lie here and bask in how dirty it was.

How freeing.

My fingers trace the gold chain that lines me from hip to hip, and a smile breaks my lips. I’ve never done reverse cowgirl before. Or taken control like that. It’s silly to feel empowered from wild, naughty sex, but Mason makes me want to do all sorts of things I normally wouldn’t.

“Do you really think I should call this piece the reverse cowgirl?” I ask Mason, causing him to look at me sprawled in this ocean of cream shag. His eyes dance across my skin to the golden chain, and there’s something quiet and introspective in his gaze.

A month ago, the words quiet and introspective would never have been used in the same sentence as Mason. But somehow his eyes peer right into me.

“I’ll never call it anything else,” he says with a hitch to his smile, and I expect him to say something crass—but he doesn’t.

I suppose wedidthe crass thing.

No,Idid it.

I put my mouth on him. I straddled his cock on the floor. I let the naughty genie out of the bottle and bounced my jewelry in his face. And he loved every second of it, with no judgement. No shame. No looking at me like I pushed things too far. No look that said I’m not the girl he was hoping for.

With Mason, I’m someone different.

“Why don’t you sell your work?” Mason asks, holding up some of the pieces that are on my workbench. “They’re good.”

“I can’t,” I say quickly, rolling onto my front. “It’s just … no.”

“You realize that making and selling jewelry isn’t the kind of thing that needs to be a secret,” Mason says. “What are you so afraid of?”

His green eyes peer down at me curiously. It’s a serious question coming from someone I expect to make a joke. Or maybe, I’dpreferhim to make a joke. It’s easier to ignore Mason when he’s being an ass.

“It’s not ready,” I defend, a cold chill creeping up my back. “Launching my own jewelry line is a huge deal. It’s not just making the pieces. There are all these other things you have to worry about: branding, websites, marketing. I don’t know how to do any of that stuff. And even if I did, it would have to be perfect. All of that is just … too big.”

“Like my cock?” Mason jokes, and I smile.

“Exactly,” I say, appreciating that he’s lightened the mood. I’d rather field naughty comments than talk about how I’m too chicken-shit to do anything serious with my hobby.

Hobbies are easy. If you fail at a hobby no one cares. Everyone just tells you to find another one. Simple.

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