Page 38 of Playing with the Boss
Mason’s eyes find mine, the irises a deep gray resembling the sky moments before a storm. “It doesn’t matter.”
I hold him off with flat palms to his chest, yet all that does is manage to create a definite buzz between my thighs at the feel of his hard planes beneath my touch. “It does to me.”
He sighs, hands settled on my waist. “I’ve always found it hard to settle with one woman.”
Great. Here comes the part where Mason tells me he’s a womanizing jerk.
“Hard to trust.” He tugs my hips to him, thumbs tracing a path back and forth over my stomach. “The one time I settled down, it all went to hell.”
“Why are you telling me this? Now?” It all seems so intimate for people whose relationship—or whatever this is—is so new.
“Because with you it’s different,” he rasps. “For once, I care what you think. For once, how you feel means more to me than what I want.”
“And what do you want?” I run my hands to his shoulders, massaging the swell of his muscles.
“Tell me this. If we didn’t work together, if we were just two people who met on the town one night, would you want to try this again?”
The sincerity in his eyes is my undoing. He watches me with such captive interest, seemingly worried about what I might say.
“If I take this back to the very first night we met….”
“Then?” He lifts his eyebrows, begging me to continue.
“Then, I guess I probably would have wondered if I’d get to see you again.” I sigh, softening into his hold. “The way we met, Mason? I don’t do that. I don’t hook up with guys in that way. It was… it was a spur of the moment thing. I guess I wanted to challenge myself, see if I could drop my hang-ups and actually go through with it.”
“I’m glad you did,” he murmurs, ducking to press his lips to my neck.
“So, in answer to your question, yes. I would want to try this again. I do want to try this again.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.” His words are barely more than a guttural growl against my searing flesh.
My hands grip his shoulders to steady myself as he jerks my skirt up my legs with short, hard yanks. “I can smell how ready you are, baby. Fuck—I can almost taste you on my tongue.”
My panties are drenched hearing those wicked words fall from his lips in a husky whisper. “So taste me already.”
I prepare for him to drop before me, yet he takes me by surprise and runs his fingers along my pussy, pushing the damp material against my slick folds. My hips jerk toward him, my body seeking out more. He responds by easing the fabric of my panties aside, gaze holding mine, and repeating the action with his fingertips to my bare pussy.
Goddamn. I need penetration. Now.
“You want me to savor this cunt?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“Taste your warm juices? Feast on this swollen pussy?”
My head whips up and down. “Yes.”
“Huh.” He pushes two fingers inside, hard and fast.
I gasp at the intrusion, at how achingly satisfying it is to feel him inside of me. My core clenches around him as he pumps his thick fingers in and out, working me into a quick frenzy. The heel of his hand rubs my clit, his breaths coming faster and harder as I undulate against him.
“That’s it. Ride my hand and own that goddamn climax, baby.” He pulls his fingers free and pops them in his mouth, groaning as he drags them out, clean. “God, you taste good. So fucking sweet.”
Jesus. I think I almost came.
He lifts me effortlessly and positions me in the plush chair behind us. I grip the armrests as he lifts my legs to his shoulders and unzips my skirt, removing it with my panties in one pass.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says while spreading my legs. “For all the bullshit I caused.”