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Page 39 of Playing with the Boss

I shudder when his palm hits my pussy, the heel of his hand massaging my swollen folds.

“This suspension,” he says, focus squarely on his fingers as he explores my wetness. “It was worth it.”

“God, that feels good.” I reach for him, frustrated when I can’t touch him.

“This will feel better.” He leans forward, hands on my inner thighs to hold my legs apart while he sweeps his tongue the length of me. “Fuck, yes.”

Like the sex-starved hussy I am, I arch toward him, hoping, wishing for more. My prayers are answered when Mason slips a thick finger inside, quickly following it with a second to stroke me to the brink of orgasm. His tongue dances across my clit, stopping every so often so he can suck the tender flesh into his mouth before releasing it with a pop.

I literally claw at the chair to save from sinking my nails into him and dragging his body over top of mine.

“I don’t…” I pant. “I don’t want to come yet.” Don’t get me wrong, multiple orgasms are fucking amazing. But dragging it out? Holding off? I want that high.

“Are you sure?” he groans. “I was really looking forward to drinking it all up.”

“Positive.”

Mason pushes my bra down and takes my breast in his mouth while he reaches down to free himself from the restriction of his boxers. I twist side to side, suppressing a moan as he nips the bud of my nipple, to try and get a glimpse of his cock.

I felt his erection pushed up against me at the club, felt how thick and hard he was. All I’ve thought of since is how badly I wanted to suck him off that night. If Emma hadn’t lost herself in the next stall over, I can guarantee that Mason would have lost his load in my mouth.

“You want a taste?” he asks apparently having figured out what I try to do.

“What do you think?” I arch an eyebrow.

He grins, his eyes devilish as he scoots back to stand a foot from the chair. “Come and get it then.”

My weakened body slides from the seat, my legs folding beneath me as I do so that I kneel before him. His erection stands proudly between us, twitching when I lick my lips. I grip the base and wrap my lips around the head, stilling for a moment to savor both his taste and the groan he makes as I take him in.

He stands with his feet wide, hands on hips and head tipped toward the ceiling. Arousal pools at the apex of my clenched thighs as I take in this masterpiece before me. His abs are tense as I take him deeper, his thigh rock hard beneath my hand.

Jesus. And I thought I’d be able to drag this out.

My hand swirls around the velvety flesh of his cock while I take him deep, pull back, and then push deeper. His crown hits the back of my throat, and I fight the natural instinct to gag. My throat closes around him, pulling a guttural moan from the man that has my pussy clench in anticipation.

I need to get this man on his goddamn back, now.

“Baby,” he rasps, hand in my hair. “You keep that up, and I won’t last.”

I pull off his dick with a final pop and then push gently on his thigh. “Get on the bed.”

Mason’s eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before an amused smirk graces his lips. “Is that so?”

“You want this?” I stand tall, twisting one arm behind me to release my bra.

He swallows hard when I drop the lace, giving him a full unhindered view of my naked body. “Fuck, your everything.”

“I’m wet and impatient,” I reply with a jerk of my chin. “Move.”

He does as he’s told, but instead of retreating to the bed like I want, he steps toward me. I gasp as I’m lifted into his hold, his erection tantalizing close to the apex of my thighs as he carries me toward the bed.

“You want to ride me, baby?”

“So bad.”

He backs up to the foot of the bed, hands beneath my ass, and falls backward. I brace myself over him, my hair falling in a curtain to shield us from the world. It’s him, me, and another hour at least of whatever the hell we want to do.

I get the feeling most of which will include this bed.




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