Page 69 of The Auction Block

I blush.Fuck, he is walking, talking sex.

Circling his hands around my ankles, he gently glides them to my thighs, squeezing my hips. I squirm, moaning softly as blood pulses to my clit, yearning to feel him inside me.

"Blake, please," I whimper.

"Patience, baby." He leans down, running his tongue from my left hipbone to my right. I flex my hips upward and he nips my skin.

"Ah, damn it, Blake!"

Before my hips can settle on the bed again, he pushes my legs open, and buries himself deep inside me. I scream out in a mixture of pain and pleasure— the fullness of his erection pulsing, and desire exploding within me.

Placing his hands on either side of my head, he presses his lips against mine, and moves. Pulling back slowly, he stills, and as I lift my hips, he slams into me again.

"Fuck," I say through gritted teeth.

"You feel like heaven, baby," he says pulling back again.

"Blake, plea—”

He slams into me again, but this time he keeps going— hard, fast, and unrelenting. The clenching deep in my stomach builds, his left hand, gripping my hip, holding me in place. It’s heaven and hell at once— a sweet, pounding pain.

"Come on, Lily," he hisses pushing deeper inside me. I can't take anymore. "Cum with me, baby."

I explode around him, losing all sense of place and time. He thrusts into me again, shaking as he finds his own release. Panting, covered in sweat, he collapses beside me. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him.

His lips press firmly against my temple. "You better come back to me."

I smile, my eyes closing, my breath uneven. I'm sated and dumbstruck in the afterglow of his passion. "I intend to."

When I get back, we may never leave this room.

I shake my head, sitting on the edge of the bed, a stupid grin on my face.

Mr. Mason, you know how to put it on a girl.

I twist around, staring at the beautiful man lying next to me. Never in a million years would I’ve thought I'd get this lucky. I glance at the clock— eleven p.m. The bed shifts as Blake rolls onto his side, facing me. His eyes flutter open, a smile spreading across his face. I grin, trying to hide the sadness nipping at the edges of my elation.

"Come back to bed, baby," he says, holding his arms open.

"You should go back to sleep, it's late."

"What's wrong?"

I crawl across the bed, lie on my back and stare into his face. "I've got fifteen hours left."

He trails his knuckles along my jaw line. "Stop. I don't want to think about it." Leaning down, he gently presses his lips to mine.

My stomach growls and we both laugh.

"We should get something to eat," he says, kissing the corner of my mouth.

Smiling, I sit up and move off the bed. I walk to our pile of clothing, and shimmy into my pants. My body stiffens as Blake runs his fingers over the scars on my back.

"Who gave you these?" His voice is hardly a whisper.

"I was eleven. My owner got his kicks beating the shit out of slaves." I turn to face him, pulling my shirt over my head.

"I see the girls come through the halfway house, but I don't think I've really comprehended how bad it is out there . . . until I saw you with Sorina." He rests his hands on my waist.