I sighed softly, swiveling my hips to meet his touch. He fingered me lazily, teasing the length of my pussy with two fingers, slowly circling my clit, then gliding down again to dip inside.
I’d discovered that he wasn’t chatty in the morning, but he had no issues whatsoever setting the pace and being in control. He decided when I had “teased him enough by being so fucking wet,” and he decided how he wanted me, how fast, how hard.
“Fuck,” he muttered in his morning voice. “We alone?”
I shook my head just as he lightly pinched my clit and rubbed at it. “Boys are in the kitchen.”
He gave no verbal response, and I didn’t need one. Instead, he rolled me onto my stomach, climbed between my legs, and rubbed the head of his cock against my opening.
With a smack to my ass, he silently told me to lift up.
I parted my legs farther and pushed out my ass for him.
He exhaled harshly and kneaded my ass cheeks.
“I need you,” I whispered.
“Quiet,” he murmured. “This ass is finally mine to play with. Don’t get in the way of that.”
I grinned into my pillow, bizarrely turned on by his morning manners. He was so rough and curt, all while managing to make me feel so desired.
Only when he deemed he’d gotten his fill of rubbing my flesh did he give me what I wanted. No words, no warning. He lowered himself over me, kissed my neck, and entered me in a single, deep, hard thrust.
I sucked in a breath and let the pleasurable sting flit through me before the intense heat took over.
I’d become addicted to listening to his breaths as he fucked me. They alternated between short and shallow, and labored and heavy.
“God, you feel so good, Mason,” I moaned into the pillow. “I can’t get enough.”
I felt him shuddering and speeding up, and his touches became rougher. He only spurred me on, and the warm slip and slide drove me insane. I couldn’t keep still. When he drew out, I arched and pushed against him to get more.
Forcing a hand between my body and the mattress, he sought out my pussy and cupped it firmly, letting his middle finger tease my clit.
“I’m having this for breakfast later.” He squeezed my flesh and made me gasp at the sensations that tore through me. “Shh, darlin’.”
“Please,” I mewled pleadingly. “All fours—please, love.”
He hummed and withdrew his cock. “Come here, then.”
Fuck yes.
I scrambled onto all fours and tried to collect my breath.
“Beg, Lis.”
I flushed.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need you… Only you, Mason. Only your cock.”
He blew out a breath and slid the head of his cock through my wetness. “Music to my ears.”
He entered me again, but slowly this time. Inch by inch, as if he was purposefully torturing me.
“Christ,” he exhaled. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
All yours.
After he’d ordered me to touch myself “like a good girl,” he was done talking. He fucked me hard, he fucked me deep, he fucked me like a fucking god. And then it was only our quiet noises and skin on skin that filled the air.
Until my goddamn son interrupted.
“Ma!” Brady yelled up the stairs. “We gotta head out in ten!”
Oh my God.
“I’m coming!” I screwed my eyes shut and erased the last five seconds from existence.
Mason began pounding into me.
Almost, almost, almost.
“Right there,” I gasped. The pleasure exploded within me a second later, and I had to bite my lip to the point where I almost drew blood in order to keep quiet. There wasn’t a goddamn part of me that wasn’t straining, but holy fucking hell, it felt so good. So good, so good, so good.
Mason came just a beat or two later, and I clenched down on him as hard as I could, earning myself a low groan as he rode out the orgasm. Or fucked me through it. He moved his cock slowly through his release and gripped my hips tightly.
I wanted nothing more than to cuddle for a bit, not to mention kiss him senseless, but I was out of time. Once he collapsed on the mattress, scrubbing his hands over his face and panting, I had just enough time for one more thing.
I bent over his delicious, spent body and sucked his cock into my mouth.
“Holy—” He jumped slightly and pushed himself up on his elbows. “Jesus Christ, baby. That’s gotta be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
So now he was feeling chatty again.
I beamed internally and sucked him clean, then crawled up to give him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower in history. You wait here. Go back to sleep if you want.” One more kiss before I was gone.
“Hurry back to me,” he commanded.
Eight
Over the next few weeks, I lived for our moments together.
Whether we dressed up and went out for dinner at a nice restaurant or we stayed home on the couch, I loved every minute I shared with Mason. But my favorite was probably when we ordered Chinese and ate in his garage while he worked on a piece of furniture.
At the moment, he was building a crib for the baby. The garage door was up, snow was falling outside, soft rock music was playing in the background, and I sat in a lawn chair with a blanket around me and shoveled fried noodles into my mouth.
“Darlin’?” He stood by his workbench and ran sandpaper over the canopy of the crib.
“Yes, love.”
He always smiled to himself when I called him that.
“I think it’s winter,” he said.
I chuckled around a mouthful of food. “Yeah, now.”
We’d just survived a hectic Thanksgiving where we’d all crammed ourselves into Mason’s living room for a big dinner. None of us lived in places large enough to host family get-togethers, though William and Kelly had said they were officially looking for a house in Westslope, a district north of here. But I’d made a statement of sorts when I picked my cute house. I was done playing hostess.
