“Are you s-serious?” I whisper.
“Deadly,” he says, closing the door and then turning the lock.
The force inside of me guides me to the table. I push aside a few stacks of paper and then squeal when, as quick as a vampire, Mason leaps across the room and lifts me up. He handles me as though I’m one of those weightless cheerleaders from high school, soaring bird-like through the air.
But with Mason, I feel about ten times as special.
He places me down and even if I know that Gertrude isn’t going to be back for hours yet – she’s in the suburbs with a client – I can’t help but feel a thrill of tingling nerves dance through me.
I feel like we’re doing something bad, and somehow that adds to the sizzling fervor blasting furnace-like around my body.
“Oh, Jesus,” I whisper when he pulls down my jeans with a savage motion of his hands.
He leans back and stares at my pussy.
My bare pussy.
I gasp in shock as I realize my panties got all twisted up with my jeans, and now I’m just lying here bottomless. He pulled my shoes off with the same motion, his lust is so irrepressible, the hungry freaking beast.
He stares and I can see the unstoppable want in his eyes, the fascination glimmering in those icy irises as he takes in the sight of my naked sex.
“It’s perfect,” he whispers, leaning forward and smoothing his hands up my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “You’re perfect, Melody. So fucking wet already. I need to taste that wetness. I need to feel your come soaking my tongue.”
He moves his hands right to the top of my thighs, the flesh around my sex dancing a tune of need as he leans down, his breath warm against my lips.
I have to bite down when he buries his face in my pussy and starts licking, moving up one lip and then the other, skirting teasingly close to my clit.
My vision blurs and sweeps across the wedding photos, and then I have to focus on Mason instead, afraid I won’t be able to lose myself in the moment if I keep reminding myself of the fact that we’re in the office, at work.
Jesus, this is bad, this is so freaking …
Right.
It feels so right when his tongue finally finds my clit, needy, and engorged as he licks it quicker and firmer, his tongue making frantic patterns.
I reach down as my euphoria threatens to burst out of me and slide my fingers through his hair, pushing him closer, stunned by the infusion of forwardness that would let me do something so brazen.
But the pleasure has taken on a life of its own, and I can’t stop now, my hips twitching against his mouth.
It’s like my hungry womb has taken control of my body, guiding me in the best way to get the most pleasure from Mason, my silver fox, my iron-haired freaking alpha.
He’s claimed me.
I’m his.
These revelations repeat on a loop in my mind. He’s-made-me-I’m-his, over and over and over as the orgiastic tempo reaches a breaking point.
“Do it,” he snarls, voice muffled with the closeness to my pussy. “I can taste how close you are. Cream for me, Melody.”
“Ah—ah—aaaah—”
Words fail me as I feel my body gushing with the pleasure, all of it pouring out of me in shimmering, twitching motions that I can’t control.
The office falls away and it feels as though this table is floating on top of a volcano, the heat blasting us and filling up every part of me, every sultry inch feeling as though it’s going to explode.
I can barely keep the screams from escaping my lips.
I have to bite down, moaning in a stifled warble.
Mason licks and makes swallowing noises, a snarl sounding from far back in his throat, full beast now.
“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning back when I’m done, his lips glistening with my offering. “You just let go. You just fucking let go for me. It was perfect. You’re perfect.”
I’m not who you think I am.
I clench my fists, anger flitting through me that this thought would choose now to attack.
“I don’t know about that,” I whisper noncommittally, finding it difficult to speak with my chest hammering madly.
“I do,” he growls, leaning across and brushing a sweaty strand of hair from my face. “And tomorrow I’m going to make one of your dreams come true.”
“You’re right,” I giggle. “Losing my virginity to the man of my dreams has always been a fantasy of mine.”
He smirks. “Yeah, but I wasn’t talking about that.”
“What, then?” I ask, curiosity sparking.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he says. “But I guess I’ll be making two of your dreams come true tomorrow, then.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mason
I look across the private jet’s luxury seating area to Melody. She’s wearing a light fitting shirt and jeans that do nothing to conceal the made-for-sex curves of her luscious body.
Trying to get to sleep last night after the closeness in the Eternal Bond offices was almost impossible.
I couldn’t stop my mind from reliving the way she’d twitched and twerked those fucking hips for me, or the taste, the sweet tangy glory of her come as it flowed over my tongue and into my body, as though my seed was willing me to take a piece of her early.
But why the fuck do I need to take a piece?
She’s all mine.
And now she knows it.
But as I stare at her – the plane gliding smoothly through the late summer sky – I can’t stop myself from thinking of the note that was delivered to me late last night.
Leave Melody Baston alone.
She’s not who you think she is.
It was written on the same playing card that Mathewson showed me before. The card that the blackmailer had left with my employee, the one who hacked the cellphone and caused a PR shit
