As though he can read my thoughts, his mouth leaves mine, but it doesn’t leave my body. He kisses a trail along my jaw, nips at my earlobe, then continues on down my neck, his tongue dancing in the hollow of my collarbone.
His hand leaves the back of my neck, sliding down till he cups my breast, his thumb swiping over my hardened nipple again and again.
“God, I want to taste you everywhere,” he whispers against my skin.
“Yes, please,” I answer, the words leaving my mouth as soon as they enter my head. No second thoughts. No second guessing.
He pulls back, looking me in the eye, gauging my sincerity. “Are you sure?”
Am I sure?
I take in his perfect, kiss-swollen lips, imagining what else he could do with them.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mason
“Viola,” I whisper against the soft skin of her neck, not quite believing my good fortune.
When we got to my room, I was afraid she might bolt. She had that cagey, wary look on her face like she felt trapped. It disappeared after I kissed her, but then the food arrived, and it came back with a vengeance.
I’m still not sure I’ve gotten all the way to the bottom of her concerns, but I seem to have alleviated the bulk of them. For now.
I’ve been around her long enough to realize that she’ll likely have more questions once she’s had time to think and process. And I’m happy to answer them all.
But right now I’m even happier she said yes.
Tugging at the hem of her shirt, I raise it slowly, still kissing her jaw, her cheek, her lips, only stopping so I can pull the garment over her head. And now she’s shirtless in my lap, still grinding on me.
God, I want inside her. But that’ll have to wait. Maybe for another night.
This—undressing her, tasting her—is a gift. I’m not about to assume anything as a given.
I slide my hands up and down her sides, tip her back into my hands, and press a kiss just below her collarbone. Her chest swells against my lips as I move lower, kissing my way along the edge of her plain black cotton bra, still sexy even without lace and satin. My tongue dips into her cleavage, getting a hit of salt and skin and her.
“Mason,” she sighs, squirming in a way that gives just a tease of friction where I want it the most.
All of this is the most delicious tease. The way she moves against me. The way she lets me undress her in phases, tasting her skin piece by piece. It’s everything I’ve wanted for far too long, and also not enough. Nowhere even close to enough.
My index finger traces the closure of her bra.
“Yes,” she says, answering my unspoken question. “Please. Take it off.”
With a grin stretching across my face, I sit her back up and make quick work of undoing it. She helps pull the straps down and off her arms, dropping her bra on the floor in front of the couch.
My hands immediately cover her tits, molding the soft flesh with my palms, loving the hard nub of her nipple in the center of each hand. Plumping one in my hand, I circle the rosy tip with my tongue again and again until she presses her chest against my mouth.
Yes. This is what I want from her—enthusiastic participation. No more of that nervous, wary nonsense. Hopefully that’s long behind us now.
Spurred on by her encouragement, I suck her nipple into my mouth, scrubbing it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue. She gasps in shock or delight or both.
Releasing it, I move to the other side to give it the same treatment. God, I just want to lay her out and feast on her.
And since there’s no reason not to, I set about doing just that. Pulling one leg under me, I shift her back till her butt touches the cushion, then lean her back till she’s lying on the couch, me between her spread thighs.
“I could get used to this,” I whisper with a cocky grin.
She lets out a husky chuckle, her hand smoothing the hair out of my face. “Me too.”
And with that sentiment between us, I dip my head back to her neck, her chest, lying down between her thighs to worship her tits the way they deserve.
She arches her back, offering herself up for my lips and teeth and tongue, gasping and whimpering and sighing at the varying sensations.
Making my way down her body, I swirl my tongue around her bellybutton and place a kiss just below it, right above the waistband of her pants. “Can these come off too?” I ask, my fingertips sliding along the soft fabric.
Raising her head, she bites her lip as she studies me. “It hardly seems fair for me to be naked and you still fully dressed.”
My cock twitches as I sit up and yank my shirt over my head. “Better?”
“Mmm.” Her eyes track down my torso, and I fight the urge to flex in a bid to make myself more impressive. I’m not as cut as Marcus or even Danny. I like pizza and liquor too much, much to the dismay of our trainer and nutritionist. And PR team. They’d all like me to have washboard abs. As it is, my belly is flat, and I have definition when I flex, but not so much just relaxed.
But if the desire in Viola’s eyes is anything to go by, she doesn’t mind a bit.
When she bites down on her lower lip again, I lean down and kiss her then capture that lip with my own teeth. “God, you taste good,” I whisper against her lips.
“So do you,” she whispers back.
Scooting back down between her thighs, I suck on one nipple, making her arch and gasp again, before picking up where I left off. “Since I’m topless now too, does that mean I can take off your pants?”
She chuckles,
