He hums against my skin. “We have to leave in half an hour. I promised I’d give you a good reason to wake up.”
His hand slips down my front, delving beneath the waistband of my leggings, his fingers threading between my legs. Lying on my side like this, my legs together, he can’t quite get all the way to his obvious goal, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He strokes what he can reach, and my clit positively quivers with the anticipation of his fingers finally getting there.
Even so, I stubbornly remain in position. “I’m not ready to be awake,” I whine.
“I know,” he whispers, his lips tracing a path from my neck to my shoulder. “But if you wake up, I’ll make you feel amazing. And then we’ll come back as soon as possible after the show, I’ll make you feel amazing a few more times, and I promise I’ll let you get more sleep tonight.”
Intending to glare at him, I roll onto my back, but that’s a mistake, because his fingers breach my core as soon as they have the space to move. Words, intentions, thoughts, all fly away, and Mason’s mouth is on mine, his tongue circling mine like his fingers circle my clit.
He doesn’t let up, doesn’t pause, devouring me while his fingers play me like an instrument, working me higher and higher until my pleasure crests, breaking over me like a wave.
As I finish shuddering, he withdraws his fingers at the same time he ends the kiss, propping himself up on one arm and looking me over with heated, hooded eyes. “God, you’re delicious. I’m sorry I kept you up so late last night. I didn’t realize you were so tired already. But damn. I can’t wait till our next day off. I’m not going to let you leave my bed.”
My eyes widen in surprise. But before I can voice any of my questions—what would he do with me all day? Why does he think he gets a say in where I spend my day off—although, let’s be real, when a sex god offers to spend all day pleasuring you, why would you say no?—he pivots to his knees, hooks his fingers in my pants, and pulls them down and off me, tossing them over his shoulder.
He jerks his chin at my torso. “Lose the shirt. I can get down with the half-dressed thing at some point, but since we’re in a bed, naked is my favorite.”
I just blink up at him, not quite following, my brain still sleep fuzzed plus orgasm stupid.
Smirking, he shoves off the boxers I hadn’t noticed him wearing, stands to kick them off, and grabs a condom from the nightstand. Then he crawls between my legs, nudging my thighs apart with his knees. With one hand, he tugs my shirt up and captures my exposed nipple with his mouth.
“Oh!” My hands weave in his hair, holding him in place, his latex-covered cock dragging against my thigh as he moves over me.
“C’mon, V. Lose the shirt and bra. It’s much better when I can worship your tits, don’t you think?”
“Y-yes,” I manage to get out, releasing his head so I can finish undressing.
He sits back on his heels, watching me pull the shirt over my head. Before I finish tossing it aside, his hands go behind my back and undo my bra, tugging it down my arms and tossing it over his shoulder. His eyes focus on my boobs, and he cups them almost reverently. “You’re so beautiful, V. I still can’t quite believe you’re letting me touch you.”
I can’t really believe it either, when I stop to think about it under the clear light of day. But right now, I don’t want him to stop touching me. Ever. “Don’t stop,” I whisper. “Don’t you dare stop now.”
His dark eyes meet mine, and a smirk tips his lips. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he promises. Then his lips close around my nipple—the other one—and he sucks it hard and deep into his mouth, his tongue playing with it, his teeth applying gentle pressure. A little more, and I hiss. He immediately lightens back up.
Damn this man and his willingness to test, play, find out where my boundaries are and back off when he reaches them. How am I ever going to find someone to follow this up?
Maybe you won’t have to, whispers a sly voice in my mind. But I push it away. Tell it to shut up. Because that’s just dumb. This is Mason, the guy with a never-ending parade of groupies through his dressing room. The guy I’ve watched getting blow jobs in crowded private rooms at clubs. All but watched having P in V intercourse so many times I’ve almost become immune to it.
I don’t suffer any illusions that this will turn into something lasting, even if he is willing to set aside his fuckboy lifestyle for now. I’m a challenge. Something out of reach but tantalizingly under his nose all the time. Soon enough, he’ll get bored and go back to the never ending buffet provided by his fame.
And I’ll …
Well, with his tongue doing wicked things to me, I’m not going to think about that. It’s not like being a band’s PA is a long-term career choice for me anyway, right? This was just an escape from the boring life path I’d started down. Something to hold me over until I figure out what I really want to do. This job isn’t permanent. This relationship isn’t permanent.
Wrapping my arms around Mason’s shoulders as he lifts his head and finds my mouth with his, one of his hands sliding between us to help him line up and join our bodies together.
This might be magical. Exhilarating. The kind of thing I’ve only read about in romance novels. But unlike those books, my happy ending will be on my own. Somewhere else. Not with a
