My back hits the wall and his mouth crushes mine, kissing me brutally. His tongue penetrates my mouth for an endless, breathless moment, making me feel like he’s already fucking me but leaving me even hotter than before when he finally pulls away. I tug at his clothes, tossing layers aside as I manage to peel them off him. First his coat falls to the floor, then his flannel shirt, followed by his damp long-sleeved T-shirt.
He pushes my sweater and thermal top up, then yanks down my bra, finding my nipple with his mouth and sucking. I groan as I curl my fingertips around the back of his head, digging in.
Coming to my senses briefly when his fingers tug at my belt, I say, “Not here. Let’s go upstairs.”
He makes a disgruntled noise, but puts just enough space between us for me to dart to the stairs and up, taking two at a time with him following at a fast walk. We spill through the bedroom door, our pants already half-off, then gone, our underwear disappearing a second later. He closes the distance between us in a breath, his hands all over me again, his mouth hot and demanding. Every inch of my skin is on fire, sending fresh jolts of ecstasy between my thighs when he touches me.
I turn to climb onto the bed, but he grips my hips and pulls me back against him. He drifts his smooth lips across the side of my throat, his erection inexorably pressed against my ass. I try again to climb up onto the bed, wanting the softness to fall into after we’re done. He finally relents, letting me move, but following me, intent on a singular purpose.
He digs his fingertips into my hips again as his hot length grazes down the crease of my ass until his tip notches at my core. I yelp when he thrusts into me from behind, not from pain, but surprise at the sudden, sharp urgency.
I bury my face into the pillow while he fucks me, my mind a blank slate of pleasure. If I had the capacity for coherent thought, I’d be surprised that it was even possible to be this blank in the middle of sex. Normally I’m preoccupied with other things. With Mason, I’m aware of nothing but the steady stroking of his thick cock inside me and his hands teasing at my breasts, my clit, caressing down my back, gripping and squeezing my ass, then moving again.
He never quite finds a place to settle. Normally I’d be frustrated by that, but that one piece of his anatomy is working me so well I think I might come just from that alone.
I don’t, but he does, loudly, several moments later, his grasp on my hips bruising. Before I can track his movements, he shifts positions, gripping my hips from a different angle and pulling them down.
I’m thrown off-balance, inundated with sensation, but disappointed that the fullness of him has disappeared from inside me so quickly. I begin to sit back and look for him, but before I can, his face appears between my thighs, his lusty gray eyes twinkling up at me.
And he laughs.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, laughing back.
“Making you come,” he says, tilting his head up and flicking his talented tongue between my thighs in just the right spot.
“But I’m a mess . . . You just came . . . Oh, fuck.”
He doesn’t waste time, his mouth already going to work on my dripping pussy. I can’t do a thing but give in, gripping the headboard and spreading my thighs just a little wider and trying really hard not to suffocate him.
But he seems to want to be buried in me. He grips my ass and pulls me down closer to his mouth. I cry out when his unrelenting assault makes me involuntarily buck. He tongue-fucks me like he’s reaching for that last bit of half-melted ice cream in the final two inches of waffle cone on a hot summer day, and it feels amazing.
I arch my back, lose my grip on my bedframe, and fall back, catching myself with my hands against his sturdy body behind me. When I look down my angled torso, the top half of his head is visible between my thighs. His eyes are bright with naughty glee at how he’s making me writhe against him. He must really like making me scream.
My body clenches with the first spasm just as his tongue makes that last, steady, deliberate stroke. My breath escapes like I’ve been punched and I gasp for air. I arch and cling to his hips, digging in, hoping dimly that I don’t hurt him as the waves of tingling pleasure course through me and a piercing cry of pleasure erupts unbidden from my throat as my hips spasm over his mouth. A mouth that doesn’t seem to be finished yet.
Oh God, no. He isn’t stopping. His tongue teases at me again and I hear my own screams continue, hating myself for them, but loving the way he laughs at the same time.
I lose my grip and fall back, twisting away from him when he refuses to cease tickling with his tongue against my sensitive flesh.
“No more!” I plead, laughing and burying my head in the covers beside his thigh.
We lay like that for several silent minutes, my mind a dazed mishmash of remembered sensations. The only concrete images are a few from the snowball fight before all hell broke loose, and they make me smile. Mason still smells like snow beneath the scent of our mingled musks. It’s too bad our fun morning had to be so brutally destroyed.
His body shifts beside mine and he slides a warm hand up my thigh, coasting it gently over my naked ass and along my back. The pleasant, soft sensation makes me heave
