“You want it, baby?” He loved talking to her, seeing the reaction written all over her face, the pretty pink flush that darkened her creamy skin. “You want to ride my cock?”
She nodded furiously, as if she couldn’t speak and he thrust upward, filling her with one strong, sure stroke. The moan that escaped her made him groan in return. He pushed deeper, all the breath leaving his lungs at the first sensation of her clenched around him like a tight, velvety fist.
Slowly, they began to move, her downward shift meeting his upward thrust in the most perfectly coordinated dance. She curled her hands around his shoulders and dropped her head back, the ecstasy etched all over her face driving him on.
He enjoyed nothing more than giving this woman pleasure. She was so responsive to his every touch and it thrilled him, how well they moved together.
Already she was close, he could tell. Gripping her hips, he brought her down hard, filled her as deep as he could. She ground down on him, unabashed in her movements, not embarrassed for what she reached for. And what she reached for, he fully planned to give her.
Within minutes she stilled above him, and then her orgasm rippled through her, her body giving a jerk before he felt the flutters and clench of her pussy around his cock. She milked him, her moans coming with every shudder wracking her body. He watched in mute fascination as she came all over him.
She pushed him into his climax and he rode it, closing his eyes as he came so hard, he saw stars. Sparkling, shooting stars flashed beneath his closed lids, his breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body quivering with exhaustion after the two overwhelming orgasms he’d just experienced.
Blake slumped against him, her body wrapped all around his, his cock still buried inside her. She kissed him, her lips soft and sweet, and damn if he didn’t want her again. All sweaty and sticky and tired, yeah, it sounded good, real good to give it another go.
So he rolled her over onto her back and with a wicked smile, gave it another go.
She didn’t offer a single protest. Not that he believed she ever would.
Chapter Thirteen
Blake dropped her paintbrush onto the table and walked over to the window, grabbing her cell from her desk along the way. With a sigh, she scanned through her contacts until she came upon Suzanne’s name and selected it to dial.
Suzanne answered immediately, her voice rushed, breathless. “Hey, are you able to come over this morning?”
“Do you still want me to?” Blake glanced out the window, watched the heavy rain fall in steady sheets. It had started in the middle of the night and hadn’t let up. The dark, steely gray sky indicated it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.
“I know the weather is awful, but I really need your support.” Suzanne’s voice lowered to the barest whisper. “I’m having man trouble. Remember that guy I told you about?”
Blake perked up. Suzanne had never revealed the former someone who lurked in her past. She knew Suzanne had come to Whitney Island to get away from a certain man in particular. Well, she at least assumed that.
“You want to meet at the coffee shop?” Blake started moving about her studio, putting supplies away in anticipation of her leaving. A latte and a muffin sounded good right about now. She hadn’t eaten any breakfast and Mason was still in her bed. Usually he’d be in the kitchen, cooking them breakfast by now.
She was getting spoiled. That’s why she let him sleep in this morning. She’d woken up extra early, full of energy and itching to get her hands on her paintbrush. Since they’d stayed up far too late doing deliciously wicked things to each other, she’d left him alone.
Glancing at the clock, she noted it was almost ten and Mason still wasn’t up. She must’ve really worn him out.
A wicked smile curled her lips at the thought.
“I—I can’t meet you. Do you mind coming over to my place?”
Blake instantly sobered. Her friend seemed in trouble and she needed to concentrate on that. “Oh. No, I don’t mind. When?”
“Right now, if that’s okay? I really, really need to talk to you.”
The urgency in Suzanne’s voice was clear. Blake wondered what had got her worked up so terribly.
“Okay. Give me a few minutes to clean up and then I’ll be there. I need your address though.”
Suzanne gave her the information and Blake hung up, bustling about the room, picking up everything she’d strewn about in the last couple of hours. Grabbing her coffee cup, she went to the kitchen and set the mug in the sink, then headed back toward the bedroom.
Cracking the door open, the room was extra dark, the blinds shut and curtains drawn. Mason lay in bed, the sound of his deep, steady breathing filling the room. She padded quietly across the floor and stopped on his side of the bed, watching him sleep.
He looked vulnerable while in slumber, a word she would normally never use to describe Mason. His face was softened by sleep, his lips full and parted, those thick, dark lashes like little fans brushed against his skin. His dark hair mussed, one leg was slung out and over the covers.
Blake sighed. She hated waking him, especially for this. She wouldn’t be gone long and she’d call or text him the moment she arrived, let him know where she was. Suzanne probably didn’t want him around. Clearly she was looking for some one-on-one girl talk and Mason would be forced to sit outside.
She wrinkled her nose. How she hated that he didn’t trust Suzanne but really, she was a big girl, she could handle herself. What could happen to her?