Fiance Next Door

Mason parts my legs. He meets my gaze as he lowers his face between them.

What was that Renee said again? Something about eye contact when he’s going down on me? Wait. Is he…?

His tongue brushes against me and my eyes fall shut. A gasp escapes my quivering lips.

He licks my other pair and I start to tremble. My hands try to grip the table. My nails end up scraping glass.

I purse my lips tightly to hold back moans as Mason’s wicked tongue rubs against my sensitive skin and sets it on fire. I’m burning down there. Melting. Leaking. Does he know it? I wonder. Can he see it?

Then his tongue dips into that melting core and my jaw drops. I look down at him, intending to tell him to stop. This is too embarrassing. Too much. But when my eyes meet his, I find myself gazing into pools of lust and all my words die down in my throat.

Shit, that’s sexy.

I shouldn’t be watching Mason as his tongue goes in and out of me. There’s something naughty about it. Sinful. Criminal. And yet I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from him. He’s daring me to watch and that sends ripples of excitement beneath my skin.

I tremble. I let out soft moans. My eyes begin to water. Still, I keep my eyes glued to him as he turns my insides to mush.

When his tongue strokes my nub, though, I can’t watch him any longer. I can’t even keep my eyes open. They squeeze shut as I throw my head back. My arms shake.

Mason teases me there over and over, sending sparks through my veins. My head spins. My body feels on the verge of exploding, shattering into pieces.

Then Mason stops. I lift my head and find him standing in front of the desk. He licks his lips as his gaze meets mine and gives me another grin, a grin that promises more mischief.

And pleasure.

He brings his face to mine and captures my mouth. I taste something sweet on his tongue. I straighten up to touch his chest. My fingers trace the outline of the bulging muscles.

When my fingertips brush against a rough patch, I stop. I pull away from the kiss and frown as I see the scar above his heart.

“Is this from a bullet?” I ask him as I touch it gently. “From when you were in the Army?”

“Shrapnel,” Mason answers as he takes off his belt. “But yeah, from when I was in the Army.”

It occurs to me that I still don’t know much about that part of his past. There’s a lot I still don’t know about him.

Now isn’t the time to ask, though. Now isn’t the time for words but for actions.

So I press a reverent kiss against the scar and lick it. Mason trembles. I give it another lick and he pushes me away.

He pushes me back so I’m leaning on my arms again. Then he steps forward. Something firm and leaking brushes against the inside of my thigh.

When it starts to poke me, I draw a deep breath. I hold that breath as he enters me. There isn’t any pain, but I feel like I might break just the same. Then Mason pauses. I let my breath out and brace myself for the rest.

He kisses me and keeps his mouth on mine as he continues to push. I feel myself getting stretched, filled. Then he pulls his mouth away and gives one last, hard push. I let out a cry as his cock rams deep inside me.

Mason pauses again. This time, he pushes my bra out of the way to cup my breasts and flick my stiff nipples with his thumbs. Then he starts moving, slowly at first. I can feel his cock sliding in and out of me. The friction sets my skin on fire. My whole body is burning now.

When he picks up the pace, I cling to him. My trembling arms and legs wrap around him. My cries spill out on his shoulder.

Mason jerks his hips and pounds into me. I feel his muscles tense. I hear him groan. Then, as he gives a hard thrust, I come undone. My body shivers all over. My fingers dig into Mason’s skin and my toes curl. My teeth sink into his shoulder.

Mason grips my ass as he buries himself deep inside me. He, too, trembles. Then he grows still. His hands leave me. His chest heaves.

My weakened legs dangle over the edge of the desk. I let go of his shoulder but rest my chin on it and keep my arms around him as I, too, try to catch my breath. I catch a whiff of Mason’s sweat mingled with the traces of his cologne and my lips curve into a smile.

I never paid much attention to him before. I never thought I’d marry him or have sex with him, but I’d be a hypocrite not to admit I’ve struck gold. Peggy’s right. Mason is hot, the kind of hot that would make any woman melt.