Restraint (Mason Family 1)

He holds the finger in the air, my desire glistening off it.

“There’s one question answered,” he says, his tone rough. “Let’s answer another.”

“Which is that?”

Looking me dead in the eye, he wraps his lips around his finger. My jaw drops as his eyes light up.

“You taste amazing,” he says.

Before I can react, before I can come up with a witty response, he’s dipping a finger inside me again. It goes in slow, and even I can feel my body squeezing around it. He works it inside, his other hand gripping my bare ass, before sliding it out and inserting it again. With each stroke, the flame in my belly grows hotter.

My fingers dig into his hair and tug his head back, capturing his mouth with mine. He strums my pussy, like a key to an ignition, as his tongue wraps around mine and strokes it to the same tune.

He pulls back, giving my bottom lip a gentle bite before burying his head in my chest. He kisses across the top of my breasts before tugging down the neckline of my dress. My breast pops free of my bra, sitting atop the white lace.

His tongue coats a budded nipple, working a small circle around the engorged flesh. As he sucks it into his warm mouth, he inserts a second finger into my pussy, and it’s all I can do not to scream out in delight.

I can’t focus on either sensation. Every synapse is firing, misfiring, and re-firing in such quick succession that I can’t make sense of any of it. All too soon, he pulls away from my chest, and his fingers slow.

My breath ragged, my sight fuzzy, I release the back of his head and stand straight. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to do you.”

Needing a release, I swirl my hips against his hand. This only makes him pull it away altogether.

“Take off your dress,” he orders as he unfastens his belt.

“But …” I look around the balcony. “Here?”

“I’m not waiting to get inside you.”

His pants, shoes, and socks are placed on the chair, his shirt joining them.

Holt Mason stands in front of me, a chiseled portrait of absolute perfection. His muscles are created, not swollen or pumped by a chemical, but designed … maybe by God or maybe by a trainer. I don’t know, but I’d like to thank them.

He takes a condom and rolls it over the top of his swollen cock. While he does this, he watches me expectantly.

Any hesitation I had about getting naked on a balcony is gone. I’d remove my clothes for him in the middle of the street if he told me to right now. This is completely ridiculous, I’m aware of that, but I. Just. Don’t. Care.

My dress and bra join his clothes in a heap behind him. He takes a few calculated steps my way.

“I let you call the shots. But from here on out, I’m in control,” he breathes. “I will take care of you in every way, but you need to trust me.”

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you,” I whimper as he wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his chest.

“Then give me a chance to earn it.”

When I don’t respond, his eyes light up. He presses a gentle kiss to the middle of my lips, before turning me around.

His breath is hot against the shell of my ear, his cock heavy and hard at the small of my back. Moving a lock of hair fallen from my bun, he presses another kiss to the side of my neck. “Bend over and grab the railing in front of you,” he whispers.

Looking over my shoulder, I’m silenced by what I see.

Lust. Control. Consideration.

A man in power.

And for the first time in my life, I’m okay with giving up that power for one night.

As I grip the rail, my hands sweaty and threatening to slip, he positions himself behind me. The tip of his cock parts my pussy and hovers right at the opening.

Before he slides into me, he pauses. “If you start to fall, I have you.” And then he presses into the wetness, parting me into two halves and bringing me more pleasure than I’ve ever allowed myself to enjoy.

Six

Blaire

His breathing evened out an hour ago, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I laid next to him, his arm protectively around my abdomen, and watched him sleep.

There’s been plenty of time for me to second-guess everything that happened today, and I’ve tried in a very me-like way, but I just can’t make it happen.

Holt was rough yet tender, crass yet careful, smoldering yet sensitive, and I can’t make myself wish I’d made another decision rather than to be with him. Even so, I know the choice I have to make now, and that’s to be realistic. Smart. Gone.