Resolution (Mason Family 5)

“I know. I apologize.”

I laugh. The sound breaks the moment, and I’m suddenly acutely aware once again of where I’m sitting.

On top of Wade Mason.

I roll my hips, pressing down on his lap. He raises his hips to accentuate the motion.

He growls. “You are really testing my self-restraint.” His fingers slide beneath the hem of my dress. And as soon as his skin touches the lace of my panties, I shudder.

My movement slows, and I still on top of him. Heat rushes from my pussy, and I wonder briefly if he can feel it.

As if he knows my thoughts, he smirks.

“Let me ask you a question,” I say, forming an eight with my hips in one long, deliberate movement.

“No.”

“No?” I grin. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean I’m done answering your questions.”

I narrow my eyes and create another eight. “For how long?”

“Patience, Miss Alden. Patience.”

I lick my lips and press my thumb against his partially open mouth. He nips the pad of my thumb with his teeth, grazing the skin with a sharpness that somehow radiates through me.

“I assure you, Mr. Mason, that my patience bandwidth isn’t going to grow with your mouth—oh!”

In one swift move, Wade sits up, wraps his arm around my waist, and flips me onto my back. He hovers over me like a predator eyeing prey.

Shit.

My chest rises and falls quickly. Blood pounds through my veins. Anticipation thickens around us, and I wonder, for the slightest second, if it’s possible to pass out from a look.

His hand cups the base of my neck and tilts my chin. “Are you sure?”

I force a swallow. “Am I sure of what?”

“Are you sure about this?”

He looks so deeply into my eyes that I’m pretty sure he can see the answer.

“Last chance.” His words are intentional, each syllable clear. “If we go forward, we can’t go back. Everything will be different.”

I nod, but that doesn’t suffice.

He narrows his gaze. “I’m not going to be able to feel the way I felt before I knew what it was like being inside you.”

Oh. My. Fuck.

My body temperature spikes. My core clenches and my body hums, demanding him to follow through on that promise.

“Come on, Miss Alden,” he goads. “You want to talk so damn bad. Where’s your cocky little mouth now?”

It takes a moment longer than I’d like to gather my wits. It takes a full minute too long to remember how to speak. But when I do, it’s with all the confidence I can muster.

“Are you done?” I ask.

He grins devilishly. “What? You don’t want to talk anymore?”

I give him his grin right back. “I was hoping you were finished giving me the terms and conditions of getting fucked so we could get on with it.” Although he still has a hold of the back of my head, I lean up as far as I can. “So you can get inside me.”

He crashes his mouth to mine, his fingers wound roughly in my hair. It’s wildly reckless yet dizzingly controlled at the same time.

Everything is heightened from the weight of his body on mine to the smooth strokes of his tongue past my lips. I wrap my arms around him and pull him tighter against me, needing as much of him in every way as I can get.

We kiss as if we’re teenagers with an impending curfew—lips moving, hands roaming, wills bending.

The overwhelming tension between us melts away as we give in to the moment.

He lifts himself and slides a hand down my body. His palm rolls over my breast, presses against my stomach, and moves between my legs. One knee falls to the side as I try to fiddle with the buckle of his belt.

Kisses are planted across my jaw, down the side of my throat, and onto my collarbone.

His fingers dip beneath the lace of my panties, and with a distinct tug, the fabric gives way at my hips.

“Wade—shit!”

My cry interrupts my attempted suggestion that he disrobe, thanks to his thumb pressing hard against my clit.

“Shit?” He lifts a brow, pressing small circles against my sensitive bud. “Where are all the words now, Dara?”

“I still have them,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut before they pop out of my head. “Damn, that feels good.”

“Does it?” He slips one finger deep inside my pussy. It’s quickly followed by another. “I wouldn’t have known.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

I rock against his fingers as he strokes them in and out of me. I lift my hips and hold still, giving him more access … and easier access.

“Do you want to come first on my hand or on my cock?” he asks. “I’ll let you pick.”

“So sweet of you,” I moan as his fingers find the spot inside me that drives me wild. “That’s two sweet things in one day.”

A wicked grin sweeps over his lips. And his fingers stop.