Resolution (Mason Family 5)

“That’s my mistake,” he says, getting to his feet.

My jaw drops as I scramble to sit up. “Wait. What are you doing?” I watch him walk across the room toward a set of stairs. “Wade!”

He takes the steps two at a time and disappears on the landing.

I stand, my heart pounding, and pull my dress down.

The room is quiet except for the roar of the fireplace. I glance around, wondering what the hell just happened, and try to remember where I set my purse. I don’t even have my cell phone.

Dammit.

Before I can descend into an all-out panic, the lights overhead brighten just a touch. It offers me just enough light to see Wade coming down the steps.

His belt is gone. So are his shoes and socks. He still has his pants on, but they’re unbuttoned.

He doesn’t look at me until he takes the last stair and turns toward the couch. But when he does meet my eyes, my knees wobble.

The look in his eye is pure power.

He’s unhurried but still determined as he moseys my way. Once he’s in front of me, he tosses a condom on the coffee table.

He doesn’t say a word as he turns to me, grabs the hem of my dress, and pulls it over my head.

I don’t object for obvious reasons.

Goose bumps break out across my skin as the cool air envelops me. Wade reaches behind me and unclasps my bra. He tosses it somewhere into the night.

He takes a step back. His gaze rakes over my body from my toes to the top of my head. Then it meets mine.

I stand completely naked in front of the hottest man I’ve ever seen in the flesh. I’m normally not self-conscious but something about this situation—the care and detail in which he looks at me—makes me tremble.

He flexes his jaw. “Dammit, Dara.”

“What?”

My voice isn’t as strong as I’d like it to be, but I’m working with what I have. Right now, I have nothing but a wet pussy and a need to be satisfied.

He clears his throat. Still, when he speaks, he’s hoarse.

“You are …” He grins seductively. “Fucking gorgeous.”

My body sags in what might be relief and what almost might just be another heap of desire.

I saunter toward him, my confidence boosted by his compliment, and make quick work of his zipper. He steps out of his pants and boxer briefs. They get discarded to the side.

Even in the low light of the living room, the length of his cock is surreal. It stands at full attention with a bead of pre-cum glistening on the tip.

I run my finger over the head and swipe up the drop onto my fingertip.

“Dara …” He groans as he reaches for his condom.

I lift a brow, and then, with more boldness than I’ve ever had in my life, I plop my finger into my mouth.

“Damn you,” he says, his voice thick with want.

“No, damn you. You’re the one who preached patience for twenty minutes.”

He ignores me, making quick work of the condom. Then he takes my hand and leads me to an oversized, armless chaise next to the fireplace.

The heat singes my skin as he lies back on the chair. He then guides me on top of him.

His cock lies between the folds of my sex as I straddle him with a knee on either side of his delicious body.

He reaches up and tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear.

“I want to see you,” he says softly. “I want to feel as much of you as I can while I bury myself inside you.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Likewise.”

His lips twitch before he cups my face in his hands and pulls it toward his.

We kiss—softer this time. Each motion of his tongue is more deliberate than before. It’s less frenzied and more like he’s committing this one to memory.

I run my hands over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms. My core pulses, my clit screams for action, while his length teases my opening.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I reach between us, lift myself, and slide painfully slow down his erection.

He hisses as each inch of him becomes enveloped by me. I moan as I’m filled with as much of Wade’s cock as I can take.

I lean forward, planting my hands on his shoulders, and let my body get used to the sensation. It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt this.

He presses a kiss on my shoulder. Of all things, this makes me blush.

Wade leans back and grins. It’s a soft smile, and if I were feeling ballsy, I’d remark at how this might be a step toward intimacy.

But ballsy, I am not. Not right now.

He palms my breasts as I start to move, his fingers playing with my pebbled nipples. My hair swishes against my back as I rock back, forth, and around.