Her head drops for a moment before she rights herself.
Pleased at my handiwork, I sit back to admire her. “Damn, that’s a pretty sight.”
“It’s. Obscene.” She spits the words.
“Absolutely.” I grip her chin in my hands and force her to meet my eyes. “And you’re loving every fucking minute of it.”
8
Anna
God help me, but Mason is right. I’ve never felt anything close to this. The combination of pain, pleasure, excitement, and agitation has rolled into a lethal, explosive fireball in the pit of my stomach.
I love it.
I hate it.
I’m confused.
Shocked.
Thrilled.
It’s too much and not enough.
Mason has become so deliciously dangerous. I want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Somehow he’s managed to push every sexual button I’ve repressed and kept buried deep inside me.
Love swells as boundaries I never knew existed between us dissolve, leaving behind nothing but raw truth and naked, blazing desire.
I only hope I survive.
My muscles shake in my effort to hold my position. I don’t understand how this works, but the more I obey, the more he challenges and pushes me, the hotter I get.
He smirks down at me. “Are you motivated, girl?”
I shiver. I’m beginning to love when he calls megirl—the way he says it, in that voice. That hard, low tone makes me want to throw myself at his mercy.
I swallow hard. “Yes, Mason.”
A sharp nod. “Good. Put your hands at your sides, and swirl your tongue over the tip of my cock like you mean it.” He offers me a cool, controlled once over that sends fire racing through my veins. “If I’m not satisfied, we’ll continue to adjust your motivation.”
My arms tremble as I lower them. My nipples burn, and as I lean forward, the unexpected sting makes me wince.
He chuckles. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
It does. But the pain keeps getting messed up in my brain, morphing into high-octane pleasure. There’s something wrong with liking this, but my body doesn’t care about semantics. All it cares about is the demand for satisfaction.
“Now, girl.”
The command refocuses my attention. I suck in the musky scent of him, studying his erection. The reddened tip. That steely length. I’m going to do my level best to follow his instructions.
My lips quirk—with the proper enthusiasm, of course.
I close my eyes and swirl my tongue over the tip of his cock. The silky skin is hot. Smooth as silk but very hard. Using his example of an ice cream cone, I lick over the slit, around the sides and back over the top.
It occurs to me that in a strange way, this whole evening has been about me. My comfort. My feelings. My satisfaction. I’ve really done nothing but take, and now I have the opportunity to give something in return.
And I do like giving, making Mason happy. An interesting kind of power settles in my sternum, making me strong instead of hesitant.