Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)(87)

“Oh, screw it.” I dug my fingers into his firm ass and moved with him, urging him to quicken the pace. “We can have long, drawn-out slow sex later.”

He groaned again, though this was more like a whimper. “Promise?”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes. Right now, just light me up. Please.”

“On it.” His hips slapped against mine. And…damn.

It was the first time I actually savored the carnal delight of this act. I cherished every wicked sensation vibrating through me. Hugging his hips tight between my thighs as he repeatedly entered and withdrew, I threw my head back and arched with him.

And yet, despite how hot and sweaty and primal it was, I felt a connection that ran so much deeper than the physical. The electrical current that had tethered us together the first moment I’d ever seen him across the college campus ignited inside me.

Mason’s gaze was awed and amazed as he watched us come together. But he must’ve sensed the bond too, because he looked up and caught my eye. With a dazed kind of grin, he sank his fingers into my hair and held my face as if bracing himself for the big plunge off the summit.

“I love this,” he said. “I love you. You are so beautiful.”

I gripped him tight. “I love you, too.”

And that was it. For a split second, he appeared overcome. Then he crushed our mouths together, buried himself deep, and sent me spiraling over the cliff. My entire system felt like a lightning rod, absorbing the shock of our union. Mason groaned and followed me into oblivion.

Until that moment, I hadn’t realized I’d never had an honest-to-God orgasm before, because what happened to my body possessed every nerve inside me and shocked me from the inside out. The intensity kind of scared me. I cried out and clutched him hard, gouging out half moons into his back with my fingernails.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

“Jesus, Reese.” He arched and crushed us together as his cock pulsed.

I dug my heels into the base of his back until the earthquake, tornado, hurricane, and tsunami of sensations passed. And still, I felt rattled to the core. “Oh…my…God,” I said one last time, my voice faint and exhausted.

Slumped heavily on top of me—which I loved—Mason chuckled against my cheek and kissed my jaw, then my throat, my collarbone. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like to make love.”

I turned my face to the side and saw his heart reflecting through the stained-glass windows of his gorgeous gray eyes. Realizing this was the first time I’d made love too, my lashes grew a little damp. Cupping his cheek where his five o’clock shadow prickled my palm, I murmured, “It is a million times better than that icky ol’ straight sex with no feelings involved, isn’t it?”

He teased my ear with his nose. “Fifty million times better.”

Not one to be bested, I had to retort, “A trillion times.”

“Infinity,” he countered.

Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I burrowed my face into his neck. “Infinity times two.”

With that, I pretty much just passed out underneath him, falling into a deep, peaceful stupor.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN




We woke some time later to my phone announcing an incoming text. Mason swung out an arm and grabbed it off the nightstand to pass to me.

It was from Eva. His Jeep is in the driveway again. That gigolo better treat you right.

This EX gigolo is treating me better than all right, I returned and gave the phone back to him to replace on the nightstand.

“What was that about?” he asked with his sleepy, sexy voice.

“Nothing.” I curled into his warm side and ran my fingernails lightly over his chest. “I was just bragging a little to Eva.”

My phone chimed again. I began to lean over him to retrieve it, but Mason caught my waist, halting me. “Don’t you dare stop touching me like that. I’ll get it.”

Sighing contentedly, I caressed him a little lower. He groaned out his approval as he opened my text. “She said you’re a lucky bitch.”

I smiled, and a little something-something under my stroking fingers grew into a rather large something-something. “Why, yes. Yes I am.”

He cursed and hooked an arm around my waist to tug me on top of him. This time around, I straddled his lap and did a little cardio exercise. Mason was even kind enough to show me how the backward cowgirl position worked. Bless his soul.

After round two, we took another nap. When we woke again, food became a little more important. I knew I didn’t have much in my cabinets, but we went to investigate the kitchen anyway.

As I commanded him to stay seated at the table, I scurried around to collect all the breakfast friendly food I had.

From his seat, he took a drink of the OJ I’d gotten him and sighed, refreshed, as his gaze followed every move I made. “I finally know why a guy likes it so much when his girl wears nothing but his shirt around.”

“Why?” I asked and wiggled in his shirt so the hem would ride higher up my thigh. “Easy access?”

“Well, that too.” Eyes glittering with sensual awareness, Mason watched me open the fridge and pull out a couple of jars. “But I think it’s like marking his territory. He knows just how much she’s his when she’s wearing his property.”