Page 13 of Mason

“Oh,” I sigh.

With his hand a pillar above my shoulder, he leans down and kisses me. He thrusts in and out of me. I’ve never felt anythinglike this in my life. The way his dick completes me, touching every nerve.

Moments bleed into each other, a blur of passion and whispered confessions. Mason worships my body with a hunger that leaves us both breathless, our connection deepening with every thrust, every moan, every look.

“God damn, baby. Never been like this before,” He moans sexily, before biting my shoulder lightly. He tangles his fingers with mine, pulling them over my head. He kisses me as he squeezes my hands, thrusting into my harder and deeper than before.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I mewl, on the precipice of falling over the cliff.

He thrusts in one last time before we both shatter together.

We’re lying together, wrapped in each other’s arms when his phone shatters the silence, its shrill ringtone slicing through the afterglow. He curses under his breath, reaching for it. The moment he answers, I know there’s trouble.

"Fuck," he growls, snapping the phone shut. "Walker's making moves on one of our businesses. We gotta get back to the clubhouse." Adrenaline replacing desire. We dress quickly, urgency propelling us forward.

Back at the clubhouse, the air is thick with tension, a tangible force that wraps around us. The members gather, faces grim, hands ready for war.

"Listen up," Mason commands, his voice full of authority. "We move fast, hit 'em where it hurts. Protect the club, protect what's ours."

They nod, a silent pact formed in the depths of their brotherhood. I stand by Mason, my heart hammering in my chest. This is the life—a life of loyalty, love, and sometimes, battle lines drawn in the sand.

"Stay close," Mason murmurs to me, his hand squeezing mine. "It's gonna get rough."

I nod, determined to stand strong beside him.

Mason's fingers dance over a map spread across the table, his eyes scanning every inch. "We gotta lock this shit down. Walker's made it personal, and that means no one's off-limits."

Dagger leans in, arms folded like steel cables over his broad chest. "Give me a crew. We'll secure the perimeter, make sure our turf's tight."

"Good," Mason nods, his jaw set like concrete. "Take Bull and Ghost. Set up patrols, keep your eyes peeled for anything that smells like trouble."

I hover at the edge of the room, watching them, feeling the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. This isn't just biker bravado, it's a promise to defend their own at all costs. A world away from lesson plans and gentle reassurances I'm used to giving.

"Everyone clear?" Mason stands tall, a commander rallying his troops. "Let's move out."

"Clear!" The chorus of voices is a unified force, strength resonating in the single word.

As they file out, the determination etched on each face tells a story of unyielding loyalty. I take a deep breath, ready to do my part in the dance of danger and devotion that defines the Iron Reapers.

Mason's shadow falls over me. His hand, rough and calloused, wraps around my wrist, pulling me up to stand face-to-face with him. The urgency in his eyes is like flint striking steel, sparking a fire that makes my heart pound.

"Come with me," he says, voice low and gravelly. It's not a request, it's an order, one I don't think of disobeying.

We move away from the bustle, into the dim hallway that smells like oil and old smoke. Mason's grip on my hand is firm but careful, as if I'm something precious, something he can't afford to break.

"Mason?" My voice is barely above a whisper, a contrast to the chaos outside.

He stops and turns to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Carlie, this shitstorm we're riding into..." He pauses, jaw working like he's grinding down the words before they come out. "You've gotta stay here, with the other old ladies."

"Mason, I—" But he places a finger over my lips, silencing me.

"Listen to me. You're startin' to mean more to me than I expected." His admission hangs heavy in the air, charged with a raw honesty that takes my breath away. "And I can't have you out there where it's gonna get nasty. Promise me, Carlie. Promise you'll stay safe here on the compound."

My throat tightens, but I nod, unable to find the right words. "I promise."

"Good." He leans down, pressing his lips against my forehead in a gesture so tender it feels at odds with the inked warrior I know him to be.

"Stay safe, Mason," I manage, my voice steady though everything inside me is shaking.

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