Page 64 of Fallen Hearts

Unbelievable.

“Mason,” I said, louder.

“Not good enough,” he whispered, this time directly into my ear. “Guess I’ll just have to play with your clit too.”

His words, coupled with the fact that his thumb did exactly as he promised, meant Mason got exactly what he wished.

“Mason,” I cried, unable to hold back as the most easily wrought orgasm of my life took over my body.

“That’s it. Come all over my fingers.”

His words only intensified the throbbing between my legs. That and having wanted Mason to touch me since we met.

“Oh my God,” I said as the pulses ebbed. Except, I didn’t have time for an afterglow. Mason was already tugging down my pants. His kiss was so intense that I swear, if I wasn’t so busy unbuttoning and unzipping Mason’s jeans, I probably could have had another orgasm.

The second my hand found him, Mason’s intake of breath was all the reward I needed. When I began to stroke him, the fact that he began to lose control—the man who was always, always, in control—made me want to please him even more.

Mason broke off our kiss and helped me out by standing, removing his jeans and underwear, as I did the same and fully ditched my own.

“Fuck, Pia. Look at you.”

“Look at me?” I glanced down. He was hard, huge and so ready for me. “You’re like a sculpture, Mason. Oh,” I added. “I’m on the pill.”

It was as if the floodgates had been opened. He pulled me toward him, grabbed both ass cheeks with his hands, and squeezed. His mouth covered mine as I pulled him close, our movements almost frantic.

How he got me to the couch, I wasn’t sure. But as my head hit the pillow and I watched Mason use his knee to separate my legs, it hit me for the first time, somehow.

“We’re doing this,” I blurted as Mason’s fingers once again slipped inside me.

“This?” he asked, almost smiling. “In the interest of talking as dirty as my sweet Pia requested,” he said, a second finger joining the first as my hips lifted to meet him, “let’s call it what it is.”

Kneeling between my legs, with his dick so hard I couldn’t stop staring, Mason licked his lips as he continued to work magic between my legs. “I’m going to fuck you so damn hard, Pia, that when you scream my name this time it will make that last one sound like a kitten’s meow.”

Oh my God.

Just like that, his fingers were gone. Moving over me, he braced himself between my legs. I reached down to guide him into me, unable to wait any longer. “Please,” I said, bringing the tip of him to me. “Mason, please.”

“Tell. Me.”

“Oh God, no. Just do it. Please.”

“Do what, Pia?”

This was hard Mason. Ranger Mason. He would never relent.

“Fuck me, Mason,” I said.

And so he did. Thrusting into my absolutely drenching wetness—probably as wet as I’d ever been in my life—he buried himself full hilt. Grabbing onto his shoulders, when Mason’s lips found mine, I held on for dear life. He wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t need him to be. I needed the man who knew what he wanted, and at this moment, Mason wanted me.

I met every thrust, my hips swaying in perfect rhythm to his as Mason’s thumb found my clit and began to press and circle it. I wanted to call out, but his tongue mimicked our movements down below. No, not mimicked, anticipated. It was as if he was giving me a preview of every thrust.

My nails dug into him.

Lifting his head, Mason looked into my eyes, and I couldn’t decide which was hotter, his kisses or his stare. So intense.

With one thrust, so deep that the pleasure-pain line came close to being crossed, he paused.

“Are you gonna come for me again, sweet Pia?”

---