Page 96 of Enemies with Benefits
I didn't even have time to hate myself for returning the kiss with minimal hesitation. Our teeth clicked together once, then twice, but we didn't slow down as I mashed my mouth against his. Heat rippled through me as I tasted whatever drink he'd had before coming outside. I didn't know what it was, but it was sweet, and the taste of bourbon was strong on his tongue as I ran mine over his.
His other hand came down to grip my hip, pulling me even closer and holding me fiercely, nails pushing through the fabric of my shirt and making me hiss in exhalation at the pain. That still wasn't enough to deter me as I brought my hand up to his throat and held him in place. Not that he was trying to get away, but I could feel the rapid flutter of his pulse against my touch, and it sent shockwaves of anticipation through me.
It turns out he’d been right about how I was going to react. Maybe it took an extra push from him, but he’d been right all the same. I could have turned from the kiss, maybe even given him a black eye for his trouble, but I had caved immediately. I could taste the blood from his split lip, and when I moved my mouth, forcing his head up with my hand so I could sink my teeth into his neck, I could taste the salt on his skin.
His hands wrestled with my jeans, and for a moment, I wondered about being caught. It was an out-of-the-way area for sure, but there was still a chance someone might wander back there, even if it was a club employee coming out for a quick smoke. Maybe that would have been enough to make me hesitate, but that was cut off quickly when I felt his hands grip my shaft and pull me free, giving it a squeeze that told me just how much he wanted it in a lot more than just his hand.
Which was swiftly followed by pressure on my hand as he tried to sink down. I knew what he wanted. I didn't even consider denying him, and I moved my hand from his throat to the back of his head as he sank to his knees. Even after weeks of sleeping with him, I never got over the mixed feelings of power and eroticism that came with seeing Mason Beckett willingly on his knees. To watch as he gripped the base of my cock and licked his lips, probably to make it smoother to suck me off, but my brain still saw it as anticipation too.
A groan rumbled out of my chest as he took me into his mouth, sucking me down deep in the next couple of bobs. Another thing I’d never get used to was the sight of my dick disappearing into his throat like some adult party trick. There was enough light in the alley that I could see everything I needed to see. The sweat on his brow, the way his fingers caressed the parts of my shaft he didn't have in his mouth, and the bobbing of his throat as he worked the muscles around the head, groaning as he felt me twitch deep inside him.
I jerked when I felt a slick hand slide up behind me. It wasn't the first time he'd tried something like that, and I probably should have stopped him, but...I didn't. Instead, I tried to enjoy the sensation of his mouth and throat as he found what he was looking for and pushed a digit into me. Never having had anything inside me before, I found myself distracted by the sensation. It was only a finger, but it was distracting enough ashe pushed in deep. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it was strange and new, almost enough to make me want him to stop until his finger shifted and something inside me lit up.
It merged with the feeling of his mouth wrapped around my dick, and a shudder ran through me. A groan, this one from the depths of my chest, came out as he began to move his finger along with his mouth, and I felt a whole new sensation of pleasure, still awkward, but now it was more than tolerable. Jesus, if this was even a taste of what he felt when I put my dick in him, no wonder he lost his mind when I fucked him. I was damn sure that something bigger would feel even more awkward, if not downright painful, but if someone could get past the discomfort and pain of something larger, I'd bet the payoff was even larger too.
Which brought my attention to what I’d wanted from the moment I saw him standing on the steps of his apartment, wearing dark, tight jeans and a shirt that was open enough to see his chest. When he'd turned around to grab what turned out to be the bike helmets, I'd stared at the curve of his ass and knew right then that if I was just a little bolder, I would have pushed him into the apartment and bent him over the nearest surface.
"Lube," I growled, hoping he’d thought to bring it with him even if he had planned on sleeping with me when we got back to his apartment.
His finger slipped from me, and his mouth came off me, and I missed both. Yet I definitely wasn't going to argue with the sight of his flushed face as he peered up at me, lips red and swollen, eyes gleaming with unabashed desire for me. I couldn't remember ever having someone look at me with such open lust and desire before. Maybe it was just because Mason was not afraid to let that sort of thing show, or maybe it was because he was justthatinto me. Maybe it was the first, but something deep in my gut said that the second definitely played a role, and therewas a hunger deep inside me that had never been satiated that wanted to devour that idea.
Instead, I latched onto the sight of him reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a silvery pouch that he held up with a smirk. “What? Did you think I wasn't prepared?"
"The fuck. Were you expecting me to fuck you before we got back?" I asked in annoyance because, of course, he would expect something like that.
"I was tempted to bring you into my office and see if I couldn't convince you to bend me over the desk," he said with a shrug, reaching behind me, shoving his hand into my pocket, and squeezing my ass. "I wasn't sure if it would happen, but it never hurts to be prepared. And by the way, before you rail me against the wall, Iwaspaying attention to you. Which is why I know this is here."
I stared as he pulled something out of my pocket and held it up, flipping it open to show Ryan's name and a number scribbled beneath it. I blinked, faintly remembering that Ryan had done something with my pocket before he'd walked off. I had been distracted, though, so I hadn't paid attention to what it was, quickly dismissing it. I felt annoyance rumble back to life as Mason gave the paper a little wiggle. With a growl, I snatched it from his hand, tossed it away, and took the lube from him, ripping it open with my teeth.
Ignoring the bitter taste as it leaked onto my tongue, I pinched the top, grabbed him by the shoulder, and spun him around so he was facing the wall. He reached down, undoing his pants and wriggling his hips to get them down along with his underwear. They were stretched over his thighs, giving me total access to him. A couple of my fingers had also gotten lube on them, and I pushed them against his hole and inside. He groaned, and I bit my bottom lip as I felt the grip of him aroundmy fingers, the heat squeezing around me, almost drawing me in as I pushed my digits further into him.
There was going to be zero patience for any of the prep we’d grown used to, but somehow I thought Mason already knew that. The tension and desire between us were so intense I’d swear I could almost see it crackling in the air. As I stroked my cock, covering it messily in a thick layer of lube to hopefully ease some of the discomfort from going in without much prep, I was reminded of the smell of him. I was reminded of the smell of a heavy ocean breeze and the tickling smell of lightning from a distant, oncoming thunderstorm headed for shore.
Then he pushed back, his fingers curling against the wall as if he couldn't wait for me to get started. All lofty thoughts were forced out of my head as I stepped forward, one hand gripping my dick to keep it steady and the other grabbing his hip to keep him steady. I pushed the head against him, the pressure building to the point that I wondered if he was too tense, I was too big, and I would need to waste more time getting him?—
"Fuck," he hissed as all the pressure popped not only the head of my cock in, but the first inch or so of the shaft as well. All I could manage was a harsh grunt as I felt him squeeze around me with a grip that threatened to send me over the edge. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I thought it was more likely that I was amped up so much that even the hot grip of his insides felt almost too much, I was just too sensitive.
That didn't stop me from pushing further, however, biting down on the urge to come right there and to bury myself in one instant. I could already sense that I was pushing his limits, but not once did he hint that he wanted me to stop. I knew I couldn't go too deep too quickly, but I had to dosomething. The best I could manage was to saw back and forth, rocking my hips to keep moving, but also making sure I didn't go too deep.
It worked wonders, since the grip around my dick was slacking off quickly as I rocked deeper, finding a new depth and a new grip, but making progress all the time. It didn't take me long to get all the way in, my hips pressing tightly against his ass, but it felt like it took forever. My hands had shifted, one was still holding his hip, but the other held tight to his shoulder as I stayed in place, carefully breathing even though I knew the minute I started moving, my thin thread of self-control was going to snap.
I wiggled my hips, and he gave a low, plaintive groan that was all I needed for what came next. I slid out halfway before pushing forward quickly, grunting as his insides held me tightly but no longer in a painful grip. A shiver ran through me as I pulled back until only my head was still inside him. There was a moment where I savored the anticipation of what was about to happen, fairly confident that he was doing the same thing. It was only a moment, though, and I pushed forward, burying myself with a swift jerk of my hips and yanking a faint groan out of him.
It had been smooth, and that was all I needed to know to start working my hips with complete abandon. I didn't even care that the sounds of my hips meeting his ass were loud, cracking sounds that echoed off the wall and might be heard from outside the alley. Just like I didn't care that his groans were getting louder, I started really pounding when I heard his moans take a deeper note. My angle shifted slightly as I changed my footing.
The hand on his shoulder now pushed his head against the wall, holding him in place. That way, I could see his features as they twisted beautifully while I pounded away at him. Which really was the best way to see it, because I was setting what should have been a punishing pace as I pistoned my hips. Except there was no punishment to be found because despite my grip now on the back of his neck being tight enough that the tips of my fingers were digging into his throat, there was no way he wasgettingjustpleasure from how hard I was fucking him, Mason was taking every bit of punishment that I was doling out and enjoying it.
"Oh fuck, Jace, I..." he began to gasp, and my eyes narrowed as I felt his body go taut. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd sounded like that, but before he could reach down to take hold of himself, I grabbed his wrist and kept fucking him, now using his arm as leverage. He had no choice but to use his other hand to keep himself upright on the wall as his desperate groans became cries of pleasure.
I was rewarded seconds later as he squeezed around me, and I knew he was painting the wall in front of him. It could have just been the sensation of him bearing down around me with renewed intensity, but really, it was the knowledge that I'd once again fucked him so hard and so well that he was coming untouched that snapped the last bit of control I had. With a snarl, I yanked him back by his neck so our bodies were flush and shoved myself as deep as I could. His breaths came out in harsh pants as we both felt me twitch and jerk inside him, filling him up as deep as I could manage, staying there until every last drop was out and claiming him utterly.
"Fuck," he breathed, and I turned his face toward me, still savoring the feeling of him wrapped around me as I brought his mouth to mine. The kiss was less intense, but there was still an edge to it as I nipped his bottom lip a little more roughly than I should have, especially considering his busted lip. Yet he chuckled, some of his old self coming back as he stood there, letting me hold him against me.
No, perhaps it wasn't fair to say his 'old self'. Because the same man who let me use and practically abuse him for sex was the same man who was completely and utterly in charge of his life at any other time. The man who happily let me use his body for my pleasure was the same man who would refuse tolet me cross a line or to allow anyone to control him. They were both the same person, and while trying to blend them created a bizarre kaleidoscope that left me dizzy at times, they were essential parts of him. Just like the gentle, almost vulnerable version of him that liked to come out after sex, particularly after a rough round, was also part of that whole that made up Mason.
A whole that...well, how many people actually got to see? I was sure his family saw a lot more of the softer, laid-back side of him when he was around just them. The whole world got to see just how in control and unflappable he was in the rest of his life. The workers here and the patrons got to see when he was serious about his work, how he could be focused, and how he knew how to keep others under control.
But how many had seen the way he was in complete control during intimate moments, and yet could essentially roll over and let another take control if they were forceful enough? I doubted many people had seen that submissive side, the side that threw away control and let another person have it, even if it was just for a moment. And of those few, I would bet there were even fewer people who had seen all those parts of him, who had seen those mirror images of him that still looked different from one another and demanded to be put together despite no logic making them fit.
