Page 61 of Rival
He sets my fingers just above my clit, pushing my wrist lower until the tips graze my swollen and over sensitized skin. I jolt from the touch. “There you go, girl. Play with your clit and hold on.”
Letting me go, his hand finds the other side of my hip, his fingers damp from my arousal as he slams into me mercilessly. With my mouth hanging open, I circle my finger, trying to keep up with him.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. I need you to hurry up and come, or I’m going to finish without you.” He’s panting hard, and I turn my cheek to glance at him through slitted eyes, my mouth hanging open on a silent cry.
I’m aware that we’re in the middle of the road and I say a silent thank you to whoever is listening that no cars have shown up, or that my father hasn’t decided to turn back home.
Mason’s hips push against me over and over, forcing my fingers to rub against my clit without me even trying, and I can feel a deep need building. I learned with Griffin what this feelslike, so I’m prepared for the explosion as it rapidly overtakes my body and I scream into my arm that’s reaching above my head.
With my body jerking hard and forcing me onto my toes, Mason shouts as he rapid fires his thrusts, then holds himself deep and still as his length pulses inside of me.
“Fuck.Yes!” he barks out, pulling back and pushing into me again, shooting another wave of pleasure through me. Jerking once more against my body, he falls forward, bracing his arms around my shoulders, and breathes heavily against the back of my neck.
My body starts to shiver as I come down and I turn my head further toward him to see his face. He’s got his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades, his body still inside of me. I’m afraid to move, but I’m looking for any kind of affection from him right now.
Maybe now he’ll touch me, kiss me even, and tell me he enjoyed this. I think I did…
Finally, Mason lifts himself from me and slips from my body, both of us groaning when he’s free. I stay laying on the tailgate, afraid to move.Unableto move as he pulls the condom off and tosses it tied into the back of the truck. He’s pulling his pants back up and righting himself, so I take a deep, slow breath and stand.
“You need to get your pants on before someone shows up and drives past.” His voice is cold. Shame starts to swirl where there was only pleasure moments before.
Nodding, I reach down and tug my jeans up, wincing when the abrasive jeans press against my tender skin. There’s only my wetness left behind since he wore a condom, but I still feel like I could use a shower.
Keeping my head down, I silently plead with him to give me something, any type of reassurance right now, but he stays silent. Once we’re both put back together, he hesitates.
“You good?”
“Y—” My voice catches, and I clear my throat before trying again. “Yes… are, umm, are you?”
“I’m perfect.” He won’t meet my eyes as he backs away from me. “I need to get to town to grab some shit for my parents.” Checking his watch, he adds, “Work starts in half an hour. If you need a minute, you can show up a little late.”
That swirling shame deepens and starts rolling through me until it settles in my chest. “I’ll be there. I won’t be late.”
“Good.” Finally, he meets my eyes, but I can’t read him. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Then Mason lifts his chin toward my drive. “Best get home and cleaned up first.”
I don’t know what to say. All of my words are buried deep, so I nod again and spin around, ignoring the pulsing throb between my legs as I jog toward my house. I’m tempted to stop and run back to him, but the engine of his truck starts up and I hear him drive away from me.
Blinking rapidly, I bury everything I’m feeling as deep as I can and race to the house until I’m standing under my shower where I let it all free.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mason
Idon’t know if I’m pissed at Edith or myself more. No, fuck that. I’m fucking pissed at her goddamn dad.
My fingers curl over the steering wheel as I clench my teeth. “Fuckin’ asshole.” I can’t stop the words from pouring out as I pull up to park in front of my parents’ house. Mom needed me to pick up dad’s meds this morning, so I grab the brown paper bag and slam my door shut, shoving the keys into my pocket.
This itching energy that I thought would go away after fucking Edith is still crawling up my spine, but it’s shifted to something that feels more like guilt for how I treated her when I was mad at her father.
Could I have been easier on her?Probably. Definitely, actually. But I was so furious at him for swinging at me when I wasn’t prepared or expecting it. Then she had to go and give me those wide eyes, begging me not to hurt her daddy when he so clearly deserved to be splayed out with a busted jaw. It never should have just beenmewho left that joke of a fight with an injury.
Edith probably left with one, considering how hard I railed into her. I know it couldn’t have been comfortable and another wave of regret crashes into me.I didn’t even check to see if she was ready first.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
I set my keys on the counter and toss the bag into my dad’s lap. “Fuckin’ Clayborn,” I growl, then sit in my mom’s chair. I can hear her moving around in the kitchen, but I don’t want to bother her with this just yet. “Asshole came screamin’ out of his drive on my way into town and about ran me off the road. I got in his face about it and he took a swing.”
“Needs to be locked up, if you ask me.” Dad eyes me, then glances toward the kitchen. “Best get that covered up before your momma sees. She’ll spend the mornin’ worryin’ about ya and fussin’ like a ninny.”
