Page 72 of Penalty Box
“Jesus, Cass… You’re soaked.”
He pressed forward, slow but steady, and I arched into him, gasping as he filled me up. All the way. My walls stretched around him, clamping tightly, making his cock twitch.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I said, breath shallow. I couldn’t tell whose heartbeat was racing, but felt it through my whole body.
“Me too.” And he kissed me again, tongue plunging in with more hunger and urgency than before.
It knocked the last breath from my lungs, but I didn’t fight it. If this was how I went, then so be it. At least I was happy.
And lying… The little voice in the back of my head was like a needle scratch on an old record player. I was lying to my dad. Mason thought I was beautiful and a good person, but I was nothing more than a coward.
I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him closer. As if the full force of him would drive out all those unwanted thoughts. In his arms, none of that could reach me. He was the only truth I wanted to hold onto.
Still, Mason didn’t move. He buried himself inside me and stayed that way, beads of sweat forming on his brow from how hard he worked to hold onto his restraint. His mouth found my neck again, and he trailed kisses over my skin until I couldn’t hold still. I practically clawed at him, a fire in a locked room, wild and desperate to escape.
“Don’t stop.”
He pulled out then, just enough that the head of his cock was still inside me. And, without breaking eye contact, he pushed back in. Slowly. Hot breath making my lips tingle in the absence of having his mouth on mine. I rolled my hips to match the rhythm he set with purposeful, grinding strokes that sent a shockwave of arousal rippling down my spine, my legs, to pool with white hot heat in my aching pussy. He dragged his lips along my shoulder, murmuring things I couldn’t hear over the thrumming heartbeat in my ears.
I threw back my head and let go.
Every thrust lit something inside me, something molten and desperately alive. A muffled whimper fluttered out of me before I could stop it, and Mason quickly swallowed it in, his mouth claiming mine in a feverish kiss. His hand slid between us, thumb brushing over my stiff nipple. Tugging, rolling, making me moan into his mouth. Then his touch floated lower still… thumb brushing over my swollen clit, circling it with just enough pressure.
There was no stopping it.
Something between a sob and a groan broke free from my chest, and I got swept up in a climax that wracked through me. Trembling, I gripped his ass cheeks and angled my pussy at the same time. Bringing him deeper. Holding him there while I clenched and pulsed around his throbbing cock.
Muscles taut and shaking, his pace picked up. Not frantic, just deliberate. Chasing something we’d both been too afraid to reach for until now.
“I don’t want this to end,” he whispered against my flushed skin. “I don’t want this to just be tonight.”
God.
Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back quickly, refusing to let them fall. Because there was no telling how this would end. His literal career hung in the balance. Something that couldn’t be fucked into submission.
His fingers tightened on my hip, and he kissed me again. Open and needy. I was still caught up in the throes of my climax that seemed to be carried on by his relentless thrusting, stretching it out until my brain was blank with ecstasy. I was barely keeping it together, quaking and tense around him.
It wasn’t long before he followed with a strangled groan, hips thrusting deep as he emptied into me, head buried in the crook of my neck. I held him through it, running my fingers through his hair, down his back, my heart breaking and blooming at the same time.
We stayed like that, tangled and breathless, in the quiet haze of after. Untouchable, almost.
He shifted to kiss my jaw, then my temple. “You’re amazing.”
I smiled, blissed out, but not so much that I could graciously accept the compliment.
“I don’t feel like that sometimes.”
His brow furrowed, and a shadow passed over his features. “What do you mean?”
I snuggled closer, wanting to keep the warmth of him for as long as I could. He brought his arm to lazily wrap around my waist. His heart thudded on my cheek.
“I don’t know,” I said eventually. “Sometimes I look at you… Doing press, taking all that attention on the ice—it’s so foreign to me. I always feel like I’m living out my life in the shadows. Not really seen, you know? Forever a cog in the background of the machine.”
He was quiet for a long time after that, and at first I thought I’d lost him to post-coital sleep. But then he kissed the top of my head.
“If we keep doing what we’re doing… Which, I really hope we do,” he chuckled softly, “then you’ll be sharing the spotlight with me sooner rather than later.”
The idea was enough to cool the searing heat in my veins. All this time, and it never occurred to me. I thought of Josie and how easily she took to her role as Grayson’s other half. Painfully public.
