Cassie
After the reception, Mason had to step out with some of the boys to help another club with some leftover Cartel goons.
As well as the dress, Liz and I had picked out some goodies for the wedding night. I looked at myself in the mirror. The silk nightie hung and clung in all the right places. I smiled and hoped that Mason would like it.
I pulled on a robe and went down to the kitchen to grab the champagne I’d had Diesel pick up for me.
It was odd for the headquarters to be so quiet. Everyone had cleared out for the night, so that Mason and I would have free run of the house. I was looking forward to our wedding night, even though I wouldn’t be the blushing virgin I’d always imagined I’d be..
“Just as well, really,” I laughed to myself. “I’ll probably enjoy it more.”
I heard the sound of a motorcycle and my pulse quickened. Mason was home. I ran over to the kitchen window, which looked out onto the backyard. Sure enough, there was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.
I smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter. Some women just thought of their husbands as their heroes, but mine had actually put his life on the line to rescue me. True, he wasn’t all goodness and light. But were any of us?
I nervously tucked my robe around myself, patted my hair and smacked my lips together to make sure my lip gloss was still in place. The door opened and Mason gave me a curious look.
“Hi,” I said in a ridiculously nervous voice.
“Hi,” Mason said with a furrowed brow.
He looked behind me at the champagne bottle, then his eyes came back to my robe.
“Are you up to something?”
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said honestly. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Mason smiled.
“Me too. So, what are you up to?”
“Grab the ice and cups,” I said, as I turned and headed toward the stairs with the champagne bottle.
Behind me, Mason chuckled as he gathered up the requested items.
Upstairs, I placed the champagne down on the nightstand. There was part of me that wondered if Mason would laugh at my attempt at romance. He hadn’t struck me as the romantic sort, but there had been moments that made me hope he did have some romance in him somewhere.
Mason came in and set the bucket of ice down. He put the champagne on ice and set the glasses on the nightstand.
“So,” he mused, as he eyed my robe again.
I grinned nervously.
“So, I wanted to make the night special. It is our wedding night, after all.”
“I see,” Mason said. “So, what’s with the robe?”
I laughed.
“I wear robes all the time,” I reminded him.
Mason walked over, apparently tired of my game, and pulled the tie loose. I heard the intake of his breath as he spread the robe open.
“Do you like it?” I asked with a hopeful smile.
Mason did not speak. He just nodded before he pulled me to him and took my mouth in a passionate kiss. I kissed him back just as eagerly. I felt like it had been months since he’d held me, though I knew that wasn’t the case. My arms slunk around his neck as his arms locked around my waist, pulling me tight against him. I could feel the movement of him through the silk of my nightdress, the brush of his jeans against my bare legs, and the way my own pulse beat against my skin.
“I want it to be special,” I whispered to him between kisses.
Mason pulled back and eyed me. He gave me a confused look.
“Cassie,” he whispered softly, and my name had never sounded so poignant.
I leaned into him and he gave me the kiss my body had been pleading for. His lips brushed against mine and he kissed me in such a slow, deliberate fashion that I thought I’d cry for the want of more.
His hands slid over the nightie and up to the swell of my breasts. I moaned softly as he caressed them gently. The brush of his thumbs ever so lightly over my nipples through the sheer fabric made a shiver run through me. I moaned at the melting shock of it. He took his time as his mouth left my lips and traveled across my cheek and down my neck. I arched against him at the torturous way he teased my body. Never did I think that gentle could be so cruel.
Before long I was mumbling: “Please. More. Please, Mason.”
“You wanted gentle,” Mason reminded me, as his breath ghosted against the skin of my shoulder.
I shook my head. “Then I’m a fool.”
“No, you’re right. This is quite enjoyable.”
Mason’s words were thick with want, and I knew he felt the same way I did.
“The wait makes it better,” he promised.
Then his lips were back on my skin and I groaned in pleasurable agony.
When he finally stepped back, I followed his movement. I grabbed his hands as he went to remove his jeans. He gave me a curious look as I took over the unbuttoning and unzipping. He helped me slide the jeans down.
The full swell of him fell forward, and I admired the thick shaft as I stroked the length of it gently with my fingertips. Mason was right – gentle was nice – I decided as I watched Mason’s eyelids flutter closed at my touch. His eyes came open when I knelt down and kissed the tip of his cock.
“That feels good,” Mason said softly. “You don’t have to…”
“I want to. Now shush,” I silenced him.
He smiled at me and did as he was told. I slipped my mouth around him, which was harder to do that I had expected. He seemed even larger than before, not that I was complaining. I held his shaft in my fingertips and slid my lips over the head of his cock, drawing and releasing it in slow deliberate strokes. Mason moaned and I smiled before sliding my mouth back around him again. Mason let me have my fun for a bit before he hooked his hands under my arms and lifted me up.
I gave a pout. Mason shook his head.
“Do you really want to make me come that way?”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” I teased him.
“Maybe,” Mason smiled. “But I’d rather be inside of you right now.”
His hand slid down between my legs and under the hem of my nightdress. My legs almost buckled when he slid his fingertip over my sensitive nub. His other arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me right where he wanted me. I could feel his hard dick pressing into my stomach as he stroked me with his fingers. I was soon panting breathlessly.
Words tumbled out of my mouth, words that were useless against the assault of Mason’s hands on my body. I moaned deeply.
“Mason, Please. I can’t take anymore.”
“As you wish,” he whispered, before scooping me up and depositing me onto the bed.
I helped him shed his shirt.
“Leave the nightie on,” he said with a grin as I went to tug it off.
I shook my head at him but did as I was asked.
The pressure of him on top of me was a sensation I adored. I closed my eyes, just to enjoy the weight of him. His kiss brought my eyes open and I wrapped my arms around him to keep him close.
We kissed for what felt like an eternity, as if we’d forgotten other pursuits in favor of exploring each other’s souls through our kiss.
Eventually, Mason pulled back. I gave him an eager smile as he repositioned himself. I spread my legs encouragingly.
When he slid into me, I cried out at the exquisite pleasure of it. His weight came back down on me and he reclaimed my mouth with a kiss as he began lazily moving in and out of me. We moved as one, our bodies coming together as our tongues sparred with one another.
This was exactly what I’d thought my first time would be like. I could have cried, but there was no time for it. We moved together at an ever-quickening pace. No matter the intent, our bodies wanted what they wanted and we had no will to withhold it anymore. I gasped against Mason’s lips as he thrust into me with powerful strokes that sent waves of electricity through my body.
Mason was panting in unison with me as I lifted my hips to meet his every stroke, my body urging his body on as we bucked together again and again. All kissing was forgotten as we clung to each other.
When I finally came, I did so with such force that I finally understood what people meant about toes curling. I felt pleasure spread through me with such intensity that, when it subsided, my body was completely spent in its wake.
Mason collapsed down beside me panting.
“That was,” I panted, “very special.”
Mason laughed breathlessly.
“It was almost painfully special,” he teased.
“But so good,” I said thickly as I rolled over onto my side and laid against him.
He curled his arm behind my back, his hand coming to rest on the nape of my neck. He pulled me over, and I fell willingly into a kiss.
When the kiss broke, Mason smiled.
“Very, very good,” Mason agreed.
“Feel like I don’t have any bones,” I giggled.
“As it should be,” Mason laughed. “Want some champagne?”
“I don’t think I can move.”
“Well, you don’t have to move far. Just scoot up on the bed a bit.”
Mason slid his feet onto the floor and laughed as I collapsed into the space he had vacated.
I pushed myself up and stuck my tongue out at him. He poured the champagne and handed me a glass as I sat back against the headboard and pillows. I took a tentative sip and wrinkl;ed my nose.
“It tickles.”
Mason smiled and held out his glass.
“To us, Mrs. Bartell.”
“To us, Mr. Bartell.”
We clinked glasses.
We drank and then laughed together as some of the champagne dribbled down my chin.
Mason shook his head.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“I have a few ideas,” I said deviously, as I took another sip of my champagne.
Mason grinned and shook his head. He sat his champagne glass down and sighed.
“Work, work. You’re nothing but work. So demanding!”
I giggled as he took my glass and set it back on the nightstand. He leaned over and gave me a kiss.
“I love you,” he whispered softly, and my heart melted.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.