"I have serious feelings for you," Mason says, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "I hope that's okay."

For me to say I don't have feelings for this man would be a lie. And shit. Actually hearing him say that he does feel something for me? It makes me feel so good I could cry. Studying the light in his dusky eyes, I smile up at him and nod. But before I can open my mouth to say anything, Mason descends and kisses me hard, with a force I never realized he had. The ferocity of his fire causes my mind to explode in an excruciating desire.

Wrapping me in his sturdy hold, he walks me backward while his lips continue to crash into mine, the fervor that's built between us all night finally coming to fruition here in his childhood bedroom. As we reach the bed, Mason lays me back, my knees buckling at the bed frame. Following me down, he hovers over top of me, and I notice a dim reflection of myself in the lens of his glasses.

"Are you sure you want all of this with me?"

The sentiment makes my heart hurt at how sensitive and protective of me he is. But I can't deny how much I want him tonight. My feelings having multiplied by thousandths since we first met. And the answer is yes. "Yeah," I whisper, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him back down to me.

And without letting me draw in a full breath of air, he swiftly silences me with another heady kiss that pulls hums of pleasure from deep within me. We stay this way for a minute, making out surrounded by nineties music posters and band trophies, his tongue slipping in and out of my mouth, making my mind melt into a puddle on the edge of his bed. But I want more. My core aching for him, I break away and inch further up toward the headboard of the bed and peel my tank top and bra off.

Following me, his gaze lands on my bare breasts. "Fuck," he says on a breathy exhale. Sweeping his tongue across his lips to taste the remnants of our kiss, he shakes his head. "You are unbelievable."

Smiling, I toss my tank and bra to the floor. "Because of my tits? It's not like you haven't seen them before."

Chuckling, he plucks his glasses from his face and sets them on the bedside table and sits on the bed next to me. "Not like this, I haven't."

He wants me. I know he does. And I knew he wanted me the moment we made out in the meadow at the Boxley Brother concert. But tonight, I can see it in the way his eyes bore into me, wild and unforgiving.

Crawling toward him, I straddle his lap. Immediately, I feel the length of him through his jeans, and I decide I have to have him.

Pulling me up to his lips, he drowns me in the pure taste of him. Urging my hips down on top of him, I slowly grind myself against his jeans. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I pull it over his head, stopping our kiss only to rid him of his top.

His hands drift over my bare curves, and when he reaches for my chest, I gasp against his lips as his thumbs find my sensitive nipples.

"Mason?" I moan his name in question.

"Yeah."

Nose-to-nose, I stare at him, watching the desire in his eyes multiply as he slips his fingers down my sides, inching the waistband of the boxer briefs he'd given me to sleep in. "I need you to take your jeans off because I can't wait much longer."

His eyes grow big as quarters as I stand up on the bed and step out of the boxer briefs. Launching off the mattress, he practically jumps out of his jeans and boxers. When he returns to the bed, I'm still standing there, entirely naked from head-to-toe. His lips curl upward as he walks to the edge of the bed and holds out a hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me over to him and presses his cheek to my abdomen in a sensual, soft hug, clasping the side of his face to me as if he might hear the ocean inside me.

"You're perfect," he whispers.

When I drop down to the bed, he climbs on top of me and drinks in the sight of me pinned beneath him. I can feel the heat from his skin all over my body. And anticipation runs wild in me as he trails a series of brutally slow kisses down the entire length of my torso. Drifting back up, he settles himself between the part in my legs and traces the outline of my jaw with his lips.

When he meets my gaze, I feel him press himself inside me, joining our bodies as one.

With a gasp, I reach for his arms. Furrowing his brow, his dark, glass-less eyes are full of concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nod in a fixed pleasure. Grasping at his hips, I urge him on and feel him shudder against me with the first shallow movements that set my core ablaze. Though he moves slow, he pushes hard against me, leaving me panting in hushed moans. I've never felt so alive or connected to another human being in my life. I can't get enough of him, and I let him know as I bury my fingers in his hair and devour his lips in a kiss he can't escape.

Grasping at my thighs, he pulls me closer against him as he rocks his hips in a slow, measured fury. My body responds in a swell of passion that leaves me clutching at whatever piece of him I can grab as he pushes me beyond the edge and into a freefall of pleasure. I tremble beneath his weight as a thick, guttural groan rumbles in his chest.

"I fucking love you," I whisper hard, the words painfully escaping my lips as if they're pinpricks of joy. At my affection, he thrusts the last of his energy into me and exhales in a final, wavering moan that falls over my face. Sinking on top of me, he collapses, robbing me of my breath. And while I never want this to end, I don't complain when he rolls off of me and pulls me into the crook of his hot arm. Did I seriously just accidentally tell this man that I love him? During sex, no less? Judging by his calm, quiet demeanor, I'm sure he didn't hear me. But still. What is wrong with me?

A light sheen of sweat clings to our bodies where we were pressed together, and I match my breaths to his as I feel the rise and fall of his chest with our aftermath.

He kisses the crown of my head, rubbing his hand up and down my arm like he had in the pool over an hour ago. "Are you tired?" he asks, pausing only to reach over and turn off the bedside lamp throwing us into complete darkness.

Laying there tucked next to him, my cheeks burning with the embarrassing words I hope he missed, I nod, my hair mussing against his skin. Wishing this moment would last forever, alone, quiet, together in every since of the word, I press my hot cheek to his chest as he continues to draw lines up and down me with the graze of his fingertips. Sleeping means morning will come, but I'm so exhausted, I can't help but succumb to the lull of slumber beside Mason.