Chapter Eleven
Mason took the stairs two at a time, resisting the urge to stop at Hannah’s apartment on the way to his own. While she showered, he’d gone out for food and supplies. His quick trip had taken so long she might be at his place already. When he opened the door to his empty apartment, he was both disappointed and relieved. Even after making love to her earlier in a way that would be on his personal sexual highlight reel forever, he wanted her again. But he also wanted to be prepared. For anything.
He dropped the takeout bag on the counter and carried the bag of tea lights into his bedroom. He scattered the tiny candles about the room. If he hadn’t had to wait for the food, he would have skipped this step entirely.
Hearing the knock at the front door, he scooted out of the room, closing the door behind him. He hoped she’d try it, but it didn’t half matter if she backed out. As long as she stayed the night in his bed.
He pulled the two taper candles out of the bag and stuck them in the skinny shot glasses from the cupboard. He set them on the table and lit them as she knocked again.
He killed the lights and dashed for the door. Opening it, he raised an eyebrow at her coat.
“Did you take a walk while you were waiting for me to get back?”
“Something like that.” She stepped past him into the room. “It smells like a Chinese restaurant in here.”
“There’s good reason for that.” He kissed her cheek and scrambled to the kitchen, cursing himself for falling asleep instead of eating lunch. He was starving. The sooner they ate, the sooner they could get on with the evening.
“What do you have planned for tonight?” She dug her hands into her coat pockets.
“First, we eat.” He pulled the takeout boxes from the bag without looking up. “I’m hungry, and we’ll need our energy for later.”
His grin faded as he looked up to find her gloriously naked in the middle of his living room, candlelight licking over her body. God, but she was impossibly beautiful. Her kind of beauty made his knees weak, his pulse race, and his mouth water. He loved the way she made him feel.
“Later,” he growled, dropping the box of fried rice on the counter.
“No, you’re right. First, we eat.”
“With you naked? I don’t think so.” Her hand flat against his chest stopped him. For now.
“Yes, with me naked. And you fully clothed. I told you earlier. We need to reset the balance of power in this relationship.”
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her flush against him. To hell with food. He’d just eat her. “You already did.”
As he leaned in to kiss her, she stalled his lips with her finger. “Are you sure you want this to be your anything? Because that’s definitely a one-shot deal.”
…
The gleam in Mason’s too-blue eyes made anticipation curl in her lower belly. He wanted her. So much so it radiated off him. And she had an insatiable desire for this man that defied explanation. She removed her finger from his lips and parted her own, greedy for what he had in store for her.
“You’re right. I don’t want to waste it. Who knows when you’ll offer me anything again?” He released her and stalked back to the kitchen. He must know what he was doing to her.
She followed him, wishing she hadn’t kicked off her sandals. Why hadn’t she worn the stilettos from earlier, or better yet, the come-get-me boots? Yes, he wouldn’t have walked away from those.
He poured water into a teakettle and set it on the stove, piled the food onto plates, and set them on the table. Hannah wondered if she’d actually be able to go through with her dare and eat naked. It sounded like a great dieting trick.
She’d intended to end her trepidation about agreeing to anything with her naked-beneath-her-coat stunt. She’d seriously underestimated his willpower. Time to turn up the heat. She stepped into the kitchen and cocked her hip on the counter. “Where did you go?”
“Go? Oh, you mean for dinner.” He didn’t look at her and kept his hands busy with opening and closing takeout boxes. “Jen Dynasty. It’s only three blocks away, and they have really good Kung Pao. I remembered you like spicy.” His hands gripped the counter as she stepped closer.
“I like hot, but spicy is good, too.”
His knuckles went white, but still he didn’t look at her. “There’s a difference?”
She turned his face to look at her. “Hot is you and me. Spicy is you and me and a pair of handcuffs.” His eyes threw sparks right through her as his breath came out in a rush that bordered on a growl.
He closed his eyes as she traced his lips with her fingers. But still he made no move to touch her.
“You must really want anything.”
Mason nodded. “I do. But if you touch me again, I’m never going to make it.”
She wanted him so badly she could taste it. And he’d just admitted he was hers if she tried anything. Curiosity stilled her from pouncing and taking him here in the kitchen. If he was willing to wait, anything must be pretty damned fantastic.
The teakettle whistled to life behind them, and Mason jumped into motion. He pulled a teapot out of a cupboard and dropped some teabags in before filling it with water. “You actually own a teapot?”
Mason nodded. “I got it a few weeks ago when I gave up coffee.” She just made out the side of his grin as he placed everything on the table.
He couldn’t have given up coffee just because she didn’t like the vile brew. “Because of what happened at the coffee shop?”
“Yes, because of what happened at the coffee shop.” He winked at her. Winked? He motioned for her to sit down and waited until she did before he sat. God bless his mother.
Hannah was thankful he hadn’t bothered with chopsticks as she surveyed the plate. Kung Pao chicken, orange beef, chow mein, and fried rice. All things she’d be wearing if she’d even attempted to use chopsticks. Which served to remind her she wasn’t wearing anything at all.
“Can I ask you about this anything you have planned?” Hannah lifted a forkful of rice to her mouth. Jasmine rice. Her favorite.
“It’s more of a show than a tell.” He was careful to keep his gaze on hers.
“Sounds interesting.” She leaned back in the chair, changing his view. He slammed his eyes shut, and she hid her smile when he opened them again. “I’m just wondering what to expect. You know, if I need to be prepared.”
He shook his head. “That will never happen again. And for the record, I didn’t have a condom on purpose.”
She cocked an eyebrow his way. “That’s an interesting excuse.”
“It was my lame attempt not to jump you the moment I saw you. Didn’t work, so from now on, I’ll always be prepared.”
“What a good Boy Scout. Trying to earn your safe-sex merit badge?”
“You go ahead and keep teasing me.” His eyes twinkled before he dropped his head and concentrated on shoveling food into his mouth. Passion came out in everything he did. Work, food, sex. She slid her bare foot across the floor, found his ankle, and rubbed up the leg of his jeans. His fork froze in the air, but he didn’t look up. “Hannah,” he warned.
“Yes?” she asked sweetly, picking up the mug of tea he’d poured her. Jasmine tea. She sipped again. The same blend she drank at home.
“Are you about done?”
“Done with what?” She ran her toe higher. He caught her foot between his knees, making her gasp as he held it there.
“Done taunting me.” His voice was low and gravelly. “Quit trying to back out.”
“Mason, I’m naked in your kitchen. I hardly call that backing out.”
“You’re trying to run the show, but this is my turn. My fantasy. I played along, and so should you.”
“You enjoyed yourself.”
“And so will you if you just relax.” Mason rubbed his hands across his thighs, still holding her foot captive. “Hannah, those handcuffs were a one-time deal. Well, maybe not one time, but at least until you make district manager.”
When she laughed, he released her foot and resumed eating.
What exactly did he have planned? Hannah’s eyes darted around the apartment. Why was his bedroom door closed? It had been open the last time she was here. Adrenaline pumped through her as she turned her gaze back to him.
The man dripped with sex appeal, but just how kinky was he? Had he been putting on a show about not wanting to use the handcuffs? Just what had she gotten herself into?
“Relax, Hannah.” Mason’s fork clanked on his plate as he pushed away from the table.
“I didn’t say a word.” She looked up at him as he moved their plates into the sink.
“You didn’t have to. You were doing that thing with your eyes. I usually like it, but this time blue was definitely winning.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He stepped to stand in front of her. “You’re having second thoughts.”
She was. She really was. But this new position gave her a whole new plan. She could have his jeans around his ankles in fifteen seconds. What man said no to oral sex?
Mason grabbed her hands, jerked her up, and plastered her body against his.
“Wait. Aren’t we going to have dessert first?”
Mason’s laugh was wicked and slow. “Honey, you are dessert.”
…
Mason was in his bedroom preparing for who knows what kind of kinky game while Hannah paced outside the door and wondered just what she was willing to do. Surely not anything.
But how could he know? How could he know she’d pushed her own sexual envelope further in the last week with him than she had in her entire life? She simply wasn’t prepared for his kind of anything. “Mason?” She hated the way her voice squeaked when she was nervous. “I think I’ve—”
He swung the bedroom door open, and the air from the room rushed over her as she peeked inside. The room was bathed in soft candlelight, dozens of tiny flames flickering against the walls. It looked beautiful, not at all scary.
“You were about to chicken out.” It wasn’t even a question, and there was no point in denying it.
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. His room was much bigger than hers. The wood floors were the same, but he had space for a desk and chair. A large mattress and heavy mission-style bedframe dominated the room. He’d pulled down the hunter-green comforter, and she saw the navy flannel sheets and pillowcases. Still holding her hand, he neared the bed. Hannah noticed a pillow in the middle of the bed and gasped as she recognized what was on top of it.
“But that’s…” Hannah motioned to the vibrator she knew had fresh batteries.
“Yours? I know. I took it from your nightstand.”
Metal glinted in the candlelight. “And those are the handcuffs.”
“Turnabout is fair play. And you did say anything.”
She had. But did she really mean it? What did he have planned? Her stomach clenched. “Mason, I don’t think I can.” She sat on the bed, her back to the pillow. She closed her eyes as the mattress sagged beside her.
He tucked her hair behind her ear and asked, “What can’t you do?”
Visions flashed through her mind of all the variations. Thrilled, tantalized, terrified. She swallowed hard. He cupped her face in his hands and turned her to him, brushing his lips against hers. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of him, of the room. Jasmine-scented candles? How did he always know what she liked without having to be told?
She parted her lips, inviting him inside so she could feast on all he had in store. She moaned as the kiss deepened, stirring the passion within her. Moving her hands to his chest, she encountered his sweater. “One of us has on entirely too many clothes.”
Mason’s hand drifted over her shoulder until he was palming her breast. “Not you,” he said with a squeeze.
He released her and pulled the sweater over his head. His laugh was almost sinister as he stood beside the bed and peeled off his jeans. He hadn’t been wearing underwear.
He swung her legs to the middle of the bed and pounced on top of her. Hannah closed her eyes tightly. In this position, she was right next to the pillow. Just what was he planning on doing with the handcuffs, her vibrator? She shuddered at the thrill and the uncertainty.
“Are you cold?” he asked, lowering his naked body over hers.
Cold? No. About to spontaneously combust at the sensation? Absolutely. She shook her head as he kissed her neck and stretched her arms up. She relaxed against him until she realized he might intend to keep them there. “Mason,” she pleaded, trying to free herself from his grasp, but it only made him grab her tighter. Her breath quickened as she looked into his eyes. “You have to tell me what you’re going to do.”
“I do?” He ducked his head and traced a line from her collarbone to her ear with the tip of his tongue that had her arching off the bed.
“Please.” She wanted to know so she could give herself over to the sensations he doused her with.
She heard the handcuffs clink around her wrists before the cool metal locked her hands above her head, anchoring her to his bedframe.
“Much better.” He silenced her protests with his mouth, kneading her breasts in his hands.
His kiss was soft and gentle, like his touch. She’d gladly let him touch her like this all night. “You don’t need the cuffs, Mason. I’m yours for whatever you need.”
He kissed a path from her mouth, down her chin to her neck. He flattened his tongue against her nipple. As he spoke, his breath tickled her damp sensitive flesh. “I need for you to not rush me.”
He sucked her nipple deep in his mouth. The connection went all the way to her core, causing her to arch off the bed. He released her, wrapped his fingers around hers, and molded her hands against the rail he’d cuffed her to. “Hold on to this or you’ll hurt your wrists.”
“I can hold on to it without the handcuffs.”
“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” Mason’s attentions were on her breasts again. This time, he rolled her nipples between his fingers, leaned down, and let the rough stubble of his cheek make her writhe.
She wanted more. She craved that feeling of completeness she’d only found with him. She wrapped her legs around his body and pulled him down on top of her. Shifting her hips, she almost had him.
He cursed and pulled up, both hands pressing her hips into the mattress. The gleam in his eye told her he wanted it as much as she did. “I told you not to rush me.”
“I need you inside of me. Now.”
“Me?” He breathed against her ear, still careful to hold her down.
“Yes, you. BOB hasn’t done a thing for me since the first time we were together.”
He reared back. “Bob?”
“Battery Operated Boyfriend, Mason.” She wiggled, but he held her tightly. “You get so jealous. I’m surprised you’d be willing to share even with my vibrator.”
His head hung down. She felt his gaze drinking in her body. “I’m not sharing you with anything.”
“Then why did you bring it?”
“I told you, it’s more of a show then a tell.”
“Then show me.”
“Not yet.” He released her hips but moved to the side before she clutched him with her legs again. He danced his tongue across her body, tasting her breasts, tickling her ribs, circling her belly button. He crawled between her legs as he went lower and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her navel, fanning sensations throughout her body. She gripped the bedframe tighter as he spread her legs and rested them on his shoulders. He took each of her outer lips in his mouth and sucked.
He somehow communicated with her responses on a level even she was unaware of. He spread her open and plunged his tongue inside. She tried to move, but his body had her anchored below and the handcuffs from above. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do but surrender to his desire. A surrender she’d never known, never considered.
His mouth did things to her she never thought possible. She stopped trying to even pay attention to what he was doing and just gave herself over to the feeling. Whether he was using his tongue, his teeth, his fingers, or his breath, she didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop. Trapped as she was, there was no way to even encourage him except with her voice, but the sounds she heard couldn’t be coming from her.
Her whole body tensed as the release began, relaxing her in waves from head to toe. Waves crashed against a rocky shoreline, building and breaking, releasing in a smooth foam that melted into the sand.
From somewhere, she came back down, realizing he’d stopped at some point. She focused on her breathing, trying to bring her heart rate under control so she could hear something over the pounding in her ears.
He pried her fingers from the bedframe. He was going to release her. Wonderful. She’d thank him in a minute, once she caught her breath and found enough energy to open her eyes.
He skimmed his hands over her body, every inch of her sensitized to his touch. Finally, she could move and she pressed herself into his talented hands. Except her hands were still bound. She opened her eyes. “Mason?”
The ceiling spun as he rolled her over as if she were a rag doll. Quickly, he lifted her hips and placed a pillow beneath her. She stared at her fingers as she again grasped the bedframe. She swallowed hard, her throat dry from panting. He skimmed his hands up her legs and squeezed her ass. She squeezed her eyes tightly as her stomach clenched. Was this what he’d meant by anything?
He spread her legs, and the mattress sank where he knelt between them. He slipped his fingers down her swollen slit, making her moan and open herself to him more. She heard a familiar hum, and the gears started turning in her brain. She thrashed her head from side to side and gripped the bedframe tighter. “Mason, I want you, just you. Please. Just you.”
Mason lowered his body on hers, pressing her deeper into the mattress. It robbed her of breath before he lifted up, holding his weight off of her. “You’ll have me.” His mouth massaged the tension from her neck, his tongue sending shivers down her spine. The tip of the vibrator slid beneath her, not entering but pulsing insistently against her clit. She sucked in a breath, overcome by the sensation while she was still so sensitive.
Mason placed an open-mouthed kiss on the base of her neck, massaging deeper and deeper. He pulled her hips upward, opening her further to him. He slid inside in one long, smooth motion. Breathing was impossible in the presence of so many wonderful sensations. She trusted her heart to remember to beat. Something about the slow rhythm he set helped her begin to take in air. He pulled out slowly and then thrust into her, filling her to the hilt every time.
The fullness of him and the vibrations from below sandwiched her between two very different kinds of pleasure. It was just too much. Too many sensations came at her from everywhere. Tension built from so many directions. It couldn’t possibly release when it was overwhelming her.
She tried to talk, tried to tell him it was too much, but even sound eluded her. It was all she could do to keep her head above water as the waves hit, crashing against her body from every direction. Her entire body clenched and released with her climax, his rhythm drawing it out longer and longer. Maybe it was possible to die this way. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and could barely hear primal, feral sounds dying away in the background. And still her body clenched and released, tightened and opened. Continued until all she knew was her own breath.