“Take me here on the counter,” she urged, slowly sliding her hand up and then down. Up and down again, her thumb swirling over the head, smoothing the bit of liquid that had formed all over. “I want you, Mason. I want to feel you come inside me.”
He groaned and kissed her, hot and heady, completely out of control. The counter’s height perfect, he positioned her so he could enter her with ease. Bending his knees, he thrust upward, filling her completely.
She closed her eyes when he entered her, expelling a sweet sigh. Her head dropped back, the little moan of pleasure escaping her making him plunge deeper, her beautiful face contorting with ecstasy. He couldn’t help the dose of male animal pride that swept over him at being the one who put that expression on her face.
He held on for dear life, moving within her deep, deeper. She clutched at him, her nails digging into his skin, her legs sliding around his waist and he stood up straight. Grabbed her by the waist and brought her down upon his cock, the base of him nudging against her swollen little clit.
“Oh God, that feels so. Good,” she moaned, grinding down on him. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. Not with her hot pussy grasping him in its deliciously tight grip. Certainly not with the way she looked, the things she said, her naked body propped upon the kitchen counter for God’s sake.
It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. And her complete surrender to him made it all the better.
Blake came first, the little whimpers sounding in her throat getting deeper, more urgent as her inner walls milked his cock, sending him straight into orgasm.
Straight into bliss.
Seconds or minutes later, he wasn’t sure, he finally moved away from her. Smiled when she stood on wobbly legs, her naked skin flushed from their lovemaking. The scent of sex lingered in the air and his dick roused
halfheartedly.
Unbelievable.
“Let’s go take that shower,” he suggested once he’d fully recovered and found his voice once again.
“Mmm.” She hauled him close, her lips meeting his in a most delectable kiss. “Let’s.”
Chapter Nine
He moved into her bedroom.
Blake wanted to do a little dance of joy but kept herself in check. He usually woke up first and headed to his temporary headquarters. Getting right to work and on the phone, so he could make his daily calls to DC.
This morning though, had been different. He’d lingered in her bed, trailing his fingers along her bare arm, gooseflesh following in his wake. She’d batted his hand away, which only seemed to make him want to touch her more, not that she protested.
After a thorough kiss that left her breathless, he’d made the suggestion casually. Like it was no big deal.
“I should just sleep here every night.”
She’d responded just as casually, not wanting to make more out of it. Mason did not like big deals. He was quiet, subtle. An absolute devil in the bed, with those wicked hands and that wicked tongue.
He’d made love to her after they’d agreed he should move into her bedroom. And make love was what he’d done. It was no quick and frenzied sexual encounter like they usually experienced. As if they had no control and couldn’t get enough of each other.
No, this time he’d kissed her everywhere, stroked her with a methodical plan to devastate her senses, building up her anticipation until she positively ached with it. And when he’d finally entered her, he’d taken her so slow she’d ended up crying her relief when the sweeping orgasm had finally taken over her body.
Too intense, what they shared. She’d known it would be like this between them. He was still the one who insisted it was just sex but it wasn’t. She sensed, though, that what they shared was affecting him as strongly as it affected her.
So when he’d finally pried himself away from her and made his way over to the small cabin, she’d locked herself in her studio. Full of inspiration and more than ready to seize the day.
Decadent lovemaking with Mason must’ve been the kick start her creative process needed. She’d started a new painting of the bay at sunset. A moment she’d caught sight of last week as she’d walked by. She’d stopped, mesmerized by the beauty before her and she knew she had to try and capture that moment so she’d snapped a quick pic with her phone. The colors had been dazzling, a mix of pinks, oranges and blues. She could only hope she’d do the actual moment justice.
After painting for a while and pleased with her progress, she decided to stretch and take a break. Mason wasn’t in the house and she’d snooped around a little bit, but found nothing unusual. Noted that he hadn’t moved any of his belongings from the cabin into her bedroom, not that she had the room for any of his stuff.
It was going to work out just fine, what they shared between them. She had to believe that.
Dread suddenly filled her at the thought of them leaving the island. Would everything return to normal when they went back to DC? Would he once again be Agent Russell and she Ms. Hewitt?
God, she hoped not. Despite what he’d said before they’d started this little affair, she wanted this to be more than just sex. The sex, granted, was amazing, but there was so much more. They talked, they teased, they laughed, they had the same taste in movies.
He cooked for her and she thought it was the sexiest thing imaginable. Watching macho, stoic Mason move with ease around the kitchen while he chopped vegetables and knew how to use a wok. He’d made stir fry with the most delicious marinated chicken she’d ever tasted. And he’d done it shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans.