“You’re fucking amazing,” Mason growled as his teeth gripped my shoulder.
His movements quickened, and I screamed his name when I felt my body prickle with orgasmic waves.
“Don’t stop,” I begged. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted the sensations to double and carry me away, anchored only by the strength of his hands.
He smiled at me, pressing his forehead against mine. The shower sputtered behind us. “I’m not stopping until you beg me to. And even then I might not.”
My standing knee wobbled for a second before he picked up that leg and wrapped it on the other side of his hip. He plunged deeper and I screamed with electric pulses.
“Too much?” he whispered in my ear.
“No. I want more. More.” I gripped at his neck. He answered my request with another thrust that sent me over the edge. Toppling until I thought my body would melt in his hands.
“God, Sydney.” He clenched his teeth and I could see the veins in his neck throbbing. “You feel too good.”
I ran my lips over his mouth, sucking and twining my tongue against his. My hands wound around his neck. The rhythm slowed between us and my eyes opened. His eyes searched mine and my heart pounded against my chest. He moved slowly, reveling in the feel of our bodies coming together then slowing drawing farther apart.
I dug my heels against him. “Don’t,” I pleaded. “It’s too much.”
He kissed me harder. “I can feel all of you like this.”
I felt him pull away again and I whimpered. He moved back inside me slower than before. I sank into the pleasure of his hardness. “Ohh,” I moaned.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
He already knew the answer. The way his body reacted to mine said everything. We were going to incinerate if we kept this up.
I wouldn’t be able to last much longer if he held this slow torturous pace. It was exquisite pain—giving me everything I wanted, only seconds later taking it away.
I nodded. “It’s good.”
He nuzzled in my neck, trailing wet kisses below my ear. “I could do this all morning.” He pulled out again, and I clawed against him.
“No,” I moaned.
“No?” he asked.
“I mean yes.”
“Tell me what you want, baby.” He began to fill me, I couldn’t stand the agony.
I shook my head. I couldn’t say it. He stopped, leaving me half-satisfied. I felt the pain coiling deep inside. I needed him to release me.
“All morning,” he whispered. His hand brushed the damp hair from my cheek. “I keep my promises.”
“Take me back to your bed.” My eyes flashed to his.
“And then what?” His thumb began to roll over my nipple and the pure want for him fired through my senses. My body responded to his touch, arching into him, getting hotter and wetter when he pushed inside me, calling his name when I felt desperate need gripping under my skin.
“I’m already begging.”
“Baby, that’s not begging.” He tipped open the shower door and walked toward the bed. My arms and legs wound tightly around him.
He leaned forward until my back touched the sheets. I stared into his eyes. He was watching me with hunger and pleasure. The water droplets slid over his shoulders and chest. I wanted to lick every last one from his glorious body.
He began his slow rhythmic rocking again, this time with more force and certainty. I realized the shower had given him a disadvantage. I rose to meet him, but every time I was about to come he would slow down or move just enough to make me whimper some more.
He kissed between my breasts and my stomach, his fingers replacing the hardness that I had already become addicted to. I needed him inside me, as badly as I needed air to breathe.