“Scary.” I choked out. “Like you were talking to someone from-”
He barked out a short angry laugh, interrupting the accusation I was about to hurl at him. “You think that’s scary? You haven’t seen scary yet!”
“Mason, you need to calm down. I am not Rebecca and this isn’t about you!” I regretted the words as soon as they popped out of my mouth, but the enraged, slightly crazy look in his eyes terrified me.
“Come on,” he shouted as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me back into the club. Emma stared at us as he pulled me past the dancefloor and down a hallway. I gave her a little wave before we slipped out of sight. A stumbling drunk guy coming out of the men’s room bumped into him, and for a moment, I thought Mason was going to hit him.
“Watch where you’re going.” Mason bit out as he brushed himself off and kept on yanking me.Is he taking me to the bathroom?I wondered right before he opened the door across the hall and led us into a storeroom. Slamming it shut, he turned toward me, looking every bit as dangerous as he once warned me.How did he know this was here?
He pushed me against the closed door with his body, caging me with his hips and nearness. His hands pressed against the door on either side of my head, demanding my undivided attention. “Don’tfuckinglook at me like that!”
“Like what?” my breathless voice escaped in a whisper. The force of him overpowered everything else.
“Like you’re afraid of me,” he growled as his teeth found my ear, raking over the lobe. My body immediately sparked to life. My head lolled to the side, giving him better access, craving anything this man wanted to offer me.
“I’m not afraid of you.” I panted, my lips near enough to his shoulder that I considered biting him. The words were only partly a lie. He was so intimidating when he was angry, and I had no experience dealing with him this way, but my pussy was aching to take him exactly as he was. “Tell me who you were talking to.” I couldn’t be sure if I was really asking or trying to rile him up.
“I’m going to protect what’s mine,Claire.” He ignored my demand, emphasizing my name in a way that told me he would not easily forget the comment I made about Rebecca nor the danger lurking over my shoulder. One of his hands wrapped around the back of my neck and the other tipped my chin up to him. My hands flew to his chest, holding me steady, and feeling the delicious muscles beneath his shirt.
His fingers pressed into my skin a bit too hard as he stared deeply into my eyes, trying to communicate a message that held the weight of the universe. His unrelenting grasp and the power of his gaze ensnared me too tightly to care about the hint of pain. “You are mine,” he vowed, “and I’ll tear this world to shreds before I let someone touch you.” Desperation for him raced through my veins, weakening my knees and making my grip tighten on his shirt.
He licked the seam of my lips with artless aggression, and they parted on a gasp, yielding to him as he invaded me, still pressing his thumb into my chin and holding tight to the back of my neck as he ravaged my mouth. My hands moved to his hair, tugging on the golden blonde silk that was finally long enough to twist my fingers into. He tasted like home, and sin, and all the good and bad in the world rolled into one decimating package.
“Do you understand?” He broke our kiss, waiting for me to answer.
“Okay,” I gasped, senseless, his words making almost no sense in competition with my pulse hammering and the desperate consuming heat snaking through me.
That was the wrong answer. He nipped my neck, hard. I cried out at the punishment. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, but there was no levity in his eyes. “Take off your dress,” he murmured into my skin as he sucked bruises over my collarbone, teasing the flesh with his teeth, and soothing the aching spots with kisses.
I whimpered at the pain of his bite and the pleasure that chased it. “What?”
“Take off your dress before I rip it off.” His big hands slid down the column of my neck and onto the fabric clinging to my breasts. Mason tensed in preparation to tear it off me. He stared me down with a warning in his eyes, telling me just how serious he was about shredding the only respectable means I had for walking out of this club. My nervous fingers flew to the zipper and I let the garment fall to the ground without a care for what sticky substance was covering it. My back rested on the cold door, and my exposed nipples hardened even further at the onslaught of cool air.
He stepped back, looking at me with blatant lust and fury. His shirt was pulled up and mussed, along with his hair. The suit jacket clung to his shoulders, accenting the breadth of him and the power in his stance. His lips parted, and I watched in amazed fascination as he pulled the bottom one between his teeth and bit into it like he wished it were me instead. His cock straining against his pants had me desperate to drop to my knees and take him into my mouth, to taste his skin and swallow his cum. Except the look in his eye told me not to move an inch.
“Did you skip the bra tonight to tease me?” I shook my head rapidly, and the smallest smile flashed across his lips. He pulled open his belt buckle, and my eyes stayed glued to the motion as he tugged it free from the loops. His perfect control was utterly absent from his flushed face. This was raw need.
“Put your hands out.” I obeyed him, placing my wrists together and offering them to him in a prayer, but for what, I couldn’t be sure. He was like gravity: completely undeniable in his pull. He doubled the belt over, creating some kind of loop, and shoved my wrists inside. Pulling the end, he tightened the restraint a bit too hard.
I wondered which life he learned this in—son of a criminal or wealthy playboy? I moaned as he rolled each of my nipples between his fingers and gave each breast a rough smack. He dipped down, sucking one into his mouth like he couldn’t resist having a taste. My wayward fingers reached out, just brushing his achingly hard cock. He smacked my hands, letting me know he was setting the pace, taking his time to explore and suck my nipples until I was a puddle, writhing and begging to be filled.
Finally, he took mercy on me and turned me to face a series of shelving units lining the wall. Thick poles supported the shelves, and he led me to the nearest one with his front pressed to my back. His rigid cock rested against the cleft of my ass and his hands worked my nipples with harsh pinches. He didn’t bother to lock the door behind us. “Hold on,” he directed as he lifted my hands and wrapped them around the metal.
I did as he said, gripping tightly, but still asked, “Why?”
“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you’ll need the support.” His palms ran over my hips, pulling my panties down my thighs. “Step,” he commanded as he pulled them off of me and stuck them in his pocket.
He spread my legs, skating his hands over the insides of my thighs as he stood, one hand lightly slapped my clit. I yelped, and he dipped into my opening, shoving two thick fingers inside. The other palm spread my ass cheeks and his fingers playfully tested the resistance. “So wet. So tight.” He grunted in my ear as I shivered and quaked on him. He withdrew from me, leaving me aching. The soft ripping sound of his zipper pulling down only added to the slick wetness, but soothed the animal willing to fight to be filled. He positioned the head of his cock at my entrance.
“Mason, what if someone comes in?” I gasped wildly, thinking of all the people in the club and how easy it would be for one of them to stumble in here, or an employee who needed something. The inventory lining the shelf in front of me gave credence to that concern.
“If someone comes in, they’re going to see what I already know. You aremine.” With that, he gripped my hips and shoved into me, nearly taking me off my feet with the force of his thrust. I crumpled, barely able to hold on, but still my hips tried their hardest to grind into him, my need for him was feral. The exquisite fullness was almost more than I could take and only made me want him to wreck me.
I moaned loudly, unable to help myself. “You’ll have to keep quiet if you don’t want them to hear you, baby.” His hips pounding into me elicited another long moan as my pussy gripped him, trying to dislodge both of our orgasms. He laughed as he pulled my hair back from my face and neck, and bit into the spot where my neck met my shoulder blade. I held on tighter as his fingers dug bruises into my hips and his cock pumped into me in the most sublime punishing rhythm.
He reached around, pinching my clit, and I let out another cry. “Tsk tsk,” he admonished me, slowing his relentless pounding long enough to pull my panties out of his pocket, “Open your pretty little mouth, Claire.” I obeyed, and he shoved the wet fabric in; the sweet, musky taste of my arousal driving me higher.
“If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll keep you quiet.” He slapped a hand over my mouth, keeping the makeshift gag in place. “You’re delicious, aren’t you, baby? No one tastes as good as you.”