Bossy Mason. Yummy.

My breasts pop free, the cool air of the condo assaulting my nipples. I squeak when he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me, bringing us chest to chest, my hands gripping his hair and his palming my ass and squeezing.

He buries his face in my neck. “Want you. Want you so fucking bad I can’t think.”

“Take me. Please,” I groan, biting my lip when he slowly lowers me onto his cock. My legs shake as he stretches me. “Mason . . . oh, fuck.”

He bounces me up and down, fucking me in the middle of my friends’ condo, with our clothes still on and the cold metal of his zipper rubbing against my clit. Biting at my flesh. It hurts and it’s heaven. Fuck, he’s so big I fear he might rip me in half, but even the threat of death wouldn’t stop me from taking this. From allowing him to use my body for his pleasure, which is exactly what he’s doing. I have no control right now. He’s manipulating my weight, lowering me onto his cock at the pace and ferocity he wants, and every time I gasp in shock or squirm in his arms, he revels in my response by giving it to me harder. Faster. Squeezing my thighs until they sting as he shows me how fierce his need is for me, which only solidifies my longing for him.

I’ve kept him hard since this morning. He’s punishing me in the sweetest way for it.

Take me. Take me. Just don’t let me go.

With parted lips he looks into my eyes, our faces inches apart as his shallow breaths bathe my skin and absorb into my lungs.

I feel drugged.

I want to taste him in my soul. I want to feel him moving in my blood. I want to consume and be consumed by this man. Only him.

Love is a madness I will willingly accept if he’s the one pulling me under.

“Brooke . . . goddamn.” He thrusts his hips steadily. “So good. So good, baby.”

God, I love it when he calls me that.

My fingers tug at Mason’s hair as I lean forward and moan into his mouth. I feel my orgasm tickling my spine. “I’m close. Where do you want to come?” I ask, watching the sweat bead on his brow. His nostrils flaring.

He keeps me on the tip of his cock, slowly lowering and lifting me. He sucks on my lips. “Where can I?” His voice is strained. He’s close too.

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” He leans back and studies my face.

I smirk. I can’t help myself.

Tensing my thighs, I arch into him and reach behind me, fisting his cock. I position him at my back entrance.

He sucks in a breath. His eyes as round as quarters as he stares at me. “Brooke.”

“Anywhere,” I whisper against his mouth, slowly applying pressure to the head of his cock, easing him past that tight ring of muscle.

I take in slow, deep breaths, controlling my breathing.

Mason isn’t controlling much of anything.

“Baby,” he rasps, his shoulders and arms tensing, his chest heaving as he slips inside, just an inch, maybe not even that much. Growling like a caged animal, the cords in his neck threatening to burst, he lifts me off his cock and reaches between us, stroking himself furiously against my clit. “Ah, fuck . . . Brooke, fuck!” he yells, the first spurts of cum hitting my stomach and the bunched material of my dress. The rest of his desire coating my sex and his fingers.

Bliss.

“Wow,” I breathe, dragging my lips along his cheek, moaning at the warm sensation between my legs. “That was crazy.”

And hot.

Mason snarls, leaning away and looking down between us. I swear he sways on his feet.

“Shit, Brooke. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I got it on your dress.”

“Shh.” I reach down and grab his dick, pressing it where I ache the most. Our eyes lock. “Need to come.”

Huffing out a breath, he moves us to a nearby stool and sits me on it. His cock wet and heavy against my thigh. With his hand between my legs and his lips moving across my skin, he brings me to orgasm within seconds, pressing sweet words against my cheek and dirty ones into my ear.

He tells me I’m beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and that he’ll be coming in my ass soon enough.

My tight, fuckable ass.

I moan against his shirt, panting as I come down from my climax. He grabs my face and kisses me.

“You.” He smiles against my mouth. “A little warning next time, yeah? Give a bloke some time to prepare.”

“Ah, come on. Where’s the fun in that?” I giggle, stroking his face and pushing his hair back. I take a long look at him. “You’re beautiful too, Mason. Your heart and your body. Your soul. I’m so lucky.”

His eyes appear dimmer as he stares back at me. A dulled shadow passing over him.

Maybe he feels drugged too?

“Sweet girl, come on.”

He scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom, my bare feet kicking out. He strips off my dress and we both clean up between kisses and lingering touches.

“Will that come out I hope?” Mason tightens his belt and watches me rinse my dress in the bathroom sink. Our gazes lock in the mirror. He looks regretful. “Really, really sorry.” He bends down and kisses the side of my head.

I smile, wringing out the material and turning off the water. “I’m going to get it dry-cleaned. That’ll be a fun stain to illuminate on.” I pretend I’m handing off the garment. “My boyfriend got a little excited during anal. Can you press this for me?”

Mason rubs at his face, groaning.

Lord, his embarrassment is adorable.

I laugh and elbow his stomach as I move past him.

“Wanna watch a movie? We can order take-out and stay in.”

He nods. “Yeah, all right. What movie?”

“I don’t care. I have a bunch out there in my room if you wanna look. There’s more out by the T.V.”

I throw my dress over the shower curtain rod so it will dry. I can drop it off at the cleaners tomorrow when I go to work.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom and then I’ll be out.”

He jerks his chin and steps out into my bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

I use the toilet, looking up at my dress.

My boyfriend got a little excited during anal.

Or . . .

The man I want to spend forever with got a little excited during anal.

Mm, yes. I like that better.

After washing my hands, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and run my fingers through my messy hair. It looks lifeless. I tug on the ends and my curls spring back. I twist the front pieces. A sticky substance clings to the pads of my fingers.

“What the . . .” I hold my hand in front of my face, grimacing. “Really?”

I grab my shampoo out of the shower. Gathering my hair over one shoulder, I bend over the sink and scrub my ends, rinsing out the suds and semen.

Only you, Brooke. Only you would get cum in your hair after spending hours styling it.

I laugh when I think about Mason finding out he got his spunk in my hair.

Would he be as apologetic as he was for my dress?

I towel dry the ends a bit so they aren’t dripping and tuck the front pieces behind my ears. I pinch my cheeks and apply some chapstick from the drawer before padding out into my room.

“Finding anything? I’m in the mood for something funny,” I yell out, grabbing a new pair of panties out of my dresser and slipping them on.

Mason doesn’t answer. He’s probably engrossed in whatever it is he picked out.

I open another drawer and pull out a pair of linen shorts and a tank, tossing them on my bed. I apply another layer of vanilla body lotion to my arms, legs, and neck before getting dressed and moving through the doorway.

Mason’s back is to me as he stands beside the couch, blocking my view of the T.V., the remote in his hand.

Nothing is playing. At least I don’t hear anything.

Why didn’t he answer me?

I come up behind him and slide my hands around his waist. His body tenses.