Page 22 of Mason

I slide the robe off my shoulders and it drops to the floor, leaving me near naked in the center of the large, dimly lit room. Thick curtains are drawn against the windows, and burgundy and gold bedding drapes across a bed that looks impossibly bigger than a king-size.

Mason drags a chair across the cream-colored carpet and lets it go at my feet. He sits, curls his lip into a sneer, and pulls on my wrists, deftly manipulating my body so that I am draped across his lap, my breasts and pelvis flat against his legs. My bare flesh chafes against his slacks, but it’s nothing compared to the stinging sensation of his hand across my backside.

I cry out, and then cover my mouth.

Mason caresses each vibrating buttock, drawing slow circles with his palm, tickling lightly with his fingertips. I flatten my chest against his thigh and brace for the impending second thwack. Every muscle in my body tenses and then releases when his firm hand comes down across my flesh.

Jesus. Fuck.

“Oh shit,” I moan, as my pussy clenches and thrums.

He grunts, almost as if he’s fucking me. It’s beyond sexual.

I dig my nails into the wooden chair legs and arch my back, pushing my pelvis harder into his muscular thighs. My bikini bottoms shift to expose my throbbing clit.

“You’ve been a naughty girl again,” Mason says. His hand circles each cheek before dipping between my thighs, lightly grazing my clitoris. Embarrassingly, impossibly, I feel the first twinges of a mounting climax. My pussy fills with my juices.

Mason lets out a low groan. “Good god. You’re so fucking wet.”

My breath hitches.

He chuckles lightly. “I think you like being punished, don’t you?”

I exhale slowly, debating how—if—to answer. My flesh stings and throbs, but there’s no denying that Mason turns me on. The musky scent of my sex is potent in the air. I am transparent, lucid, beneath his touch. “Yes,” I whimper.

The response earns me another slap across the ass, and I cry out, this time far more from pleasure than any kind of pain. My buttocks clench. Mason’s fingertips dance across my skin, easing the burn, preparing it for the next spank like an artist readying his canvas. I hold my breath, remain very still, tingling with anticipation.

But to my surprise, he doesn’t paddle me again. Instead, he gently pushes me off his lap so that I am kneeling before him. My face—my mouth—is eye level to his crotch, and through his trousers, I can see that he’s hard. Every inch of me wants to touch his erect cock, taste it between my lips. But I wait for his consent, nearly desperate for his permission, knowing without it, he is out of bounds.

Mason unbuckles his belt. I glance up, and in his eyes, I find unabashed lust. A delicious thrill runs through my body. He undoes the top buttons of his slacks, gently pulls down the zipper, and shoves his hand down into his underwear to pull out his impressive dick.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip.

Let me touch you.

As though reading my mind, Mason grips the base of his cock and points it toward me like a thick dagger. “Put your mouth on me, Olivia.”

My pulse skips a beat. I shift closer, and spread his legs further apart so that I can wedge my body between them. With one hand, I reach back to hold my hair, and then lower my mouth, hovering it over his erect penis, lightly blowing my hot breath against his flesh. My body trembles with need.

His hips lift, ever so slightly, and my lips touch his cock, gently at first. His low moan offers encouragement, causing me to take more of him into my mouth, loping my tongue around the ridge of his cock in slow, lazy circles.

Mason grasps my head for purchase and pushes himself deeper.

The tip of his penis almost reaches the back of my throat, but I still manage to draw him tighter against my lips and suck my way up his length. He gasps, softly, taking in a sharp breath that makes my pussy clench. In this moment, I am in control, and there is no greater turn on.

I feel proud that I can handle this.

Handle him.

He’s very big, but I find I like it quite a lot.

I grip the base of his cock with one hand while the other works in tandem with my mouth, twisting and licking and sucking. My head bobs in a steady rhythm, keeping time with my movements. It’s as though I’ve suddenly found my groove.

Mason rolls his hips, grinding his cock in and out of my mouth, while his hand nestles into the hair at the base of my neck and pulls hard enough to make me gasp. In retaliation, I reach between his thighs, grab his scrotum and squeeze.

“Christ, Olivia,” he growls. “You’re fucking driving me insane.”

My chest swells with pride. The praise makes me work harder to please him. I fondle his balls and run my tongue up and down his shaft. My teeth nip against the ridge of his cock, and then drag down to the base, scraping against his tender skin.