Page 100 of Untroubled Heart

His chest is warm against me as his hand caresses the back of my neck.

“It’s time for you to be a good girl now, Callie baby.” He guides me down until my pussy is exposed to him. The head of his pierced cock rubs back and forth over my entrance. His grip tightens on the curve where my neck meets my shoulder as his tip eases inside. “Show me how good you take my cock.”

He holsters my hip and slams into me. A ragged cry tears through my lungs, the room filling with the wet slap of skin against skin and Mason’s rising moans. His piercing tickles the nerves inside, sending me on a fast track to euphoria.

I slam a hand against the window, powerless to silence my carnal cries as bliss riots through every limb like a pinball in a machine.

Mason fucks me hard and deep, and right when I think I’m going to come again, he reaches around and smacks my sensitive pussy.

“That’s it, Callie baby. You’re almost there.” He groans as he keeps tapping my clit, and I collapse forward. His hand glides up my chest, lifting me to lean back on him. I wrap a hand around his wrist, where he leaves it, loosely collaring my throat as his other hand strums my clit. His thrusts keep up a punishing pace, and I hold my breath until one long wail falls from my lips.

Mason slips out of me, spinning me around until he’s bracketing my face in his hands as he kisses me, and walks me backwards until my knees hit the edge of his bed.

I sit down, letting my hands roam over the ridges and grooves of muscles that glisten with sweat.

“Get them out for me.” He tips his chin at my chest.

I unclasp the bra and toss it aside. “Is this how you want me?” I ask.

Mason steps between my parted thighs and pushes his cock between my breasts as I hold them together. His eyes are locked on the scene. I roll and rub my nipples until they start to tingle. As Mason pulls back, I pinch the ends, letting milk flow onto his cock.

“Ohhh, fuck. That’s just as hot as I thought it’d be,” he pants, thrusting a little faster.

I keep squeezing, getting him wet with me.

“Yes, baby. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come.” He hisses as his hips snap, slipping through milk and the release I already left on his cock.

“Mark me, Mason. Show me I’m yours.”

He groans as his body stills, and then his cum coats my chest. He watches with rapt attention, whimpering as he decorates my skin.

He brings a finger up to my chest, wetting his lips as he draws over me, and I feel the distinct pattern of the letter M.

“Mason?” I ask with a satisfied smirk.

“Mine.”

Chapter thirty-seven

The biology between an ant and a woman should be studied. I truly don’t understand how I can carry five tile sample boxes in one arm, while opening the boot of my car with the other. Sheer determination fuelled by the fact that I refuse to do this in more than one trip.

My arm is being crushed, I’m still mad at that top box for sliding into my chin when I was reaching for my keys, but honestly, this is peak coordination here, and no one’s even around to commend me. Good job, Callie. You deserve a cookie and an orgasm later. Why, thank you, Callie, don’t mind if I do.

I chuckle to myself as I start setting the boxes one by one into the boot with absolutely no finesse at all.

Mason and Beth are at a meeting for their family’s mining company. They don’t actively contribute to the day-to-day operations, but they’re all shareholders and attend annual meetings—very formal meetings. My glasses fogged up when Mason came out of his office wearing a full suit. Dark grey pants clinging to his thighs, and a matching vest that made his chest look full and broad with the way it tapered in at his waist. A pale blue shirt underneath hugged his biceps, and I think my exact response was hrijkdfhngnpf. It wasn’t so much words as it was a full body offering to whatever good fortune put this man in my life.

Setting the last box down, I close the boot only for my heart to slam against my chest when my father’s eyes collide with mine.

It’s been at least six months since I last saw him. He put himself out to be at home shortly before I moved to the city, not staying more than a week before claiming he had to go back to work. I wonder how far the depths of his deception go.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes flicking between me and the woman standing beside him, one arm looped through his.

My instincts tell me she’s just as much in the dark as my mother was.

“Is there a single part of you that gives a shit about anyone other than yourself?” I call, my fingers tightening around the keys in my hand.

The woman looks between me and Dad, her light eyes wide as she reads the scene unfolding.