Page 79 of Letting Go at 40

The lie lingers between us. Mason is more sensitive than he wants others to believe. His love for Ben. His upset with Samantha. His disappointment in himself with Lynlee.

“I don’t want you to hurt me,” I timidly admit.

Mason’s gaze leaps to meet my eyes. His hand returns to cup my chin. “I’ll try not to.”

It’s the best he can offer and exactly what I want to hear.

“Kissing,” I whisper, holding his gaze.

His lips are on mine before I finish the word. Heat blooms within me. His mouth is a winter fire on a dark night. He’s everywhere with teeth and tongue. Nipping my lower lip and swiping into my mouth. We kiss, hungry and greedy, while he keeps space between our bodies. His chest hovers over mine but he isn’t touching me. My nipples peak but they don’t reach his naked skin.

With his hand on my jaw, his body is a fortress over mine. Pillars of strength, of reserve, as he doesn’t lower to give me his weight.

Eventually, I can’t take it anymore and my hips jut upward, seeking connection. Needing to feel a part of him. The part that’s heavy and thick and long, and just inches too far away for me to caress where I need him most. My hands clutch at his biceps, hoping to weaken his position over me. When he doesn’t budge, I slip my arms around him and press at his shoulder blades, smoothing down his back.

I turn my head, breaking from the kiss but Mason isn’t deterred. He continues to kiss my cheek, my jaw, my neck. I’m not detained either. My hands wander the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles strain as he remains in the four-post position. Arms extended. Knees a cage.

Then my hands are at his backside, the firm globes unlike anything I’ve felt. The flannel material over them isn’t allowing me close enough. Still, I squeeze, holding on as my hips buck once more, bringing my lower half up to meet the thickness jutting outward from the flimsy pants.

“Anna,” Mason warns. His teeth graze my neck, scrapping at my skin, fueling the need in me.

“I need more,” I admit.

Mason lowers, still balancing his weight off me but pressing his hardness where I’m soft. Where I’m wet and desperate. Where I’m warm and eager.

He presses upward, dragging himself across the area of me that’s lusting for friction.

Mason’s mouth returns to mine as he grinds against me. Hips shifting, thrusting his cock at my center. Teasing me with the motion of entering me.

With my feet planted on the bed, I respond by lifting toward him, rubbing myself against his firm length. My hands clutch at the tightness of his backside. The tension builds.

Once again, I break the kiss, peppering his neck with soft sips. He licks my neck, and I nip his shoulder.

“Anna,” he grunts.

The silkiness of my nightie brushes against my hard nipples which are crushed under the strength of his chest. I hitch one leg over him, wrapping around him. Although we are fully clothed, I’m rushing toward the cliff. The precarious edge where I’ll topple over and fly through the free fall.

“Fuck. Anna.” He strains, pressing upward to balance on his arms over me again. The connection at our centers doesn’t end. Mason grinds against me, pressing harder, wanting to go deeper. Wishing to be skin to skin and filling me.

The thought tips me over and I rise upward, wrapping my arms around his back as I bite his shoulder and fall.

The bliss isn’t like anything I’ve experienced. Clutching at his sweaty skin, I hang on as I soar through an orgasm that has me seeing stars. My lower half clenches, the tension dragging on as Mason stills his body while one part of him pulses. His heart thunders. His cock jolts.

“Anna. Fuck,” he groans as I feel him let go against me.

We’re still covered by silk and flannel, but we might as well have been naked. If I saw stars with clothing between us, I can’t imagine what I’d see if we were skin to skin.

He collapses over me and then twists to his side, taking me with him. “That wasn’t what I intended to happen when I came down here.” He softly chuckles, surprise in the sound as he holds me to him, pressing his lips to my forehead.

“That’s exactly what I hoped would happen if you came down here,” I admit.

Mason laughs a little harder. With the jostle of his body, the firmness of his chest rubs on mine. My body is still on edge. If he kisses me again. If he touches me. I’ll be ready for more.

But maybe this is as far as we should go tonight, and slowly I regress into concern.

“Maybe this was too much?” Mason tightens his hold on me, as if he feels me slipping away.

“No.” Adamantly shaking my head, I say, “This was perfect.”