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  He stared at her for several seconds, his brow furrowed as she held the bottle but didn’t tip it to her lips.

  Finally, seeming to break himself from a spell, he stepped around her and ran his hands over his short-cropped hair.

  “What?” How had she managed to irritate him without doing anything?

  “Nothing.” He glanced around and stepped farther away. “I should go.” He didn’t look at her.

  “Why?” Her voice squeaked as she asked, or rather seemed to beg with that one word.

  “Rafe…Katy… They’ll kill me.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure I get that.” She shook her head and set the bottle of undrunk water on the counter. “No. In fact, I don’t get it at all. Why are we catering to those two exactly?”

  He stopped in the doorframe leading to the living area and turned to face her. He grabbed both sides of the frame with his hands. He was so tall and huge, he filled the entire space, again making the room seem to be sized wrong for him. “I can’t make love to you, Jenna. And you’re killing me.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?” She had no idea exactly what he meant—again. He said it as though he weren’t capable.

  Jenna breathed hard and fast. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life. Ten times more. And she was practically begging him. How the hell had it come to this? She knew he was interested. He made that clear from the moment he sauntered into the church late for the rehearsal.

  Whatever piece of this puzzle she was missing was a mystery.

  Mason stared at her, his expression serious and unreadable. Long seconds went by, maybe minutes, while Jenna heaved for oxygen and tried not to fidget.

  “Take off your dress.” His voice was lower, deeper. It wove through the room and wrapped around her, enveloping her in the command.

  She should have been shocked. Instead she was mesmerized as though held in a trance by his piercing stare.

  Jenna didn’t break his gaze as she did his bidding. Did he sway closer to her as she reached behind for the zipper?

  It could have been her imagination. Impossible to tell. He held the wood frame with a death grip, his body leaning into the room.

  She couldn’t read him, as usual, but at least he was moving in the right direction. She needed sex. Hell, she needed a fuck. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted fast and hard. Lucky for her, the intense stare he gave her told her he was on the edge of losing it alongside her.

  The zipper reached the bottom, and Jenna shrugged the dress around her until it fell to the floor. She stood before him knowing what he saw without lowering her gaze. All she wore underneath was a black lace bra and a matching thong. Why she’d worn her favorite sexy set tonight she would never know, but thank God.

  “Step out from behind the island,” he demanded. His voice remained low. His gaze roamed down her body as she did his bidding again, exposing herself to his piercing gaze. “Spin around. Let me see all of you.”

  Jenna licked her dry lips again, wishing she’d at least taken a sip of that water. She spun slowly. It was the only option, really. If she moved any faster, she would have lost her balance and fallen. There was little blood available to command her legs with.

  Her breasts felt enormous, and she was afraid to glance down and break the spell. Her pussy was so wet she feared she would leak down her leg.

  “Take off the rest, Jenna.” The way he said her name made her shiver. He caressed her with it, from across the room. He wasn’t touching her, and yet he made love to her with his eyes, his words. Or was he fucking her? She wasn’t sure. He’s such a perv. That thought made her pussy clench.

  Jenna reached behind and unclasped her bra. Relief filled her to release her tight, heavy breasts from the confining garment. It wasn’t that she was so big. She was average for her size and height, but for whatever reason, she’d been exploding from the lace ever since she’d laid eyes on Mason.

  She dropped the black silk on the floor and lifted her gaze to his once more.

  He wasn’t looking at her face. He was taking in her breasts, and she struggled to keep from covering herself at the intensity in his blue eyes.

  He stared forever at her chest until her nipples grew tight and goose bumps rose on her skin as though his fingers drifted across the tips.

  She held her hands at her sides and fisted her fingers until her nails dug into her palms. The sharp pain grounded her, kept her from floating off the floor.

  When he glanced back at her face, he lifted a brow. “Panties too, please.”

  Jenna jerked. A ball in the lower pit of her stomach grew and pressed into her pussy. Her legs shook at his plea.

  God almighty he had a way…

  Jenna tucked her thumbs into the lace at her hips and lowered the thong, wiggling her ass back and forth until the material fell to the floor. She stepped out of the scrap of lace, toward him.

  They were separated by far too much distance.

  He continued to stare, except now he took in her pussy as though under a microscope.

  Self-consciousness flooded her system. She groomed down there, but she did it herself. She wasn’t overly careful. After all, she hadn’t had a man in her apartment for over a year. Who the hell cared if she shaved or not?

  Luckily she’d shaved today. The short dress demanded she shave her legs, and while she’d been working her way up, she’d formed the nice triangle she liked to keep at the apex of her sex.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a woman so…pure. I’m not used to pubic hair. It suits you. I like it.”

  What the fuck? How many women does he have?

  Jenna crossed her legs and lost her ability to remain impassive.

  In two strides, Mason was in front of her. Before she could grasp his intention, he lifted her by the waist and set her on the end of the island.

  Jenna gasped and grabbed his shoulders, shock making her unsteady after the way he hadn’t moved for such a long time.

  Mason released her waist and wrapped his hands around her knees. The next thing she knew, he had spread her open and settled her legs wide, straddling the island. It was almost too far for her to stretch, and she was more exposed in this position than she could ever recall.

  When he had her legs how he wanted them, he pressed himself between them against the side of the island. He lifted her chin to his face with one hand and plucked her lip from between her teeth.

  She hadn’t realized she was biting her lip. He stroked the offended flesh with his thumb and then lowered his gaze to her breasts. He cradled each one in his hands and grazed his thumbs over her nipples.

  She jumped.

  “Stay still,” he growled. God, he was bossy.

  And her pussy leaked as he commanded her.

  “Your tits are so rosy, Jenna.” They were the first words he’d spoken that weren’t demands. They were an observation, but she heard the reverence. “Lie back.” He reached behind her and lowered her slowly onto the tile.

  It was cold against her back, but she welcomed the contrast with her heated skin. She stared at the ceiling, unable to see his gaze well without twisting her neck to the side.

  “Lift your arms over your head.” His tone was low, but soothing now.

  She couldn’t stop herself. Whatever he requested, she obeyed. She raised her arms and clasped her fingers together above her head on the island. Somehow holding one with the other was grounding, as though they had each other.

  An unexpected moan escaped her lips when he lightly skimmed his fingers down her neck, her chest, her belly… When he reached her pussy, he trailed the tips of each finger around to the sides, bringing more goose bumps to her thighs as he fondled the inside of each leg.

  Jenna lifted her knees subconsciously.

  Mason pressed them back down. “Stay still,” he repeated. “Let me see you first.”

  First? First before what? If he didn’t take his clothes off and fuck her soon, she was going to implode.

  As
though knowing she wouldn’t be able to obey, he placed one hand firmly against her groin while he stroked through her sex with the other.

  “Oh God, Mason.” She moaned around the words. She’d never been so prepared. So ready. So fucking horny.

  “So wet for me, baby.” He leaned down and blew a breath against the wetness he’d brought out.

  Jenna would have bucked completely off the island if he hadn’t held her steady. But he knew that.

  He chuckled, his seriousness evaporating. “So responsive. I love that.” He tested her again, as though her responses were fascinating. This time he dipped two fingers into her and drew them back out across her G-spot.

  The invasion was so swift and unexpected, she stopped breathing. She was so close to coming, she thought she would embarrass herself.

  “And tight. Shit, Jenna. When did you have sex last?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to answer the question. He was obviously a man who enjoyed frequent intercourse. She felt like a fool.

  “Jenna, answer me. When was the last time a man had his cock inside you?” He pushed those two fingers back inside and scissored them as he spoke.

  Her mouth opened, but all she could think about was his fingers and how good they felt. How bad she wanted him to stroke her clit. How fucking arousing his dominating ways made her body jump at his command.

  He pulled his hand away and lifted his head.

  He waited until she lowered her gaze to his. She was shocked to find him licking his fingers clean. He stared at her face, his damn eyebrow lifted in its usual questioning spot.

  What was his question? Oh, right. Her sex partners. How personal. But she would do anything to make him fuck her. “Over a year.” Her voice barely sputtered out.

  He smiled. “I like that.”

  She dropped her head back on the tile as he lowered his attention to her pussy again. The hand he held her down with pressed on her skin, pulling it toward her belly. She realized his intent when her clit popped free of the little hood, exposed to the air.

  “Oh, baby. That’s so sexy.” He brushed his fingertip over the nub, and she screamed.

  “More,” she begged. “Please.” She rolled her head back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to concentrate on the sensations bombarding her system.

  “Patience, Jenna.” He danced his free hand over her belly and across her breasts, avoiding her nipples. “All good things require self-restraint.”

  What the hell?

  Mason tortured her breasts forever, circling her nipples over and over until she thought it would never end. There was a precise moment when his smooth touches finally caused her arousal to ebb, and that was the second he pinched a nipple between his thumb and finger, hard.

  Jenna bucked her chest off the island. She flung her arms from over her head and grasped his wrist where he held her poor nipple captive. Her arousal shot from its recession to full blown in an instant.

  “Ah ah,” he muttered. “Put your hands back above your head, and I’ll release you.”

  At this point Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to be released. The sweet torture on her nipple was at once painful and arousing. Nevertheless, she lifted her arms back above her head. This time she gripped the edge of the island and held on.

  “Good girl.” He released her offended tit only to repeat the action on the other side. This time it wasn’t as shocking. She still bucked her chest, but she didn’t let go of the tile. “Even your tits are responsive. Are you always this easily aroused?”

  Did she have to answer that?

  Mason pinched the first nipple again, harder. The pain was intense, but her pussy fucking loved it at the same time.

  “No.” She shook her head, realizing he did in fact require a response. “Never.”

  “Good. I like that too. So it’s me.”

  “Yes. Please, Mason…” Her voice trailed off. Somehow she knew her words were useless wastes of consonants and vowels that did nothing but fill the room with noise.

  He still held her steady at the waist with his other hand, and he leaned away from her chest again. He stroked his fingers through her growing moisture and rubbed her own lubricant across her clit. It pulsed as he pressed into it.

  Jenna gritted her teeth, trying not to come and hoping she came at the same time. She craved the release, but she also preferred to wait for him to enter her. He only got one shot. It would be so much sweeter if he was inside when she came. Should she tell him?

  She couldn’t form all of that into words. Plus she doubted he would take anything she said into consideration, anyway. She had no choice but to follow his lead.

  Mason showed no signs of slowing down. He circled her clit and flicked his finger over it in no apparent pattern, leaving her gasping and wondering when his next touch would come. Every few passes, he pushed two fingers into her as deep as he could and then returned to her clit, leaving her reeling at the quick invasion and retreat.

  “So hot, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me, Jenna.”

  Jenna tensed. She shook her head. No. Please. Don’t make me come until you’re inside me.

  “Jenna. Look at me.”

  She twisted her head to one side. Lifting it would be too much trouble.

  When she made eye contact, he held her gaze while he pressed into her and left his thumb behind at the same time, the pressure on her clit maddening. He stroked her front wall. “Come, Jenna. Now.”

  She blinked, but her vision blurred as she shattered. Her entire body participated in the orgasm, shaking with each pulse around his fingers. Her clit throbbed against his thumb, and he stroked her through the entire orgasm she thought would never end.

  When she finally managed to concentrate on his face again, she found him still staring at her, a smile lifting his lips. “Beautiful, Jenna. So gorgeous. Do it again.”

  What? She shook her head. No. You don’t understand. I can’t. In fact she was growing sensitive to his touch already. She squirmed to avoid the direct contact.

  “I want to watch your pussy this time, Jenna.” He held her steady, pressing harder against her waist.

  “I…” Her mouth was too dry. She licked her lips to no avail. “Mason, I can’t.”

  “You can, baby.” He was so determined. She believed he could actually command her body to do his bidding whether his request was possible or not.

  The sensitivity subsided gradually as he circled her clit again and stroked her inner walls. Whatever he did with his fingers brought her back to life in an instant. “That’s your G-spot, baby. Have you ever had a G-spot orgasm?”

  She shook her head again. Not that she was aware of.

  He changed his pace, grazing his fingers over a spot inside her that had been elusive until this moment.

  Jenna moaned, an unintelligible sound she couldn’t control.

  He tapped that spot, over and over, while her arousal grew back to full intensity in no time.

  Wetness leaked from her pussy and ran down her crack. She was lost in the new sensation inside her channel. As Mason released her belly to gently pinch and roll her clit, she barely noticed when he reached one finger of his other hand to rub the stretch of skin running from her pussy to her ass. It felt so good. So fucking good. Whatever he was doing, she didn’t care, as long as he never stopped.

  Her breath caught in her lungs when he suddenly breached her rear hole with his pinky. He slid his finger in so smoothly, using her own moisture to guide the way.

  She wanted to protest, but she couldn’t move a muscle. Her mouth didn’t have any usefulness.

  Her body jumped to attention. Her pussy gripped his fingers, and her ass tightened around his pinky. The forbidden feeling grew on her. It heightened the other sensations until all she knew was an intense urge to pee. She squeezed her pussy. No no no. Oh God.

  “Relax, baby. It’s perfectly normal. Let it go.”

  “No. I’m going to pee on you,” she blurted.

  He chuckled
. “No you aren’t. You’re going to come. Hard. That’s what it feels like.” He tapped faster, harder, against her G-spot. “Right here. Let it go, baby. Come on my hand, Jenna.”

  The sensation built with his movements. Her need to pee grew incrementally. Was he deranged? She was going to embarrass herself to death if he didn’t stop now.

  And then she lost it. All control vanished. The most freeing, liberating orgasm she’d ever felt swept through her pussy. She gushed onto his hand. She didn’t care. All she knew was overwhelming peace as she squirted onto his palm over and over.

  “That’s it, baby. God that’s hot. You’re precious.” He eased off slowly, pulling his pinky from her rear and his fingers from her pussy until he soothed her sex with his hands as she came down from so high she might as well have taken drugs to get there.

  She was so heavy. More relaxed than ever. And he hadn’t entered her yet. How the hell was she going to be any good to him now?

  “See, you didn’t pee.”

  “Really?” she muttered. Sure seemed like it to me.

  “Nope. That’s female come, baby. It happens when you have a deep G-spot orgasm.”

  She hoped he wasn’t shitting her. She barely cared.

  It felt so fucking good.

  “Don’t move.” He stepped away toward the sink, rummaged in a few drawers. The water came on. It ran a moment. He returned. “Wet cloth. Hopefully it’s warm enough.” He set the washcloth on her and blotted her skin until he was satisfied. “Better?”

  She nodded. It felt amazing. He was so caring, so fucking considerate. Always.

  He came to her side and lifted her easily into his arms. Her entire body ached, and she moaned into his chest. His still-clothed chest. Even her arms hurt from straining to hold them above her head.

  He kissed her temple. It occurred to her he hadn’t kissed her on the mouth. She couldn’t move to look at him, though.

  He carried her down the short hall and into her bedroom. He managed to flip on the light with one hand. With all the tenderness in the world, he set her on the bed and pulled the covers over her body.

  Her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She gazed at him through the slit. He kneeled beside her and kissed her fingers. “I’m going to lock the door on my way out. Do you need me to set your alarm?”