Freefall (The Indigo Lounge Series, #5) (16 page)

With that he pulls his finger out of my mouth, and spreads saliva all over my lips before he lets go of my chin. He plants his other hand on the door and levers himself slightly away from my body.

My eager gaze drops and I gasp when I see his cock for the first time.

The thickness I already know about, but he’s also long and lightly veined, with a beautifully sculpted head I simply need to wrap my lips around.

I feel his blood surge beneath my touch and I know he’s coming. My head snaps up and he’s watching my face, his eyes half-shut and heavy with the pre-orgasmic wave riding him.

Slowly his mouth parts on a long, breathy
aah,
then he says my name, “Keely.”

I’m filled with a rush of power for a single, mind-blowing second as I glimpse a strange, incandescent light in his eyes. Then the power is ruthlessly snatched from me when he surges forcefully between my fingers, and an animal growl rumbles from his throat.

The first thick spurt hits my covered belly, followed by several more. Warmth seeps through the thin cotton of my top and soaks my skin. He jerks in my hold, his whole frame caught in a series of mesmeric spasms as he covers my front in cum. 

His eyes are still staring into mine when his shudders die down, and I can honestly admit that it’s the hottest thing I’ve experienced so far in my life. That is, until he leans forward and catches my lower lip in a less-than-gentle bite before sliding his tongue over the tingling ache.

“You were magnificent,” he mutters against my mouth.

The silky hairs of his trim beard tickle my skin, but before I can respond, he steps away and leaves me sagging against the door. I get a load of
his
full magnificence a second later as my eyes take in his warrior-like glory for the first time.

God
.

No wonder the man is arrogant and infuriating to a huge fault. With a body and face like that, not to mention his blue-blooded pedigree, Mason Sinclair has a hell of a lot to crow about.

He’s sleek, smooth muscle everywhere. Powerful thighs rise to lean hips and a short thicket of hair frames his thick cock and balls, lending his godly body a weirdly earthy roughness that makes him even hotter in my eyes.

He takes another step back and slides not-quite steady fingers through his hair. “Come into the kitchen so we can get you cleaned up,” he says, his gaze dropping to my stomach.

I look down and see the patch of wetness on my cream top. There’s also a couple drops of semen on the marble floor and my body reacts heatedly to the evidence of his release.

My gaze returns to find he’s watching me. He’s also getting turned on again if the thickening between his legs is any indication. My mouth waters as I watch him, and he holds out his hand to me.

“Come.”

I straighten from the door and thankfully my legs support me. When I reach him, he hooks his finger beneath the strap of my purse and pulls it over my head.

“Did you bring your phone?” he asks.

I frown my confusion. “Umm, yes.”

He nods. “Good. Bring it with you.”

I take it out of my purse and he hangs the bag on a hook as we pass a huge archway that opens into a cathedral-windowed hallway. I want to stop and gape, but the sight of Mason’s ass as he strides in front of me is a way better magnet that keeps me fixated on him.

We pass through another arch and enter the sort of kitchen I’ve only ever seen in luxury magazines, although I recognize the designer immediately. Gordon Neiderheimer’s beautiful lines and use of steel and wood grace Bethany and Zach’s new house in California, and I’d been the one to source the designer for them. In another life, I would’ve stopped to stroke the grey granite surface I pass on the way to where Mason is waiting for me.

But those eyes of his hook into me, and I can’t concentrate on anything else but him. He takes my phone from me when I reach him and places it on a counter. Then he reaches behind me and peels my top off much the way he did his own a lifetime ago. Next his thumbs pass under the cups, his fingernails grazing the underside of my breasts before he unhooks my cream lace bra and pulls it off.

The cool air hits my already pearled nipples and they furl further into hard nubs of screaming nerves.

“God, you’re beyond breathtaking,” he mutters thickly.

I tremble and a sound rumbles from his throat. One finger traces me from throat to navel, then he swirls his digit through the damp cum sticking to my skin. “I want to come on you again. I want to spread my cum all over you, soak you in it.”

“To do that we actually have to fuck,” I point out with a touch of impatient. “You’ve tortured me long enough. I need you inside me before I go out of my damn mind.”

His head snaps up, and his nostrils flare. He’s pissed but I’m fast losing the swill to care. All I want is to be fucked, and he’s keeping his beautiful, hard cock away from me. I reach for him but he captures my wrist in an unbreakable hold.

“Obedience brings rewards. Remember that.”

I bristle. “Yeah, I’ve done everything you asked since I walked in. Now it’s my turn. Or are you going to withhold now you’ve gotten yours?” The very thought makes me want to die. Or shamelessly beg.

“I’ve gotten nowhere near everything I want from you.” He releases me and slides his finger beneath my waistband, tugs at it. “Take it off.”

I comply only because I need to take it off to get fucked. But it doesn’t stop me glaring at him.

He smiles as I bend to push my pants down my legs, and my heart rattles through my chest like a pinball machine. God, he’s incredible when he smiles. I am partly thankful he doesn’t do it very often, because it packs a wallop that could be seriously detrimental to my mental health.

I straighten, and the smile melts off his face. I want to crow and bask in feminine power at the naked awe in his eyes when his looks at my body, but dear lord, I just want to be fucked as quickly and as thoroughly as possible.

I prepare to jump him, but he bends and grab my clothes and starts to walk away.

“Jesus, enough with the damn suspense! I’m fucking dying here!”

I cringe and freeze the moment the swear word spills from my lips, but he doesn’t react. He places my soiled clothes in a futuristic-looking chute and presses a button before he retraces his steps.

“I sent you an email earlier. Did you read it?”

“What?” I stammer the question, and I fear my head’s about to explode from the tornado-speed with which he switches from sex to other things.

He picks up my phone and hands it to me. “Since you haven’t brought up the issue, I’m assuming you haven’t read it yet.”

He’s right, I haven’t seen an email from him, and I struggle to think why he would send me one as I swipe my password and click onto my email account. The only answer my brain can supply is that it’s about work.

“You want to discuss work now?” I’m fast reaching the conclusion that he’s a sadist and I’m his victim of choice.

He steps behind me and trails his fingers over my shoulders. “Open it and read the attachment.”

I shudder helplessly and concentrate on scrolling through my unopened emails. I locate his, which came in a little over an hour ago, when I was soaking in the bubble bath, making myself clean and presentable to be tortured by a sadist.

Lust and anger war inside me as I stab the attachment and wait for the blue wheel to stop spinning in the pdf application.

I shudder when he moves my hair out of the way and replaces his mouth with his fingers. Warm kisses caress each vertebrae until he reaches the small of my back. The darned blue wheel is still turning so I flick a glance over my shoulder.

Mason is on his knees behind me, his fingers hooked into my panties. He slides the cream lace over my hips and it pools at my ankles.

“Did you open it yet?” he asks, then grips my hips in a firm hold.

I look down and try to concentrate on the document filling my screen. “Umm...yes.”

“Good.”

I squeal as he buries his face between my ass cheeks and tongues me from front to back. My legs turn liquid, and I barely manage to catch myself on the counter before I end up in a heap on the floor.

He stops after that one lick and stands. “I’m going to get us a drink. Read it before I get back.” He kisses me, and I taste my pungent need on his lips. He walks away, and I struggle to pull my attention from his fine ass to whatever the hell he’s so insistent on me reading.

At first the words are small and meaningless to me. I turn my phone to landscape position, and the words flare up and smack me between the eyes.

Still I stare at the row after row of
negative
before I raise my head. “You sent me your medical history?”

He takes the wine out of the chiller and pours out one glass before filling another with water. “Yes. And I had a peek at yours.”

“You did what?” I screech.

He comes toward me, one hand holding out the glass of wine. “I did it to save time. I thought you’d do the same by reading my email before I picked you up. I knew you hadn’t seen mine since you didn’t give me the hard time you’re about to right now. Before you do, let me see if I can save you the time we could be using to fuck. You submitted to the mandatory test required for the IL trips. I wasn’t planning to be on one till two days ago. I had mine done yesterday. As you can see, I’m clean. So are you. We’re free to fuck each other raw—and you can take that whichever way you want to. You have ten seconds to debate whether you want to spend another hour arguing with me or getting the fucking you’ve been begging for since we walked in.”

I shake my head and toss my phone back on the counter. “You’re fucking unbelievable. Is it just the size of your bank account that makes you think you can—What the hell are you doing?” I yelp. “Dammit, Mason, put me down!”

Keely

T
he arms banding my waist don’t free me. Instead, I’m marched across the kitchen to the breakfast island and set down before a bar stool.

His foot roughly kicks out my ankles and pushes me forward. I land on my stomach, and my arms flail wildly before I grab ahold of the stool legs to steady myself.

“Mason, I seriously hope you’re not going there again!” I use the leverage on the stool to rise, but the hand on my back prevents me from straightening.

Apprehension climbs into my throat as he leans in close enough to feel his breath wash over my ear.

“You will learn to believe me when I say there’ll be consequences for your foul mouth.”

His palm lands a harsh, merciless slap on my bare ass. Another five follow—two for yesterday and four for the two
fucks
I’d uttered since entering the kitchen.

As quickly as he’d bent me over the stool, he releases me, then catches me as I wobble on my feet. He walks me to the counter and hands me the wine, while his other hand pets the soreness out of my stinging ass.

“Now, where were we?” he asks as if the last sixty seconds hasn’t happened.

I’m reeling at the mind-fuckedness of the whole thing. “Mason...”I stop when I hear the wobble in my voice. At the same time, I feel the increased wetness between my legs and hate myself even more for it. “I told you I hate being spanked.”

The gleam in his eyes tells me he thinks I’m full of shit. “I don’t think you do. Or you wouldn’t keep doing what will get you punished. I don’t buy that you can’t help yourself. You just choose not to.”

I slam the glass down. “Dammit, I’m not a child you can take over your knee whenever you feel like it.”

He shrugs. “Act like an adult and I won’t.”

I shake with anger, arousal and a whole multitude of emotions I don’t want to name.

He gulps in a few more mouthfuls of water before he sets his glass down next to mine. “Are you ready to continue?”

I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself,
permanently
. But he’s a fucking god, with his mouth-watering body and even more spectacular cock, and I haven’t had sex in so fucking long... My shallow mind and even shallower body rob me of speech, and I just stare back at him like the sex-starved idiot I’ve turned into.

Like a true predator sensing weakness, he reaches out and cups my breasts, squeezes my nipples with the just the right amount of pressure that straddles the fine line between pleasure and pain.

He repeats the move and my knees buckle. “Oh God!”

Another step closer, and the heat of his body touches mine for the first time. His cock nudges my belly, and my hands find his hip, eager to get even closer. He tenses for a moment, but when I look up, I see only pure hunger and lust on his face.

He kisses the corner of my mouth as he continues to knead my breasts with firm, expert caresses. God, he’s good. I’m getting wetter and more desperate by the second, and he’s only touching my breasts. “I said, are you ready to continue?”

“Y...yes,” I sigh.

“Good, but I also need to hear that you’re happy with the results of the medical report. Otherwise, I need to get the condoms.”

I bite my lip and try not to think about the last time I’d had sex without protection. Of course the details are blurry enough to not be worth the effort, but my heart lurches and a cold shiver lances down my spine all the same.

Mason’s gaze sharpens, and his hands leave my breasts to capture my nape. “Keely?”

When I refuse to meet his gaze, he bends his knees until he’s eye-level with me. I have no choice but to meet his probing stare.

“What?” I throw out defiantly.

“What’s going on?”

I shrug. “I don’t mind ex...experimenting when it comes to sex, but you’ve taken almost every decision out of my hands. I don’t like giving up control. Especially when it comes to sex.”

He frowns. “
Especially
? Why not?”

Shit
. “I just don’t, okay?”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t buy that. Who took away your control?”

Whoa
...when had the conversation taken the forked road to freak-ville? I shake my head. There’s no way I’m talking about
that
with him. I try to knock his hands away, but he holds firm. “It’s none of your damn business.” My breath strangles in my lungs as it dawns on me that I may as well have raised a red flag by giving him that answer. “You have no right to do this, Mason.”