Iron Fury MC Boxed Set

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Iron Fury MC Boxed Set Page 68

by Bella Jewel


  I just stand there, completely frozen in spot.

  He’s naked. Blissfully, gloriously, naked.

  Every inch of his hard body is glistening from his shower, his long hair is unbraided and loose around his shoulders, water droplets coming off the ends and rolling down his chest. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, and good lord, I can’t look away. I don’t want to look away. I want to lunge at him, every inch of my body is screaming at me to attack, in the best possible way, of course.

  My knees shake, and I whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were … uh …”

  Why haven’t I run out of this room yet?

  Why am I still standing here?

  Why am I hoping he’ll stride over and …

  Good lord.

  He’s striding over.

  Like a lion on a hunt. His eyes are intense. So fucking intense I can’t breathe for a few torturous seconds as he stalks toward me. On a mission.

  “Ma—” I begin, but he reaches me, leans down, curls both hands around my ass, and launches me up and into his arms.

  I don’t protest.

  I don’t even want to try.

  My mouth finds his and I kiss him; I kiss him so hard my lips burn, but it’s the best feeling in the whole world. It feels incredible, so fucking good. He kisses me back, lips warm from the shower, body hard and wet. I reach for that thick, long hair, and tangle my fingers through it, tugging, bringing his lips closer even though they’re already smashed against mine.

  More.

  I need more.

  He walks to the bed and drops me down, and I bounce just a little before his hands go to my panties and he grabs hold of them. “What the fuck did I say about walkin’ about my house in these?”

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

  “I said I’d fuck you. And now, I’m goin’ to fuck you.”

  The panties disappear quickly, sliding off my body with little to no effort. And then his big body is looming over mine, going for my cotton tank and jerking it up and over my head, leaving me as naked as him and equally as aroused.

  “Fuck,” he growls. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

  God damn.

  My pussy just became team Mason.

  His mouth drops to my neck, and he starts kissing and licking, slowly moving down over my flesh, making me quiver with every second that passes. Down over my collar bone he moves, over my chest, until he reaches my breasts. His mouth curls around my nipple, and I gasp, arching up, causing his big hands to find my hips and pin me back down. He’s so dominant, so strong, so fucking powerful. There is no control when it comes to Mason.

  He makes the rules.

  He licks and sucks until I’m gasping and my breath hitches. I try to thrust up into him, but he isn’t allowing me any access. He’s taking what he wants, and only what he wants. He releases a hand from my hip and slides it between my thighs, finding me soaked and ready. With a growl against my nipple, he slips a finger inside me and starts rotating it around, in small circles at first, and then putting a little more pressure on. He’s not thrusting his finger, not fucking me with it, but instead rubbing that bundle of nerves inside me.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I moan his name and arch up, needing him, feeling far too many things at once.

  His finger keeps swirling, and his mouth keeps licking, and just before I’m about to cum from the pleasure, he stops all of it. A pained whimper leaves my throat as he slides his finger from my pussy, and brings it up to my mouth, slipping it between my lips.

  “When you cum, it’s around my cock. Understand?”

  I nod, sucking his finger, making a deep throaty moan slide up and out of his mouth.

  “You protected?” he asks me, slipping the finger from my lips.

  I lick them, and nod.

  “You clean?”

  I nod again, then whisper, “Are you?”

  He nods, and my eyes flash.

  “I’m goin’ to fuck you now, but know this, Saskia, it’s the first of many fuckin’ times. What I want, I get. And right now, I want you.”

  Oh, boy.

  “Get on your hands and knees.”

  So demanding. So dominant. I can’t breathe.

  I push up and turn onto my hands and knees. This, by far, has to be one of my favorite positions. I feel everything, all of it, deep inside me. And with Mason, I know I’ll feel it right where I need to feel it. Deep. Hard. Ecstasy.

  His hand slides over my ass, curving around the shape of it, before squeezing softly. And then he’s behind me, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to push my chest down onto the bed. Oh, lord. Yes. His hand glides down my spine and he uses the other hand to position his cock at my entrance and, with one, hard stroke, he’s inside me. I whimper as my body, yet again, stretches around him.

  It feels incredible.

  “Mason,” I whimper.

  He pulls back and slams back in, causing his name to come out garbled as it mixes with a moan. He starts fucking me hard, slamming his hips into mine, his balls slapping my clit, his body, powerful and strong, pushing mine further and further up the bed. His hands are on my ass, and good lord, I can’t think straight. I’m going to cum so hard people three blocks down will hear me screaming his name.

  And just as I’m about to, he stops, slowing the pace so he’s merely dragging his cock in and out of my pussy, taking it right out and sliding it back in. Carefully. Slowly. Tormenting me in the worst possible way.

  Because it feels incredible.

  And I need him to fuck me hard.

  “Mason,” I whimper, clutching the sheets. “Please.”

  “When I’m ready,” he growls, his voice raspy from pleasure.

  Fuck, I want to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life.

  “Please,” I beg again.

  He just keeps dragging his cock in and out, slowly, like he has all day and not a care in the world. The thick length glides into my body, and then out, and then back in again. His hands stroke over my ass, down the cheeks, up my spine, smoothing over my skin in a gentle caress.

  “Please,” I gasp, trying to push back on him.

  “When. I’m. Ready.”

  I make a pained sound in my throat, and then he slams his cock into me, knocking all thoughts from my mind.

  And then he’s fucking me again.

  Hard, just like he was before.

  The orgasm that tears through me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s so powerful my screams become ragged and raspy. I clutch the sheets and his name leaves my lips over and over as the most incredible sensation grips my body, taking me to another place, leaving me completely breathless.

  And then he’s fucking me so hard the bed is creaking, and he’s growling something low under his breath, and then he’s coming inside me. I can feel every pulse of his cock, and the sounds that leave his throat make me tighten around him. Those sounds, knowing I created them.

  Pure bliss.

  ~12~

  MASON

  “Mason?” she asks, lying beside me, both of us just having caught our breath from what was, without a fucking doubt, the best sex I’ve had in a long time.

  I actually felt it. Deeper than just a release. Deeper than just a one-night stand. I felt it. I fucking felt her. Not sure how I feel about that. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any sort of connection with a woman, and none quite like this. The situation is fucking messed up, and I know better than to get involved. She’s not even over her fuck head boyfriend.

  But fucked if I don’t want to stay right here next to her and keep her safe.

  Protection.

  Fierce.

  So fucking fierce.

  “Yeah?” I murmur, and I can still smell the sex lingering in the room.

  “What happened to your mom?”

  I go stiff, as I always do when someone mentions her. I’ve not told anyone about my mom. Not fucking ever. N
ot even the people in the club. So why the fuck I choose to start telling the girl next to me, who I barely know, is beyond me.

  But I do.

  “She killed herself.”

  She makes a little gasping sound, and for a moment, the room is dead fucking silent.

  “Why?” she whispers.

  “She was mentally unwell. Hallucinations. Night terrors. She got sick after my dad passed, and she had a scare one night. Somethin’ went wrong in her brain, ten different doctors, not one of them could tell me what it was. Some said it was her own doin’, others said it could be a condition. Got her help. Did fuck all. One day I went out, tryin’ to find work, and when I came home, she was dead. Took a whole bottle of pills while her nurse was downstairs makin’ dinner. Nurse thought she was asleep, so didn’t bother her.”

  “Mason,” Saskia whispers, “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine how that must have felt for you.”

  Like a hole was burned into my fucking heart, and I’ve never been able to fill it again.

  That’s how it felt.

  Like hell had opened its doors and sucked me in.

  I’ll never forget finding my mother like that.

  Fucking never. Not for as long as I live.

  “She’s asleep,” Georgiana says, finishing up the last touches to the spaghetti she has made for dinner. Mom’s favorite.

  “How long has she been out?” I ask, putting my keys down. I’ve been unsuccessful yet again at finding a job. Nothing. Nobody wants someone who can’t commit all their time to the job. I can’t promise I’ll always be there. I’ve tried explaining my situation, but nobody cares. They want workers who are a hundred percent commited, and that’s it.

  “Over three hours. She had a nice shower, and I checked on her about two hours ago and she was asleep, I didn’t want to bother her. You know she’s been awake for three nights now. She’ll probably sleep all night; I figured it was best to leave her.”

  I nod. “Good idea, she needs rest. When she gets tired, things get harder for her.”

  “Have you had any luck with the new therapist she’s been talking to?”

  I shake my head. “No, she’s convinced that she’s out to get her. The therapist recommended an institution, but I don’t think I can live with myself if I put her in one of those.”

  She smiles, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, but she may need it. It may be what’s best for her.”

  I nod. “I’m going to go check on her.”

  I turn and walk out. It may be what’s best for her, but my mother was perfectly healthy before my dad died. A strong and vibrant woman. Do I really throw the towel in and have her institutionalized over what? Something that might pass on its own? Something that isn’t even real? Am I being selfish keeping her here? Should I be considering the next best thing?

  I sigh and run my hands through my hair, walking into her bedroom. She’s on her stomach, face down, which immediately rings a bell. I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I walk over and my hand immediately rests on her back. She’s not breathing. Panic unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life grips me and I roll her over. There is vomit coming out of her mouth, staining the pillow, and her skin is a funny color.

  My blood drains out of my face.

  And I reach for her pulse.

  It isn’t there.

  I don’t realize I’m screaming until Georgiana comes running into the room. I start CPR, but I know, I already know, deep in my fucking chest, my mother is gone.

  “No,” Georgiana cries. “No!”

  “Call an ambulance!” I scream, pumping my mother’s chest. “Call it.”

  Come on, Mom.

  Please.

  Fucking come on.

  Don’t do this to me.

  Please.

  “Are you okay?” Saskia asks, and I’m jerked from the awful fucking memory of the day I lost my mother.

  “Yeah, I just don’t like thinkin’ of it. She was sick for a long time, but I didn’t think it had gotten that bad.”

  “It isn’t your fault, Mason.”

  My eyes swing to hers and hold them. Nobody has ever said that to me. Not that it fucking matters; I’ll always blame myself for not being there, for not taking that extra step and getting the help she needed, for believing she was okay with me when she was far too gone for me to handle. But hearing it makes something ache inside me.

  “Mason?” Saskia says, rolling to her side and staring at me.

  “Not much you can say that’ll make me think it ain’t my fault, but thanks.”

  She opens her mouth to say something and then shuts it. She’s a smart girl, knows when to push, knows when not to push. A lot of women don’t have that trait, they’ll argue and push until you lose your shit. Saskia is smart. She knows when to be quiet. She’s even fucking smarter when she changes the subject.

  “I have to know …”

  I glance at her. “You’re goin’ to ask, so stop hesitatin’.”

  “The girl … you had tied up …”

  “Not my girlfriend.”

  She snorts. “Calm down, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Get to the point, sweetheart.”

  She smiles. “I like it when you’re nice.”

  “Saskia,” I warn. “You’re takin’ the train on a whole different route right now.”

  She giggles. And I fucking like how it sounds.

  “Right,” she says, still smiling. “Is that like a kink of yours? Tying up women? All day?”

  I shrug. “She does whatever she thinks will keep me hangin’ around. She’s a wild spark in bed, like’s all that kind of shit, so I go along with it.”

  Saskia bites her lip and frowns a little.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “Nothing.”

  I grin, and her eyes drop to my lips. “Wouldn’t be a little jealous, would you?”

  She grunts, but her cheeks flush. “Hell no, I’d have to like you to be jealous.”

  My grin gets bigger. “Both know you like me.”

  “As if,” she huffs. “I like you about as much as I like getting dog poop on my shoe. It’s extremely inconvenient.”

  I chuckle, and she can’t help it, she breaks out in a grin.

  “Okay,” she says.

  “Okay, what?”

  “I like you. Just a little.”

  I roll over, grabbing her and bringing her down on top of me. When her face is only inches from mine, I say, “Always knew you did.”

  She snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  I flip her again, pinning her with my body, giving her a hungry look as my dick hardens between her legs.

  “Guess what time it is?”

  She blinks, and whimpers when I thrust against her. “What?”

  “Time for round two.”

  And round two fucking smashes round one outta the park.

  Fuck yeah.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  I only spent one day at my apartment this week, and that was purely because I felt guilty not being there. I started just after ten this morning, because technically I don’t have to be here today except to do a couple of basic things. Still, I needed the distraction. After everything that has been happening, I haven’t been able to think clearly, and being alone doesn’t help that.

  Chantelle and I are going out with the biker babe girls tonight for drinks.

  I can’t wait for that.

  Girl time. Just what I need.

  Mason told me they questioned the man from the other night and, apparently, he only came after me because he heard I was Enzo’s girlfriend, but it’s hard to know if he’s telling the truth or not. Malakai says he’s not convinced I’m out of danger, and I need to be a hundred percent diligent on making sure I’m careful about where I go and what I’m doing, and most of the time, I have someone with me. Though, right now, I don’t want someone with me all the time. So, I threw down, just a little, and the
y agreed so long as I keep the door locked when I’m here, I can be here alone.

  It’s something, I guess.

  I start my usual morning clean. Mason isn’t here, and by the looks, hasn’t been all night. I can’t help that my mind wanders to where he might have gone. I know he spends a lot of time at the club, but is that purely just to party and sleep with those girls they call club whores? Or is it because he just doesn’t like being here alone? I shrug it off, either way, and get to work.

  I go straight up to the bedrooms. I’ll wash the sheets today. The weather is fine, so they’ll dry quickly outside. I go to Mason’s room first and open the door. It’s unlocked, so I’m completely shocked and taken back when I step in and see the same girl who was tied up on the bed in there again. Only she’s not tied up. She’s wearing lingerie and is sprawled across his bed, looking so fucking perfect it hurts my eyes to stare at her.

  I don’t even know her fucking name.

  “What the hell?” she snaps. “He told me today was a free day!”

  He told her that?

  Something strange clenches my chest, something unfamiliar, something I haven’t felt before. I rub my chest, confused. Why do I care if she’s here for Mason? I’m not even fully over Enzo, so why the hell do I feel like she just slapped me? Am I … jealous? No. I can’t be. We’re just having fun. That’s all. Nothing more. Nothing less. I don’t care about him. Right?

  No.

  I pull myself together.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but I’m here every day. And, last time I checked, he’s not here. I guess he didn’t get the memo.”

  She scowls at me. “He’s aware I’m coming, it’s just you weren’t meant to be here.”

  Did he say that?

  God dammit, why is my body tingling and my chest clenching?

  Stupid, stupid body.

  Snap out of it.

  “Well, I am here. And I have work to do.”

  “Do it elsewhere,” she spits at me.

  Damn. I hate this woman. Really, really dislike her and her perfect ass and tits.

  Fuck her.

  “I would do it elsewhere, only you’ve planted your plastic ass on the sheets I need to wash.”

  “Wash them another day!” she barks.

 

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