The Young & the Sinner: An Age-Gap Romance (The Entangled Past Series)

by V. T. Do

  Mason ran the back of his pointer finger across my cheek and I resisted the urge to close my eyes. How could one man have such a huge effect on me? How could I still crave him when everything in me knew how wrong this was? How wrong we were for each other?

  I looked at him in the eyes, and I knew he was feeling the same way I was feeling.

  Then without another word, he pulled me into his arms and carried me out of the house. It wasn’t until we got to his car, when he deposited me into the passenger seat, that I found my words. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

  “To my apartment. We’re not having this conversation at my brother’s house.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window as Mason pulled away. The sun was gone, and the empty branches were moving from a strong wind picking up.

  “Do you really think the setting would change the direction of this conversation?”

  Mason must know why I was avoiding him. What I was planning on doing. That wouldn’t change whether we were at Max’s house or his apartment.

  He shook his head but didn’t say anything. And I couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking just by looking at him. Not knowing was the worst part, because I couldn’t predict how he would react. And I wasn’t sure how I wanted him to react.

  We got to his apartment in no time. I didn’t say anything as I got out the car, nor when I followed Mason up to his apartment. He opened the door, and I let out a sigh, loving how warm it was. Chicago in the fall time was unpredictable. We could have gorgeous weather one day, and windy, ugly weather the next. Today, the weather was more on the ugly side.

  I walked to the sofa and sat down while Mason went into the kitchen, making tea. I heard the tea kettle whistling, and the sound of mugs clattering. Then silence.

  And still, no Mason.

  I looked to the kitchen and found his back to me, arms braced on the counter with his head down. He looked so lost that I couldn’t help but go to him, as if there was an invisible string attached to me, and to him, reeling us closer together.

  It had always felt like that with Mason. And I didn’t want to let him go. But I had to, didn’t I?

  I placed a hand on his broad shoulder and felt his muscles tensed beneath my touch. He turned around and took me in.

  “Why, baby?”

  I shook my head, unable to make the words form. I don’t think we should do this anymore.

  Eight simple words that by themselves were utterly meaningless. But together, and in reference to Mason, they felt absolutely shattering. How would you go about letting go of the man you loved?

  Because that was what this was. I was in love with Mason Kade, and I didn’t know how to let him go.

  “Is it because of your dad?” he asked, when I still hadn’t said anything.

  “Yes and no,” I said softly. I shook my head. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  Mason paused for a moment, and for a quick second, I didn’t think he would say anything. But then he asked, “Why not?”

  I looked away. “It’s wrong. We’re not good for each other.” And that was true, wasn’t it? Because even though I had never felt wrong in his arms, we were hiding it from Max, so it had to be. I shook my head and turned away. I was breaking, and I didn’t want him to see.

  The choice was between him and Max, and as deeply as I had fallen for Mason, how could I choose anyone over Max? Not when Max had always chosen me over everyone else, including my own mother.

  I took one step forward, wanting to leave his presence behind, but Mason stopped me with one hand on my shoulder. He slowly turned me around, and I looked down at our feet, unable to meet his eyes.

  “No,” Mason said. As if it was that simple.

  “You can’t just decide that for me,” I answered back.

  “Okay. Then look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this, don’t want me, anymore.”

  My eyes jumped to his, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking then. I opened my mouth to say exactly that, but the words died in my mouth before they could even leave. It wouldn’t matter what I say. We’d both I know I would be lying. A self-satisfied smirk formed on his mouth and I scowled. This should be all the encouragement I needed to say the words, but still, they would not come.

  “We’re not talking about this anymore,” I said. I turned away and tried to take off. Mason grabbed me by the arms and pulled me against his hard body instead, my back plastered to his front. One of my arms was twisted behind my back, held immobile in his firm grip, yet I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t scared of Mason. Or at least, I wasn’t scared that Mason would hurt me physically.

  “Mason,” I said with a growl.

  He moved his lip down and tugged my earlobe with his teeth. “Does this feel wrong to you?” he asked, his voice low.

  Goosebumps rose across my skin, and I wanted to shout, Yes!

  But it didn’t feel wrong. Not at all. It felt good. Too good.

  My eyes fluttered closed when he moved his lips down to my neck and took the tender skin there between his mouth and sucked. I felt that all the way down to my sex.

  “Mason,” I said, only even I wasn’t sure what I was asking him. To continue? To stop? What did it say about me when I wanted to do nothing more than melt into him? Mason used his free hand to roam my body, leaving a trail of burning flames in his wake. I sucked in a stuttering breath when he made a move to unbutton the red plaid shirt I wore.

  One button, then the next, then next, until finally, he got to the last, and left the shirt gaping open. He grabbed my breast and squeezed, and I closed my eyes, moving my legs together to relieve the ache.

  “What about this?” he asked softly. “Does this feel wrong, baby?”

  Whatever point he had been trying to prove by touching me like that, I had already forgotten. I just wanted him to keep touching me. Just like that.

  He moved us closer together, and I could feel his hardness against the small of my back. His hand moved inside the cup of my lacy bra, and he grasped my nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling.

  “Answer me,” he demanded hotly.

  I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t feel wrong.”

  His touch had always felt right. Whether his touch was gentle or demanding, with reverence and worship, or degrading and harsh, it always felt right.

  He moved me against the kitchen island, the dull edge of it pushed against my stomach. I looked back at him, and there was this dark, hungry look in his eyes. I swallowed loudly, and he moved in closer, until there wasn’t an inch of space separating us.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, as he continued to fondle me. It was getting harder and harder to think about anything else but how and where he was touching me. It was getting harder to think, period.

  “Reminding you,” he answered roughly, his hands moving down. They skimmed across my belly, and my muscles there contracted. Then he unbuttoned my jeans and my head leaned forward as I let out a small whimper. I didn’t realize I had my eyes closed until they shot open when I felt Mason’s hand beneath my panties, searching for my clit.

  “Mason,” I said when he circled the bundle of nerves with his finger, once, twice, and three times more.

  I moved my hip along his hand, trying to find that delicious friction, the one I knew could make me come. Mason grabbed my hip with his other hand to stop me. When I held still, my breathing coming out in pants, he moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “Good girl.”

  God, why were those two words so erotic? And why did I want him to say them to me over and over again. I wanted to be his good girl.

  I didn’t know why I was fighting us so bad.

  Mason pulled his hand out of my panties and I almost whimpered in protest. But then he was undressing me, and I knew he wasn’t done. He pulled the red shirt off and threw it on the kitchen floor, then unbuckled my bra, yanking it down my arms, impatient to bare all of me to his gaze.

  He pulled my jeans and panties off
next, and I knew he could see the wet spot on my red panties. Mason groaned. “God, I love how responsive you are to me.”

  My cheeks were flushed and all I could do was stare at him, trying hard not to cover my naked body with my hands.

  Somehow, I felt both vulnerable and alive at the same time.

  Mason’s heated gaze took in my body slowly, looking at some spots longer than others. When he honed in on my pussy, my hands twitched with the urge to hide it. But then he licked his lips, and I became more aroused.

  “M-Mason?”

  He pressed a finger against my lips. “Shh, baby. It’s alright. Remember what I said this is?”

  “A… a reminder,” I said quietly. He smiled, and it wasn’t nice.

  “Yes,” he said, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand and pulling me closer to him. “A reminder.”

  He picked me up and placed me on the kitchen island effortlessly. I jumped when my bare bottom hit the cold granite.

  On the counter, I was eye level with Mason for the first time. He wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me in closer to him, moving between my legs until they were wrapped around his hips, exposing me even more than before.

  He kissed me, and I couldn’t help but softened against him. To follow and let him lead. To let him control what we did and how we did it. I moaned into his mouth when he pulled my bottom lip between his lips and bit it.

  Then he pulled away and both us were breathing noticeably harder, our breaths mingled in the small space between our lips.

  “If you want me to stop at any time, just say ‘vegetables,’ okay? Because until you say it, I won’t. Do you understand, Olivia?” he said darkly.

  Vegetables? How weird. I scrunched my nose up. “I don’t like vegetables.”

  His lips twitched. “I know.”

  I met his eyes and nodded. Whatever he had planned for me would be different from anything we had done before. And I knew Lorenzo’s assault was the reason he had always treated me like glass. Like I was too breakable. I didn’t want to be treated like that anymore.

  “Give me your words, baby. I need to hear you tell me that you understand.”

  “I understand,” I said softly.

  He smiled, and I could see the change in him then. It was so instantaneous, I had a hard time seeing my Mason in this new man.

  I tried to back away, but there was nowhere else to go. I was still on the kitchen island and Mason was between my legs. He moved his hand down between us and used his thumb to play with my clit. I tightened my legs around him, wanting so desperately for the release I knew he could give me.

  But he wouldn’t.

  At least, not yet.

  We looked down at the same time, and suddenly it was getting too hard to breathe. There was just something about watching his huge thumb move in a circular motion, to the way his big hand would sometimes brush up against my opening, and to the contrast in coloring between my skin and his.

  He moved his hand away then, and I almost growled. Mason shot me a small smile, and then he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down until I was lying flat, my whole front more exposed to him.

  He grabbed my breasts and played with them. “I love your body, Olivia. I love your curves, your coloring, those perfect little freckles scattering in random places, and I especially love your tits.” As if to emphasize it, he squeezed my tits and pinched my nipples hard. Harder than I had ever done to myself.

  “Oh, God.” I could come from this alone.

  He let go of me and I opened my eyes to watched him. Mason was undoing his tie. I frowned. Was he going to get naked as well? A thrill of excitement crawled up my spine. I had never seen Mason fully naked. Glimpses of him, sure. But he was always so careful about wearing clothes in front of me. I thought it was because he didn’t want to scare me.

  But when the tie came off of him, he didn’t unbutton his shirt like I thought he would. He hung the tie off one shoulder and went back to me. I saw the devil in his eyes then, and I swallowed loudly as he hooked his hand under my knees and pushed until they were touching my torso. Like this, I was sure he could see everything.

  He could see how wet I was for him. Mason looked down and licked his lips. My sex clenched, and he noticed.

  “So, fucking beautiful. I need a taste, baby. You’ll let me taste you, won’t you?”

  I wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, but I nodded anyway. He slowly removed his hand and said, “Keep your legs up like this for me, okay?” I nodded, and he smiled, satisfied. “Good girl.”

  I couldn’t hide my response to those words then, and Mason knew it. His smile was downright wicked when he said, “You like it when I call you a good girl?”

  I knew he expected an answer from me, because he paused and took me in. Cheeks flaming, I responded with a shy, “Yeah.”

  “Good. You can be my good girl. And you know what happens to good girls when they’re bad?”

  “What?”

  “They get punished.”

  “But I wasn’t bad.”

  “No? I think all of my unanswered calls would say otherwise.”

  I looked away. Being in this position with him, I couldn’t even remember why I thought it was a good idea to avoid him in the first place.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I know, baby.”

  And he didn’t say any more. He grabbed my arms and hooked them under my knees. I looked at him questioningly, not knowing what he was doing until he took his tie and bound my wrist together.

  “Mason. What are you doing?”

  “Showing you,” he said cryptically. “Are the binds too tight?”

  I tried to move my hands but couldn’t. But they didn’t hurt me. They were tight, but not too much that would leave any lasting marks on my skin. I shook my head.

  “Good.” He moved his hands down to my pussy and I my entire body clenched, seeing where he was going with this. “Look at this. Look how you’re responding to me.” He paused, his eyes taking me in. “I’m going to enter you, baby, okay?”

  I nodded, and Mason’s eyes flashed. “Yes,” I answered quickly.

  He smiled. “Good. Are you with me?”

  “I’m with you.”

  He moved a finger inside me, and I cried out, squeezing the finger around me.

  Mason groaned. “You’re so tight. I bet you would feel amazing around my cock.”

  I tightened around him even more, and that seemed to put Mason in a frenzy. He leaned down and took the lips of my pussy in his mouth, sucking. I squirmed and screamed, the sensation suddenly too much, especially since he still had that finger inside of me, fucking me with it.

  “Are you with me, Olivia?” he asked again, his hot breath fanning across my sensitive flesh.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. I want you to stay with me, okay? This is what we’re doing together. No one else.”

  Again, I nodded. I knew why he was saying that. He didn’t want me to get lost in my head and see Lorenzo. But I was with Mason. I didn’t see anyone else.

  Mason placed his other hand on my hip, keeping me still. But how could I keep still when he doing this to me?

  He used the flat of his tongue to lick my slick center before finding the nub above my entrance and sucking.

  “Oh, my. Mason. Please. This is too much. I don’t think I can take this anymore.”

  “Then come, Olivia. Come for me.”

  He bit the lip and I came, like an explosion of a bomb. But Mason’s mouth was still on me. Usually, he would stop when I came, to give me a chance to catch my breath. But not this time. I tried to squirm away from him, but the fact that my legs were up and open for him, the fact that my hands were bound together, keeping my knees like that, made it impossible to move away.

  Mason continued to torture me with his mouth, as he moved his finger in and out of me.

  Oh, God.

  This was a punishment.

  He wouldn’t let u
p, and I didn’t know how many orgasms he wanted to get out of me, but he wasn’t stopping.

  “Mason, please,” I begged. I was too sensitive down there. I couldn’t possibly come again, and so soon after the first. I tried to move back, but he only pulled me toward him again.

  He wasn’t listening, and he drew my second orgasm out quickly.

  Moving up, he spit on me. The action was as weird as it was erotic. I didn’t think he needed to lubricate me anymore, not after two orgasms. But it wasn’t my pussy he was trying to lubricate. He used his fingers to smear the wetness down to my back end, and I knew the tight hole puckered beneath his touch, and he could see that.

  He entered two fingers inside of me, stretching me out. A burning sensation took hold, but it wasn’t a bad kind of burn. Just different. “Mason, what are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer as he continued to play with me there. I clenched around him, and then his mouth was back on me, taking in my aching flesh in his mouth, using his teeth on my labia. I tried to move back but couldn’t.

  I was still too sensitive, and there was no way I could come again. My back arched when he moved his finger, and I felt his tongue inside of me. “Oh, no, no, no,” I chanted. This was too much. “Please stop,” I begged brokenly.

  He didn’t stop.

  He sucked the drenched lips into his mouth forcefully, and my back arched, trying to buck against him. Mason simply held me still with his hand on my hips.

  A third orgasm came out of nowhere, and I was so soak that for a moment I feared I might have wet myself.

  The muscles in my body clamped together at the peak of the orgasms, and I never came down.

  I didn’t think I could take it anymore. I couldn’t come anymore.

  But he continued his torment, his mouth sucking and biting as he drove his fingers inside of me viciously. I came a fourth time, and tears sprang to my eyes. I closed them tight, as my body convulsed under the height of that orgasm.

  “Please don’t make me come again,” I begged.

  Finally, Mason moved away from me. He pulled his finger out, and my foot twitched from the sudden movement. I looked up and found his mouth glistening from me. He licked his lips, and my stomach clenched in response. Quietly, he untied my hand. My legs and arms fell down, and I didn’t care how much of me he could see. I could cry in relief as all the blood rushed down to my limbs.