by Alisha Rai
He was so lost in the bliss of suckling the nipples he’d spent months dreaming about, he barely registered her increasingly frantic movements underneath him, her escalating breathy moans. When she scraped her nails down his back, the slight pain brought him back to reality. He slid a hand down her lithe body. All it took was a flutter of his fingers against her clit and she climaxed. He managed to lift his head to catch her in the last throes of her orgasm. She looked beautiful, her head thrown back, her dark hair a waterfall over the pillow.
Her breasts rose and fell and he took a second to press a chaste kiss against each wet nipple. “Leyla, you’re amazing.”
“Thank you. I’d say you should give yourself a pat on the back.”
“No, it’s all you. I could see your nipples through that bikini, did you know that?”
She laughed. “Seriously?”
“Mmmm. I dreamed that I ripped your top off and fucked those pretty little breasts.”
She inhaled, and he tried not to smile. His prim little Leyla liked a little dirty talk. “Want to try it?”
“I’ve never… I’m kind of small.”
He crawled up her lax body until he straddled her chest. He trailed a hand up between her breasts, and then centered his cock right between them. Mason pushed the mounds together until they created a warm valley. “The perfect size,” he said hoarsely.
She looked up at him, her eyes big and brown, and he wished he could imprint the erotic sight right in his memory. He began to thrust, the weight of his balls dragging on her skin and creating another sort of friction. “Open your mouth. Lick me.”
When he thrust toward her mouth, she did, and he moaned in rising pleasure and pinched her nipples in retribution.
It just wasn’t enough, though, and he jerked away to kneel between her legs. He pulled her forward and up until she straddled his lap, and guided her down, down, down, until he penetrated her completely.
The shocking heat and wetness surrounding him stunned him, and it took a second to realize why he felt so amazingly, mind-blowingly good. Their eyes locked, and he could see she realized it at the exact same time. “Mason…”
He shuddered and remained absolutely still. “I know.”
“I’m not on the pill.”
The words were soft in the room, but she may as well have shouted them. Instead of yanking out of her with all possible haste, his cock swelled inside of her. She made a wordless exclamation and shifted in his grasp. He stilled her motions.
The thought of pumping himself dry inside her unprotected body, of having her take his semen…of watching her grow round with his child…
Hell, no wonder the human race procreated like crazy. It took a strong man to deny this biological urge. “I won’t come inside of you.” Even as he said it, he recognized the ridiculousness of the words.
Her laugh was half amused, half regretful. “Dr. Barrett, you know better.”
He did know better, but he just did not fucking care. That was the problem. For a solid twenty seconds, he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, couldn’t move. The walls of her pussy rippled around him where he was buried so still inside of her. He swore he could feel every tissue, every inch of her. He released her hips and clenched his teeth. “Climb off. I can’t do it.”
She seemed as reluctant as he was to separate their bodies, but he guessed she was just stronger than he was, because she dismounted and knelt on the bed next to him.
They both looked at his cock, stiff and flushed red, the veins prominent along the sides. Covered in her juices. He enclosed it in his fist and stroked it roughly until a drop of semen emerged at the top. She leaned over and lapped it right up.
At the thought of her tasting him and herself mixed together, a low growl emerged from his chest. He gently pushed her back and then grabbed for their rapidly shrinking supply of condoms from the nightstand. As he tore the foil open with his teeth, he stared at the neatly trimmed triangle of black curls between her legs. “Get on your hands and knees. And brace yourself. This is going to get a little rough.”
A fine tremor worked its way through her, and then she was obeying him, rising on all fours with her ass facing him. He finished rolling the condom on and got back on the bed, kneeling behind her. After he adjusted her, pushing her upper body down so her ass was arched up and his for the taking, he couldn’t wait for any more preliminaries. He grabbed her by the hips, aligned himself, and slammed into her waiting flesh.
The civilized portion of his brain stood back aghast as the caveman took over. It was as if, denied his right to come inside his woman without barriers, he had to imprint himself on her in some other way.
He shafted her with long strokes, his balls slapping against her ass. He’d had trouble getting his cock inside earlier that night, but now she took it all the way with no trouble. Took it, and loved it.
Despite his iron grip on her hips, she still pushed back against him for more, and her cries were getting louder and faster, a sure sign she was close to coming. He noticed the mirror in front of them on the back of her closet door. He could see the ecstasy on Leyla’s face.
He paused, buried within her, and drew her up until she was flush against his body. “Mason, what are you doing? Please…”
“Look in the mirror.”
Her eyes took a second to focus, and then she trembled at the sight of her soft, slick body, so small and delicate against his larger form behind her. He slid his hands down her belly until they covered the mound of her pussy. Despite the lust pounding in his cock, he was delicate when he opened her folds to reveal her swollen clit. He pressed his lips to her ear. “Whose cock is inside of you?”
“Yours. Oh God, Mason.”
He rewarded her with a short, sharp dig of his hips. She cried out and squirmed against him, trying to get more, but he held her tight and captured her clit between his thumb and forefinger, lightly squeezing. “Who’s fucking you tonight?”
“You are.”
“That’s right. You’re mine.” He punctuated each word with another thrust. “Mine to take. Mine to have.”
“Yes! Yes, yours. Oh, Mason.”
He lowered her back to the bed and started that thunderous, pounding rhythm, unable to hear or think or say anything else. Dimly, he realized she had one orgasm and then another, and surely he was grateful, but then his balls were tightening, and he was shouting something as he came. It seemed to be never-ending, the orgasm coming from the soles of his feet and pouring inside of her.
Sometime later, he realized he was lying on his back with her curled up against him. Instantly, remorse slammed into him. “Leyla, did I hurt you?”
“Don’t be silly.”
He stared up at the slowly turning ceiling fan. “I don’t know what got into me.”
She snickered. “That’s my line.”
Mason smiled and looked down at her. “I got intense.”
His heart clenched a little when she pressed a kiss right above his heart. “I don’t mind. Just as long as you know you’re mine too.”
Veiled Desire
Chapter Twelve
Perhaps she should be shrinking from the daylight after the excesses of the night before, but she just couldn’t work up the energy. Leyla took a sip of the coffee in her hands and looked out at her backyard and the late-morning sun. Mason’s house was dark and empty.
Because Mason was sprawled naked in her bed.
She let out a little sigh of contentment and sat back against her couch. Nice thought.
“Was that wistful sigh for me?”
She glanced up to find him standing just inside the living room, studying her with a possessive gleam in his eyes. Though she’d donned a robe, she blushed, feeling as though he could see right through it.
He’d pulled on his underwear, and she was grateful, though the red cotton molding to his thighs and package didn’t exactly cover him up. His hair was all disheveled.
Because you’ve been pulling at it all night long.
His dimples flashed. “Yup. Now that I’m minty fresh, come here.”
Honestly, she could care less if he smelled of morning breath. Leaving her coffee cup on the table, she walked over to him and stepped inside the circle of his arms. His lips settled over hers and she’d never felt anything quite so right.
The night before had shown her Mason’s raunchy side, but she didn’t mind. Apparently, she had a rather earthy side as well. She’d always known she enjoyed sex, but she’d never had quite the chance to explore it like she had yesterday.
Her body was sore, but even now, with just his kiss, her nipples tightened, her sex readied. She leaned toward him and deepened the kiss.
He nibbled on her lips and then drew away. “Do you have to go to work at all?”
“Nope. I get today off. It’s always so slow the day after the holiday, Junie can handle it.”
“Mmmm. Good. What’s for breakfast?”
She gave him a winning smile. “I don’t know. What are you making?”
Mason gave her a playful swat on her behind. “You mean, after all the work I did last night, I have to cook breakfast too?”
“Yeah,” she said dryly as they started to walk to the kitchen. “I’m sure your hips are very tired. Luckily, you don’t use those to cook.”
He pushed her up against the wall outside her kitchen. “I can cook with my hips.”
“That’s cheesy, even for you.”
With a quick tug, he had the tie on her robe open. “I’ll show you cheesy.”
They were laughing, she was squirming against him, when they both heard the rattle of keys outside.
Leyla could see the knowledge and acceptance in Mason’s eyes when he realized who it was. All she really had time to do was jerk her robe together before the front door opened.
“Leyla, are you still sleeping? I’ve been calling—” Sasha stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed them.
Leyla felt a bit detached, like she was watching a frozen tableau. Sasha’s face and body were utterly still, his eyes the only thing moving. His gaze went from Mason’s undressed body to her hands holding her robe together, their closeness and intimacy obvious even to a blind man.
Her brother closed the door behind him with studied casualness. His handsome face was wiped clean of all expression. Leyla wasn’t fooled, and his tight words confirmed the undercurrent of rage firing his blood. “You son of a bitch.”
“Sash, calm down. This isn’t what it looks like.”
He barely spared her a glance. All of his attention was on his childhood friend. “How long has this been going on?”
“Not long. Man, let’s sit down and talk.” Mason was admirably calm, when she felt more than a little tense. Oh, this wasn’t how she wanted to tell her brother about them.
A glitter appeared in Sasha’s black eyes, so like her own. “You’re fucking my sister, and you want to talk?”
“Watch your mouth,” Mason said sharply. If the situation wasn’t so dire, she would have laughed at Mason rebuking her brother for his language when he’d spent the night whispering much worse into her ear.
“Outside. Now.”
“Sasha, please,” she said, impatient now. “Let’s not make this into a cliché.”
“She’s right. I’m not going to fight you over this.” Nonetheless, Mason gently pushed her to the side and seemed to brace himself.
Sasha shrugged. “Then you can just stand there and take it.” He lunged over the couple of feet separating them and slammed his fist into Mason’s face.
Leyla gave a choked little cry. Mason didn’t defend the second punch either, but he ducked the third time. “Listen to me. This isn’t what it seems.” Grabbing both of Sasha’s arms, he tried to still him. “I don’t want to hit you.”
They were both about the same height, probably evenly matched in strength. Though she knew from experience Mason could hold his own against her brother, she felt a split second of fear. Sasha trained hard to be ready for a fight on any given day, while Mason was a healer at heart. Leyla tried to intervene, rushing forward and tugging on Sasha’s shoulder. “Please, why don’t we just—”
At that moment, Sasha attempted to jerk free, and his elbow lashed up, square into her mouth. She uttered a low curse and clamped a hand over her lips, taking a step backward.
There was complete silence from both men, and then each of them had his hand on one of her arms.
“Leyla, baby, let me look at it…”
“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
Mason won the tug of war and guided her to the kitchen table. After she sat down, he pulled her hand away and examined her teeth and bloody lower lip as if she’d been mortally injured. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just bit myself. Are you okay?” His eye was going to be black and blue tomorrow, and a thin trickle of blood had emerged from his nose, but Leyla was relieved that nothing looked broken. She would have killed Sasha for messing up Mason’s pretty face.
“I’m fine.”
“Get away from her.”
Mason cast her brother a scathing glance. “I’m making sure you didn’t do any permanent damage.”
She looked up in time to catch Sasha’s chagrin. “It was an accident.”
“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have such a quick temper.”
“I walk into my sister’s house to find a man I trusted with his hands all over her, and I’m supposed to take that with a smile?”
“You’re acting like I seduced—”
“Enough!”
They swiveled to look at her, and she shook her head. “Mason, go home for a little bit. I need to talk to my brother.”
Sasha tossed him a smug look. “There you go. Go home.”
Mason studied her for a solid minute, clearly torn. She tried to smile, but she was so irritated, she wasn’t sure if she could manage it. Instead, she squeezed his hand where it rested against her face. “Really. Don’t worry about anything. Trust me.”
He slowly stood and nodded. “Put some ice on your lip.”
It took her a minute to realize why he was walking toward her back door, and then she remembered his clothes, strewn around the living room. She hid a smile, thankful Sasha hadn’t seen those. He didn’t need any further reminders of her and Mason’s cavorting.
Sasha went to the freezer and removed some ice, loading it into a plastic bag. When he returned to her, they both heard the sliding glass door closing behind Mason.
Sasha crouched down in front of her, gently placed the bag on her lip and studied her with troubled eyes. A rush of tenderness overwhelmed her for her baby brother. He was so tall and handsome, so much like their father in looks.
“This is all my fault,” he said softly. “I should never have let you live here alone.”
The tenderness flashed back into irritation. The dunderhead. “Let me?”
“Yes.” He stood and started to pace back and forth. “I knew something was up when Mason moved here. If I’d known he was going to seduce you, I would have broken both his legs then. Stupid me, I was actually happy you’d have someone I trusted to look out for you.”
“Seduce me?”
“It’s not your fault, Leyla. You probably didn’t even realize what was going on.” He cast her a pitying look. “He probably took one look at you and realized what a sweet, easy conquest you would be.”
She placed the bag of melting ice on the table. “Easy.”
“Don’t worry, Lee-Lee. You don’t ever have to see him again.”
“Sasha,” she said, her voice faint. “Can you come here? I feel a little ill.”
In a flash, he was crouched in front of her again. “I’ve got you. Do you need to—God, Leyla!”
She twisted his ear, happy to see that she hadn’t lost her touch, and then leaned in close. “Sasha Karimi, how dare you. Do I have your attention now? Good. Now listen. Ma
son did not seduce me. Or if he did, I was a completely willing partner.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s what you think.”
She twisted harder, gratified at his yelp of outrage. “No, that’s what I know. In any case, what I do with my sex life is my business, not yours.”
She released his ear and watched as he sat down and rubbed the side of his head. His jaw was obstinate. “I don’t like the thought of you having a sex life.”
Leyla couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you think all women should be virgins for life, or just me?”
He looked down at the ground. “Just you.”
“Well, that’s not very fair.”
“Mason betrayed me.”
Out of patience, she snapped. “The hell he did. He fought what he felt for me, just like I fought what I felt for him. Because of you, because we didn’t want to just hook up and hurt you. But this isn’t just a hookup, Sasha. Mason truly loves me. You should be thrilled, because you know better than anyone what a fine man he is.”
He looked up at her, his eyes sharp. “Do you love him?”
“Nuh-uh. I haven’t talked to him about that yet, so I’m certainly not going to spill all to you first. Go talk to him, please. Listen to what he has to say. Or I’ll…I’ll never forgive you.”
He paled a little at that threat, and Leyla felt a pinch of regret for making it. He needed a push though, or her hard-headed brother could easily refuse to speak to Mason until the day he died.
“Fine.” He stood.
“Don’t hit him again, or else.”
“Or else what?” he sneered over his shoulder as he walked to the living room.
“Or else I’ll give you an Indian rope burn you’ll never forget.”
Veiled Desire
Chapter Thirteen
Mason lay on his couch, ignoring the pain of his rapidly blackening eye, trying not to think of what might be going on in the house behind him.
Sasha had a way with words. Was he even now convincing Leyla to forget him, that she couldn’t possibly have any feelings for him? Was he guilting her into denying what she felt?