MASON (Billionaire Bastards, Book One)

by Ivy Carter

  His voice goes quiet. “Mrs. Kratky taught me a few kitchen tricks.”

  A lump forms in the back of my throat at the mention of his former teacher’s name. I recognize it from the headlines—she was caught in the crossfire of the shooter who riddled that small Maine classroom with bullets, killing everyone except Mason, Lucas, and Holden. From reading the interviews, I know how important Mrs. Kratky was to him. Almost like a surrogate mother.

  I absently swirl my wine. “Mrs. Kratky sounds like a great lady.”

  Mason dumps cheese into the pan. “She was. The best, actually.”

  The somber tone of his voice tugs on my heartstrings. “I’m sorry.”

  “You never forget something like that.” He cuts the omelet in half with a spatula and slides them on two separate plates. “The visions are still so vivid. Like a nightmare playing on a constant loop.” His voice catches a little. “It’s hard to talk about with anyone except Lucas and Holden…which is maybe why they come off a little possessive.”

  “Of course that makes sense,” I say, feeling a twinge of guilt for my temper tantrum in Hawaii. I can’t begin to imagine the grief that still haunts them. I cover Mason’s hand with mine. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

  He grimaces. “That’s not what my therapist would have said.”

  I shovel a mouthful of egg into my mouth, chewing slowly.

  “Turns out, she didn’t really have answers either,” he says, and then takes a bite of his omelet. A ghost of a grin crosses his handsome features. “Shit. This isn’t bad.”

  As we finish our meal, Mason shares some of his memories about Mrs. Kratky, and with each story, the ice around my heart continues to melt. I’m touched that he’s opening up to me, but more than that, that he’s allowed me to see this side of him.

  He swallows his last bite and pushes his plate aside. “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Plenty,” I say, and then rub my stomach. “Completely satisfied.”

  Mason quirks an eyebrow, deftly shifting the tone of our conversation. “Excellent,” he says, standing. He holds out his hand. “I’m still hungry.” His eyes darken with lust and burn into my skin. A shiver rolls along my back. “Starved, actually. And I know exactly how I want to satiate my appetite.”

  Chapter 17

  Mason scoops me into his arms and carries me down the hall. I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him like I might fall. But the truth is, I’ve already fallen. His muscles tighten under my pliant body.

  A nervous flutter hovers around my heart. “I’m too heavy for this.”

  “You’re perfect,” he says.

  It’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to stop from crying. When I open them, Mason’s eyes search my face and I lick my lips, giving him the permission I know he hasn’t asked for.

  His strides are urgent, and when we approach the bedroom, we’re almost sprinting. He half tosses me on the bed and then straddles me, pinning my wrists to the mattress. My breath comes in short gasps, vibrating with anticipation.

  Jesus fuck. It’s ridiculous how much I want this man.

  Mason leans close, runs his tongue along the curve of my throat, and then flicks the sensitive flesh at the tip of my earlobe. My body yields to his touch. I melt into the mattress, enjoying this way more than anyone should. I pretend that I’m the only woman he’s ever touched.

  “I was going to make you strip for me,” he says, pawing at my blouse. “But I’m not a patient man.” The buttons open and Mason stares at my chest, licking his lips like an animal poised to devour his prey.

  My heartbeat stutters.

  He slides his thumb under my bra and grazes the tip of my fully erect nipple. It always amazes me how responsive my body is to his touch, the way his fingers seem to awaken a side of me I never realized existed.

  Never knew I wanted to explore.

  Sex wasn’t something I thought of before I met Mason. Now, it’s all that’s on my mind. I want him to take my virginity, to control me, to make me feel things I’ve never before wanted to feel.

  “You have the most beautiful nipples,” he says. He moves his mouth in close and gently pushes my bra aside with his teeth to reveal the swell of my breast. His tongue flicks across my skin. The heat from his breath is cooled when he blows on my nipple, making it impossibly harder.

  His lips move from between my breasts to my stomach, where his tongue circles my belly button once, and then again, before plunging just under the waistband of my skirt. I suck in my stomach, allowing more access, but he doesn’t go any further. Instead, he presses his mouth up against my crotch, breathing on my pussy through my clothes. I writhe under the pressure, desperate to feel his wet lips on my skin.

  “I can smell you,” he says, his voice a low drawl of lust.

  My toes curl. My clit throbs. Fuck me, I’m on the verge of begging.

  Slow down, Liv.

  I’m so tired of following the rules. I’ve always been the good girl—the virgin, the scholastic, the responsible. But inch by inch, Mason is drawing me out of my bubble, and awakening newfound desires. I’m a bad girl, itching to be let loose.

  “Taste me,” I say, with brazen confidence.

  With expert hands, Mason slides my skirt over my hips. I arch to give him better access, and he gently removes my panties, drawing them to his nose before tossing them over his shoulder onto the floor. His mouth twists into a smirk. “You’re wet, Liv.”

  Soaked, actually.

  Our chemistry is undeniable, but I’m still surprised by the ease with which he can turn me on—a whispered compliment, a featherlike touch, a smoldering glance with those ocean blue eyes. Simply being in the same room with Mason makes me feel sexy. Alive.

  “I’m going to eat you,” he says.

  His voice is all low and throaty and Christ, I’m turned on. “God, yes.”

  The way Mason stares at my crotch, licking his lips, makes me feel like he’s staring at the Mona Lisa. The intimacy of it catches me off guard. My body trembles.

  Mason grabs my ankles and smoothly flips me on to my stomach. My cheeks press into the mattress, and I brace myself for the impending smack on my buttocks. But he doesn’t spank me. He lifts my hips a little so that I’m on my knees, head burrowed into a stack of pillows, and plunges his tongue between my thighs. It slides through my moist slit, and then halfway up the crack of my ass. He nibbles on each butt cheek before diving back between my legs. With one hand on the bed for balance, he rests the other on my butt, his thumb hovering close to my anus while his tongue circles my clit.

  The tight flutter of anticipation beats against my ribcage.

  His thumb presses firmer against me, a shallow entry that is enough to make me buck with surprise. His mouth comes off my pussy for a brief moment while he repositions. He licks, sucks, manipulates my tight clit with his tongue, all with my ass lifted in the air, and his thumb teasing with increasing pressure.

  My climax begins to build.

  Mason removes his hand from my ass and slides it between my thighs, prying my legs further apart. Gently, he rolls me onto my back. As he stands over me, I’m aware of his hard cock, probing through his pants.

  “Are you feeling adventurous?” he says, a smirk playing on his perfect mouth. I nod, speechless. With a grin, he walks to his dresser and removes four scarves from the top drawer. “I’m going to tie you up, Olivia.”

  The scarves are made of silk, and soft, even when he pulls them tight around my wrists and ankles, fastening them to the bedposts. I am sprawled out like a starfish, naked and covered with goose pimples.

  Desire sweeps across my flesh.

  I shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be so excited by his unspoken promise of naughty, dirty, dangerous acts. But God help me, I am. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

  Mason massages my breasts, lightly flicking each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He pinches. I gasp. “Does that feel good, baby?�
��

  My response is an indecipherable moan.

  I close my eyes and feel his teeth grazing across my nipple. My eyes fly open and I cry out.

  “I want you looking at me, at all times,” Mason says, gruff. “Do you understand?”

  The tone of his voice is a stark reminder of his control, and my breath catches somewhere at the back of my throat. “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Louder,” he says.

  “Yes, Mr. Wood,” I say, gasping.

  He releases his grip and rewards my submission with a gentle suckling on my tender nipples. I’m addicted to the push and pull of it, his punishment and control alternating with erotic intimacy.

  Reaching between my legs, Mason inserts two fingers into my pussy. I clench, but with my legs spread wide, I’m unable to ease the entry, and he thrusts deep enough that I feel a flutter in my pelvis. While his fingers work inside me, his mouth continues to trail down my body, biting, nipping, licking, drawing closer to my crotch. When at last his tongue darts over my clit, I writhe beneath my restraints, desperate to touch him. I’m dying to pull his head closer to my throbbing cleft.

  I lift my neck, watching as his head bobs between my legs, working in tandem with his fingers. They probe as if exploring sacred territory, igniting a fire throughout my core. I grit my teeth, fighting the rising tide of pleasure that builds from my groin.

  But just before I release, Mason abruptly withdraws his fingers, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and gives me a devilish grin. “Not yet, sweet Olivia. I’m only just getting started.”

  He devours every inch of me with his eyes. “I’m going to fuck you.”

  “Yes,” I say, breathless. I’m precariously close to begging, but beneath the anticipation is another feeling—a sense of fear. It doesn’t feel right to tell him I’m a virgin, that his cock will be the first to slide inside of me. Not when I’ve been dreaming about this moment, fantasizing about him, since our first encounter in the elevator.

  He’d frightened me then—bold, commanding, intimidating.

  The fear that grips me now is knowing how far my feelings have already come. After tonight, there’s no going back for me. And damn it, if I’m not ready to take this next step, positive that Mason is the man I want to give this gift to.

  He strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. With his eyes fixed on my mouth, he unzips his pants. At the rustle of them sliding over his hips, I drop my gaze.

  His cock is hard and thick, swollen with lust.

  “Untie me,” I say, aching to touch him.

  Mason shakes his head and finishes undressing before climbing onto the bed. His body hovers over me, erect penis poised like a piston. His body is crushing, hot, remarkably toned. My voice is a strangled plea. “You’re killing me.”

  He shifts so that he’s on his elbow and brushes my hair off my shoulder. I crane my neck, allowing his mouth access to my ear lobe. When at last, his lips find mine, he parts them with his tongue. Our kiss deepens, becoming more frantic and desperate. I can taste my musk on his lips and it makes my pulse thrum.

  “I want to explore every inch of you, Olivia,” he says.

  Even the way he says my name—full and strong—sets my desire on fire. My heart picks up speed, a full-on gallop.

  His mouth trails along my jaw, and down the slope of my neck. He nips at my shoulder blades, works his tongue between my breasts. His breath is hot, the air cool. Every nerve ending in my body sizzles like it’s on fire.

  I begin to pant. “Mason, please…”

  I’m beginning to unravel, his torture so exquisite and sweet, that it’s almost my undoing.

  My hips lift, arching against my restraints. I’m so hot that even the slightest brush against my pussy will bring me to orgasm.

  Mason slips on a condom with such subtly I almost miss it.

  He dips his face between my legs once more, circling my clit with his tongue. My juices slide between my thighs and he licks them clean. I am impossibly wet. “You have the most beautiful pussy, sweet Liv.”

  The compliment empowers me. I lift my hips to his face, daring him to take more. To swallow every last drop.

  My orgasm starts to build again but I force it back, drawing out the pleasure for as long as I can. I don’t want this to end. His tongue plunges into my pussy, pulls out, dives in. My fingernails dig into the scarves as devours me, curling the silk so tightly my knuckles go white. My clit pulsates.

  I start gasping for breath.

  If he doesn’t slow down, he’ll make me come.

  Mason inserts two fingers inside me and I cry out in shock. His sucks on me as he fingers me, the crescendo raising with intensity that claws at my skin. My pelvis bucks under his mouth, driving his digits further into my cleft. He picks up speed and without warning, my release shudders over me in a seismic tidal wave. I come hard, panting and screaming until my voice gives out. Mason sucks until my juices run dry.

  When he finally pulls away, I gasp. My head spins with pleasure and I am breathless, weightless, floating on air.

  “Jesus, Mason.”

  “That was just the beginning,” he says.

  I am instantly wet again.

  Slowly he begins to untie me, kissing each wrist and ankle as he peels off the silk. I’m so anxious to feel his body against me that I pull him down against me and grind my pelvis into his.

  His hard cock nestles against my pussy. I part my lips, inviting his tongue, and he kisses me passionately. My heart is a jackhammer on crack.

  He spreads my legs apart and suddenly, he is inside me, thrusting his cock into my cleft with a powerful push. The pain is intense, a stinging sensation that brings tears to my eyes. I blink them back, and begin to grind my hips. I gasp as he goes deeper—sweet Jesus, he’s fucking huge. I’m afraid he’ll split me in half.

  “You’re so tight,” he grunts. And then again with a second thrust. “So God damned tight.”

  I clench my pussy around him and he lets out a low groan. With steady rhythm, he pulls out, dives in, slowly increasing speed until he drives into me with deep thrusts that knock the breath from my chest. I’m panting, moaning, biting into my lip to stop from screaming like a damn banshee. “Harder,” I breathe.

  I can’t believe it’s finally happened.

  My first time, and after the initial burst of pain, it feels incredible.

  His eyes cloud with desire and he plunges deep, fucking me like a man consumed. My vision goes fuzzy. I can’t think, I can’t breathe.

  Nothing has ever made me feel so good and I never want it to stop.

  Who knew sex could feel this amazing?

  I dig my nails into his back, biting at his skin with a fervor that startles me. He grits his teeth and grabs my hips, pounding harder and harder until it’s as though our bodies merge into one. His cock fills and consumes me, and I willingly give in.

  “Fuck, Liv,” he says, and the sound of my name on his lips brings another orgasm dangerously close. “Come,” he growls.

  Pleasure descends on me with alarming suddenness. One second the wild tension is building, and the next, I’m spasming around Mason’s penis, gasping for breath. My orgasm seems to intensify his desperation.

  He grips me by the hips with his strong hands, while his penis hammers against me. I can tell the instant he reaches peak. His fingers flex and he releases a guttural roar that burrows deep in my chest.

  Chapter 18

  Mason curls me into the crook of his shoulder, and wraps his arm around me. His fingertips dance along the side of my hip. I place my hand flat against his chest.

  “You didn’t warn me,” he says, gently.

  My heart beat picks up speed. “I was embarrassed.”

  The remnants of my lost virginity have marked his bedding, but this is the first Mason has spoken of it. Part of me hoped he’d just sweep it under the carpet, giving me no reason to explain why I’ve waited so long to be with a man like this.

  Isn’t it enough to say that I’ve
never met anyone special enough?

  No, because it’s only part of the reason, and if Mason is even half as intuitive as I think, he’ll see straight through my efforts at avoidance.

  Mason kisses the top of my head. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  I chew on my lower lip, debating on how much I want to share. “I had a serous boyfriend in college. We met freshman year.”

  I close my eyes, picturing that moment, a clichéd “bumping into each other in the hall way” scene, in which his classic “let me carry your textbooks” offer immediately made us an item. We held hands, and sometimes kissed, and one night—before the hot tub fiasco that finally broke us up—he performed clumsy oral sex that resulted in me faking an orgasm just to get him to stop slobbering all over me.

  “I wasn’t ready for sex,” I say, which only half the truth. Maybe if Jared had taken more time with my body, gotten to know my likes and needs…no. Not even then. If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t think I’d ever want sex, let alone crave it with the intensity I feel now.

  After two earth shattering climaxes, I know it would take almost nothing for Mason to bring me to full arousal again. The realization is shocking.

  Mason’s fingertips dance across my shoulder. “I bet you were quite the tease in college.”

  My cheeks go warm. “Not intentionally.”

  More like a knee-jerk reaction to my father’s affair. “My dad had infidelity issues.” Which is a massive understatement. “I’ll spare you the gory details, but as it turns out, he had this whole other family on the side. A mistress. A kid.” I swallow in an attempt to dislodge the bitter memories. “He was even living with them part time. Like, he took turns, telling each family that he had to go out of town for work. Quite a masterful storyteller.”

  Mom wasn’t the only naïve one—the other woman believed his lies too—but when it came to making a choice, Dad left us. He chose his mistress. His other daughter.

  Mason shifts on his side so we’re face to face. “That would have been a lot to handle for anyone.”