Little Red Hot Sauce (The Feminine Mesquite Book 5)

by Sable Sylvan

  “Maybe you’re mistaking empathy for true love,” said Savina. “Go on a dating site and look for other girls who are the youngest of five.”

  “All four of our older siblings have matched up perfectly,” said Mason. “Look at them. Look at how happy they are and tell me, tell me you don’t want that, Savina.”

  “What happened to that whole thing about not filling their shoes?” asked Savina.

  “Maybe this is what mate madness is,” said Mason. “Maybe…this is what it’s like, to be so enthralled with someone that you can’t stop yourself from contradicting yourself, just in the hopes that they’ll see what you see, that they’ll understand what you feel.”

  “Is this what our summer’s gonna be?” asked Savina. “Are we gonna go back to fighting, but this time, about whether or not I’m your fated mate?”

  “Beats pulling pranks on each other, doesn’t it?” asked Mason.

  “Fine, Mace,” said Savina. “You’re sure we’re fated mates?”

  “Absolutely,” said Mason.

  “Then let’s see if we are,” said Savina. “Let’s settle this, once and for all. If I’m not your fated mate, you need to accept it.”

  “And if you are my fated mate?” asked Mason. His bear roared at Mason. They were so close to finding out if Savina was the one, and Mason was still baiting her? There was no helping humans. Why the bear even tried to help Mason beat him.

  “That won’t happen,” promised Savina. “Let’s get this over with and move on so we can focus on making our sauce.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You’re really going to bang me?” asked Mason.

  “That’s how we do this, isn’t it?” asked Savina. “Shirt off, first. Let’s see this so-called ‘mate mark.’”

  “Your wish, my command,” said Mason. He reached back, grabbed the neck of his shirt, and pulled his shirt off, revealing his firm body to Savina.

  “That’s it?” asked Savina, motioning to Mason’s chest. She had only ever seen parts of Mason’s chest, never the full thing. She hadn’t cared to look before. He had a firm, broad torso with a set of nice pecs and shoulders that would be perfect for holding onto. On his chest was a mark, the mate mark. The mark was of a bunch of black lumpy shapes clumped together.

  “Forget the mark,” said Mason. “I don’t need that to know you’re my fated mate.”

  “Isn’t the mark supposed to give you a clue as to who your fated mate is?” asked Savina, crossing her arms.

  “Oh, look at the expert on shifters,” retorted Mason. “Are we doing this or am I going to have to woo you the old-fashioned way? Maybe bring some flowers to work? You prefer roses or tulips?”

  “Don’t you dare threaten me with flowers,” said Savina. She brushed their papers off of the table, along with their office supplies.

  “Ooh, sassy,” said Mason. “Can’t save this for the bedroom?”

  “As if it matters where we do it,” said Savina. She took off her gray shirt, exposing her plain pink bra and her curves.

  Mason didn’t give a darn about her clothing. After all, he was a shifter. He’d never seen Savina’s curves before. She was as soft as her words were harsh, her curves as tender as she was vitriolic, her form as perfect as he was imperfect in her eyes.

  “You gonna keep staring, or are we gonna do this?” asked Savina. She undid her shorts while looking at Mason and dropped them to the floor, revealing her teal panties.

  “I don’t know, are we gonna do this?” asked Mason, leaning back against the table.

  “You’re really gonna make me do this, aren’t you?” asked Savina.

  “I don’t see anyone making you do anything,” said Mason. “You could leave this room right now and forget this ever happened, find some way in your head, through mental gymnastics, to blame this on me…so why are you considering tearing my pants off right now?”

  “Are you serious?” asked Savina. “Fine. I will undress you.” Savina leaned forward and undid Mason’s button and zipper before roughly pulling his pants down, which was hard because, like her, he had an ample (albeit muscular) butt. He was also packing a curve in the front that leaned slightly to the left but poked up and made his athletic-style briefs into a mountain.

  “You’re cleaning this mess up,” Savina said as she pushed Mason back on the table. Mason sat on the sturdy table and pulled Savina close. Savina straddled Mason’s either side and moved her hand to his cock.

  “You know a handjob won’t give us the answer you want,” said Mason. “Although, I do appreciate the Southern hospitality.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” insisted Savina. She tried to pop Mason’s cock out of the fly of the briefs.

  “You’re gonna break it if you do that,” said Mason. “Trust me. It can’t get out of that small hole.”

  Savina carefully got off the table. Mason was such a smug, cocky jerk, even when he was about to get laid. He was lucky he was so frikkin’ handsome and just frustrating enough to annoy her into having sex with him. It was a sentence that only made sense when a shifter was involved.

  Savina reached for Mason’s underwear, but Mason covered his parts with one hand.

  “You sure you can handle this?” asked Mason.

  “Of course I can handle it,” said Savina. “It’s just a dick. If I can handle a dick as big as you, I can handle whatever you’re packing down there.”

  Savina pushed Mason’s hand away and pulled his underwear down.

  “This has to be a joke,” said Savina, looking at what she’d revealed.

  Big. Thick. Meaty. It looked like it belonged in a meat market, not in a man’s pants. Of course, a real sausage wouldn’t be veiny, throbbing, with a head covered in precum instead of hot sauce.

  “What big eyes you have,” said Mason.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” asked Savina, who reached out to touch the cock and give it a tug to test that it was real. “What a big cock you have. Mason, how the heck do you carry this thing around all day?”

  “Trust me, it’s heavy,” said Mason. “It takes a lot of energy to haul it around. In fact, carrying that thing makes me so tired, Savina, that I’m not sure I can muster the strength to pleasure you.”

  “Uh-huh, sure you can’t,” said Savina sarcastically.

  “Hey, you’re the one who wants to see if we’re fated mates,” said Mason. “Get to work.”

  “And how exactly do we tell?” asked Savina. “All you have to do is cum in me, right? So I might as well just jerk you off until you’re nearly ready.”

  “Not quite,” said Mason. “We have to hit a climax together, Savina. It seems your sisters didn’t fill you in on all the details, now did they?”

  “Are you kidding me?” asked Savina. “There’s no way you can make me come, Mason.”

  “Then why don’t you show me how you like it?” asked Mason.

  “Fine. If we can get this over with, then, sure,” said Savina.

  She pushed Mason back onto the table and got on top of him before sliding him into her honeypot. The cock felt even bigger than it looked but, as much as Savina hated to admit it, she was wet, and she did want it. It only hurt for a second and then, her body adapted to its size and shape. What she didn’t expect was for it to feel so heavy, so massive inside of her.

  Savina moved up and down on the cock awkwardly, not sure how to take it in a way that would please and pleasure her.

  “You having fun up there?” asked Mason, his hands behind his back. His bear roared at him for being so cocky. After all, Mason was inside Savina. He could knock the bad boy act off. If Savina dismounted and slammed her door behind her, there was no frikkin’ way Mason would get a second chance.

  “I thought you were too tired to help me,” said Savina, moving her hips up and then back down onto Mason.

  “Hey, you’re the one who decided you wanted to do this on a table,” said Mason. “I guess this is a first for you.”

  “And it’s not a first f
or you?” asked Savina.

  Mason shook his head while smirking. Savina wanted to smack the smug grin off his face.

  “Fine, if you’re the expert, show me what I should be doing,” demanded Savina. She stopped moving and had her arms crossed over her bosom, but kept Mason’s shaft inside her.

  “First off, bring those hands down,” ordered Mason, pulling Savina’s arms down. “Put one here…and one here.” Mason placed one of Savina’s hands over his right shoulder and the other by his left arm. He reached up with his left arm to hold onto Savina’s right arm. This left Savina’s face close to Mason’s face…very close, in fact.

  “And now what?” asked Savina. She felt something inside of her melting.

  “Now, move your hips like…this,” said Mason, using his right hand to push and pull Savina’s hips up and down in a circle. “Tighten your thighs when you pull away and loosen them when you lean in.”

  “Like…like this?” asked Savina, following Mace’s directions.

  “No, no, no,” whispered Mace. He saw something in Savina’s eyes, heard something in the softening of her voice. Was the firebrand showing a hint of vulnerability? Mace used his hands to lead Savina’s hips up and down and back and forth.

  Savina had never had sex like this before. Of course she’d had it before. She’d finished her freshman year of college, after all. However, none of the drunk frat boys or art students at her college knew about how to do things like this before. They’d all talked a big game but none had satisfied her. Even though Savina was on top of Mace, it was obvious Mace was the one riding her. He thrust his hips up from below and pulled her closer with his left arm, his hand on her shoulder, his other hand on her hips.

  With every pull toward Mace, she could scent him. She could smell the same scent she’d smelled that day in New Orleans. It was a primal scent that was foreign and familiar because as much as she hated to admit it, Mace was familiar. They’d spent the summer together, working mere yards from each other at all times, and now, the space between them was closing. With every thrust, she felt his firm hands on her hips, his rough shifter pads rubbing against her tender tanned skin. With every pull, she could feel her cheek brush his cheek, hers tender, his bristled with a five-o-clock shadow.

  She felt something else against her cheeks, something that she tried not to stare at too often when he was trying their sauce or arguing with her. She felt the softness of his lips grazing her skin, whispering sweet nothings she couldn’t understand, in what she assumed must be Norwegian, punctuated with gasps and soft moans. Those sounds were the undeniable sign that Mace was enjoying this as much as she was, because, while busy listening to the sounds Mace was making, she had started to make those same sounds.

  “How’s this?” asked Mason.

  “I’m close,” admitted Savina.

  “What can push you over the edge?” asked Mason.

  “I…I need more,” said Savina. “Harder. Faster.”

  “That I can arrange,” said Mason. He moved his arms so that one was wrapped around Savina’s waist, the other, supporting her hips. Then he stood, holding her up, still balanced on his shaft.

  Savina instinctually wrapped her legs around Mason’s waist.

  “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” hissed Savina, wrapping her arms around Mason’s torso.

  “You want harder, faster, I can give you that, but not here,” said Mason. He walked them to the door to his room and opened the door, holding Savina up on his torso before putting her down, hard, on his bed.

  “Ouch,” said Savina.

  “I thought you wanted harder,” said Mason, lying above Savina.

  “Not like that,” said Savina.

  “Oh, you were expecting something more like…this?” asked Mason, pulling out and thrusting back into Savina. Savina clenched her legs around Mason.

  “Yes, something like that,” said Savina.

  “Then hold on, because there’s a lot more where that came from,” said Mason.

  “Prove it,” said Savina.

  That’s all Mason needed to hear. Savina looked so sweet, so innocent, at least, until one got to know her. He’d always known she had an inner fire. The only question was, could he tame it, or would it engulf him?

  Mason slammed into Savina, hard, and Savina felt him entering her to the hilt.

  “Where the heck did that come from?” asked Savina.

  “Too much for you to handle?” asked Mason.

  “No,” said Savina. “Unlike these curves. They’re too much for a man like you.”

  “I’m a daredevil. I’ll ride anything, anywhere, and right now, I’m riding you,” said Mason. “I can handle your curves, Savina. I’ve handled more dangerous curves before.”

  “Oh yeah?” asked Savina.

  “That was a lie,” said Mason. “Your curves might be the death of me.”

  Mason slammed back into Savina and felt up her every last curve while pummeling her with his cock, hard. Savina wanted hard, and by the feeling of her petals opening up even further, her nectar supply increasing, she needed it hard as well. Mason pressed his hands onto Savina’s hips, taking handfuls of her flesh the way he’d take a new steering wheel into his hands. At first, he appreciated the texture, the novel feeling of his new toy, but then, he’d grab the controls hard and take it for a ride.

  Savina had never seen Mace like this before. He was really in his element. All summer, she’d seen him cool and collected. When he’d piloted the helicopter, he hadn’t taken any risks. This was something different. Savina felt like she was in a race car going a hundred miles an hour, her soft curves crashing into Mace’s rock hard body over and over like a crash test dummy hitting a wall.

  “You’re close,” said Mace. “Admit it.”

  “Trust me, you have no idea what I need in order to finish,” said Savina.

  “I think I do,” said Mason.

  Mace pulled Savina’s face close. Their lips crashed together like two waves meeting in the ocean. Savina and Mace were both riding that wave of pleasure, and when the riptide hit, the two surfers were pulled down under, left gasping for air while drowning on the sweet nectar that was each other’s bodies.

  Savina bucked her hips up, and Mace caught them in his hands. Savina reached up, touching Mace’s still crimson hair, and moving her forehead to touch his while she took a breath of air before she pressed her lips back to his again, hard. This time, the kiss went deeper. They’d only been riding the waves, not exploring the depths.

  Savina felt Mace’s tongue enter her mouth and she explored his in kind. She kept her eyes closed, and as she felt her mouth open to take in Mace’s tongue, she felt the ball of pleasure that was growing inside of her burst and let loose her sexual energy.

  Savina had never felt this kind of sexual ecstasy before. She’d played with herself, of course, but she’d never come with another person…but Mace wasn’t just any person. He was a shifter.

  Mason’s bear roared. There was no mistaking what Savina’s body was telling Mason. Her petals had unfolded, taking him all the way in, pulling on him, milking him. Savina had taken in a sharp breath, and when she finally said his name, whispering it, right in his ear, he held on tightly to her curves as he too reached his climax.

  As Savina and Mace came, Mason’s mark started to change.

  The black marks started to glow bright red, and suddenly, the redness grew, moving upwards on Mason’s chest, where the coloring turned orange and then yellow, in swirling patterns. Savina couldn’t help but reach up and touch it. Was this really happening? Was the mark on Mason’s chest really changing?

  The bright, warm light filled the space between Mason and Savina, met with the cold blue light that came out of Mason’s eyes. For a split second, Savina thought she could feel the chill of a Nordic wind and hear the roar of a bear.

  Mason’s bear had roared, inside of his soul. The bear had known all along that there was no way that anyone but a firebrand like Savina could be a m
atch for his hot-tempered human host, and now, there was no denying that Savina was the very match that Mason had been looking for his entire life. There was no way that Savina could deny it either.

  As the swirling flames that were spreading on Mason’s chest changed, Savina was mesmerized. She hadn’t thought that this would happen. This was the last thing she’d hoped would happen, but something inside of her was telling her that she had to keep watching.

  The flames slowed and stayed in place as the glow dissipated, back into the black coals, which were still black but were now encircled by halos of warm red. Once the coals had been lit, they could not be unlit.

  “I guess you really light my fire,” said Mason.

  “No,” whispered Savina, as Mason pulled out and lay next to her. “Mason…there has to be a mistake.”

  “No mistake,” said Mason. “You and I are fated mates. Told ya so. Now, the only question is, who are we gonna tell first?”

  “Who are we gonna tell? Mason, we can’t tell anyone. We’re going to ruin the wedding if we do that. We can’t steal their thunder. We just have to keep this a secret,” insisted Savina. She started to cry, hot tears streaming down her face.

  “But Savina…you’re my fated mate,” insisted Mason, turning to face Savina. Seeing her tears confused him. How could she not want this? How could she not understand that they were meant to be? Regardless, he wiped her tears with his sheets. Obviously, she had a lot on her mind.

  Mason got out of bed and went down on one knee. His bear roared. A proposal could solve anything.

  “Savina Quincy, I know that we haven’t even gone on a date, but you saw what happened to my mark. You’re my fated mate, and I’ve had suspicions of that for quite some time,” said Mason. “I want more than just Fate to know it. I want to shout it from the rooftops, tell the world. I don’t have a ring right now, but I can promise you that I’ll do whatever you ask of me if you accept my proposal of marriage. Savina Quincy…you’re my fated mate, but will you become my fiancée?”