Page 90 of Risk
“Challenge accepted.”
With a wicked grin, he stuffs the panties into my mouth.
He unbuckles his belt, yanking it free from the loops in one swift, hard pull. The sound makes me wetter. Mason grips my throat and pushes his big cock inside me in one thrust. “Fuuuuck, how are you so goddamn wet?”
Easy. I’m with him.
With one leg wrapped around his hip, the other barely touching the floor, I hang onto his shoulders while Mason lifts me off the ground with every thrust.
I know we’re supposed to behave tonight, but I want everyone to hear us. See us.
Envy us.
“I want to fill you up. I want my cum dripping out of you all night.” His speed picks up. The friction is amazing. Add to that the roar of people mingling on the other side of the door, the thrill of being caught, and my orgasm blasts out of me. I spit the lace out of my mouth and scream his name.
He slams me against the door, his pace quickening. “Fuck, woman. Say it again.”
“Make me.”
My man’s eyes blow wide, and I have about one-point-two seconds to brace myself before he bites down on my neck, right on my hotspot. “Oh god, Mason!” My pussy clamps down on him immediately.
“That’s my good girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.” His thrusts deepen and body heat radiates through his tux. “Fuuuuuck.” His cock pulses when he comes.
I’d give anything to have this on camera—the way he looks, how he sounds.
Too bad that can’t happen.
Once he’s spent, Mason lowers me to the ground and presses his head against mine. “Holy shit, my heart’s beating so fast.”
“Mine too.”
He picks up my ruined panties that I’d spit onto the floor and puts them in his pocket, not bothering to scold me for taking them out of my mouth earlier.
“Ready?” He’s back to being the Mason I know, instead of the intense, detached version I feared he was turning into outside.
“Yup.”
Fluffing my gown, I follow him out of the closet, and we join the rest of the crowd for cocktails. He introduces me to a bunch of people, but their names go in one ear and out the other. He keeps up with polite conversation even as he scans the room constantly.
Who is he looking for?
“There she is!” A familiar voice chimes from the bar.
Landon swaggers over to us with amber liquid in his glass. “Damn, woman, you are looking good tonight.”
“She looks good every night, asshole,” Mason grumbles.
“Forgive me. Mason’s right.” Landon kisses my hand. “But you look exceptionally good tonight.” He spins me around. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was trying to get people to look at us.
“Stop being an attention whore,” Gage growls, walking over with a hand in his pocket. He claps Mason on the back in greeting before grabbing my hand and kissing it. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Leah.”
Mason looks even more relaxed now. “Where’s Kerrington?”
“He’s here somewhere.” Landon looks around. “I swear I’m gonna put a leash on him. He gets distracted too easily. Ohh! Bacon-wrapped scallops.” He walks off.
Another man shows up to the party. “How dare you show your face here.”
Who I can only assume is Mason’s brother, Jackson, storms over to us. He’s a slimmer, shorter version of Mason, but with lighter hair and a different shaped mouth.