difficult to see his cock in its entirety.
She wanted to get him in the light, in her bed, so she could look her fill. Hers. Her man.
Mason’s hand clamped over her knee when she shifted. “Stop squirming—it’s killing me. We’ll be home in just a minute.” His fingers started stroking though, making it very difficult not to squirm.
They were speeding, she realized, and she hoped that no police officer would stop them. One, because it would be a delay, and two, because beyond the fact that Mason’s pants were still unzipped, they were both obviously on their way to a tryst.
The rest of the ride passed without incident though, and soon they were turning into her driveway. Mason turned off the car and they sat, for a second, in the darkness.
“I’ll give you two minutes for a head start,” he said softly, and she heard the hiss of his zipper coming up. “After I catch you, you’re going to be busy all night.”
A shiver of excitement worked its way down her spine and she grabbed her little clutch. She groped for her keys even as she walked as fast as her heels would allow her to her front door.
It took a solid minute for her to fit the key into the door with her shaking hands. She heard the slight ding of his car door opening behind her, and she fell inside with a muffled laugh as he slammed it. She only got to the darkened living room inside her cramped home when she heard his footsteps. Turning to face him, she tried to look put out instead of excited. “That wasn’t two minutes.”
“Oops.” A slow smile stretched across his face, and the moonlight coming in through the sliding glass doors turned his hair to silver. His pants were zipped, but unbuttoned and unbelted. “Couldn’t wait. Take your clothes off.”
Normally, she wouldn’t let a man’s autocratic behavior pass without some comment, but she found that in this sexual situation, his dominance turned her on. He was so relaxed and laid-back usually that this flip side, this evidence that he wanted her so badly that he couldn’t manage casualness, only made her wetter.
Drawing out the moment, she slipped her cardigan off and turned her back to him. She drew her hair over her shoulder. “Can you get my zipper?” she asked, striving for innocence, but unable to keep the laughter out of her tone.
Leyla was a bit disappointed when he only touched her enough to lower the zipper. Before facing him again, she released the dress. It fell to her hips and hung there for a minute before she did a quick hip bump and allowed it to slip to the floor.
He hissed something when she turned around, and she wasn’t sure if it was a swear or a prayer. Though the lights were out, she knew the moon was full enough for him to see every inch of her skin. When she looked down, her skin was covered in an otherworldly blue glow.
His gaze touched her everywhere. He walked around her in a slow circle, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he stood in front of her, he was only wearing his boxer-briefs. Red, she realized with a smile. “We match.”
He glanced down at her cherry-colored thong and grinned back. “In more ways than one.” Then he sobered and studied her body. “You are so beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”
She flushed with pleasure. Leyla had never particularly thought of herself as beautiful, but she was suddenly glad for the few hours a week she spent exercising, if only because it put that look in Mason’s eyes. “Thanks.”
“It’s true.”
She quirked a brow at his insistence. “I don’t have a self-esteem problem.”
“You kept your sweater on all night. You didn’t need to.”
She fought the smile so he wouldn’t think she was laughing at him. “I’m not entirely comfortable baring it all in public. That’s all. The skirt was daring enough for me tonight.”
“You seem comfortable baring everything with me.” Mason brushed his fingers over the strings of her thong at her hips and pushed the fabric
She wanted to get him in the light, in her bed, so she could look her fill. Hers. Her man.
Mason’s hand clamped over her knee when she shifted. “Stop squirming—it’s killing me. We’ll be home in just a minute.” His fingers started stroking though, making it very difficult not to squirm.
They were speeding, she realized, and she hoped that no police officer would stop them. One, because it would be a delay, and two, because beyond the fact that Mason’s pants were still unzipped, they were both obviously on their way to a tryst.
The rest of the ride passed without incident though, and soon they were turning into her driveway. Mason turned off the car and they sat, for a second, in the darkness.
“I’ll give you two minutes for a head start,” he said softly, and she heard the hiss of his zipper coming up. “After I catch you, you’re going to be busy all night.”
A shiver of excitement worked its way down her spine and she grabbed her little clutch. She groped for her keys even as she walked as fast as her heels would allow her to her front door.
It took a solid minute for her to fit the key into the door with her shaking hands. She heard the slight ding of his car door opening behind her, and she fell inside with a muffled laugh as he slammed it. She only got to the darkened living room inside her cramped home when she heard his footsteps. Turning to face him, she tried to look put out instead of excited. “That wasn’t two minutes.”
“Oops.” A slow smile stretched across his face, and the moonlight coming in through the sliding glass doors turned his hair to silver. His pants were zipped, but unbuttoned and unbelted. “Couldn’t wait. Take your clothes off.”
Normally, she wouldn’t let a man’s autocratic behavior pass without some comment, but she found that in this sexual situation, his dominance turned her on. He was so relaxed and laid-back usually that this flip side, this evidence that he wanted her so badly that he couldn’t manage casualness, only made her wetter.
Drawing out the moment, she slipped her cardigan off and turned her back to him. She drew her hair over her shoulder. “Can you get my zipper?” she asked, striving for innocence, but unable to keep the laughter out of her tone.
Leyla was a bit disappointed when he only touched her enough to lower the zipper. Before facing him again, she released the dress. It fell to her hips and hung there for a minute before she did a quick hip bump and allowed it to slip to the floor.
He hissed something when she turned around, and she wasn’t sure if it was a swear or a prayer. Though the lights were out, she knew the moon was full enough for him to see every inch of her skin. When she looked down, her skin was covered in an otherworldly blue glow.
His gaze touched her everywhere. He walked around her in a slow circle, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he stood in front of her, he was only wearing his boxer-briefs. Red, she realized with a smile. “We match.”
He glanced down at her cherry-colored thong and grinned back. “In more ways than one.” Then he sobered and studied her body. “You are so beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”
She flushed with pleasure. Leyla had never particularly thought of herself as beautiful, but she was suddenly glad for the few hours a week she spent exercising, if only because it put that look in Mason’s eyes. “Thanks.”
“It’s true.”
She quirked a brow at his insistence. “I don’t have a self-esteem problem.”
“You kept your sweater on all night. You didn’t need to.”
She fought the smile so he wouldn’t think she was laughing at him. “I’m not entirely comfortable baring it all in public. That’s all. The skirt was daring enough for me tonight.”
“You seem comfortable baring everything with me.” Mason brushed his fingers over the strings of her thong at her hips and pushed the fabric
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