Page 86
Story: Sins & Secrets
Mason reaches across the bed and grips the back of my head in his hand. It’s large and strong and his fingers spear through my hair with a strength that forces my lips up to his. He crashes his own against mine and pushes my body back.
I don’t know how to describe the rush of desire that sparks to life between us. It’s like thunder and lightning all at once, right before a downpour in the middle of an open field with no shelter in sight. It’s hot and drenched between us. That’s what his kiss does to me. It’s a natural storm that I can’t stay away from.
“Mason.” I moan his name as he breaks our kiss, resting his forehead against mine and breathing heavily. His warm breath fills the small space between us, but when I look up there’s nothing but pain etched on his face. Does he not feel it like I do? If I could have anything right now, I’d have him in the field with me, letting the rain soak our skin.
Wordlessly, I reach up and trail my fingers along the stubble of his strong jaw.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers and his voice is low and carries the same agony I’m feeling. I almost tell him I know what it feels like, I almost let the tears come back, but then his lips meet mine in a soft, slow kiss that makes my heart race.
I thought I’d lost him. I thought I was going to die before that. “Just hold me,” I whimper, my voice a strangled plea.
“Always,” Mason murmurs before kissing me long and deep. My back hits the bed and my legs part for him. The tension blisters between us with a passion I thought was long gone. Its intensity refuses to be denied as I cling to him, every bit of me wanting to be pressed against him. He breaks the kiss and I have to tilt my head back to breathe in the cool air as he kisses down my body. Each one takes time, leaving a cool sensation behind as his hot kisses move on to the next spot. It’s too slow, yet it’s just right.
He takes off my clothes as he goes, slowly stripping me for him. With every moment I’m conscious of what I’m allowing him to do. Watching myself give in to baser needs and allow a man I despised to crawl down my body, holding me as if he owns me, but he does it so gently, as if I’m precious to him. I love every second of it and I know I still love him. The swarm of emotions rages, but only one wins out.
My head digs into the mattress as my neck arches and I lift my hips for him.
I may be a fool, but I know what I want and need.
He kisses just below my belly, sending goosebumps to flow across my bare skin before moving lower. I’m hot for him; my body aches for him. His heated breath causes a sweet sensation of desire to travel up my body and harden my nipples.
I let my hands slowly travel from my breasts to his hair, running my fingernails down his scalp as he pulls off the rest of my clothes and lets them drop to the floor. They fall into a crumpled heap and make the only sound that fills the room besides our breathing and the pounding of my heart.
Mason places his hands on my inner thighs and he doesn’t have to push; I immediately spread them wider for him. He stares between my legs and even though my cheeks heat with a violent blush, I can’t tear my eyes away from his as he leans forward and gently sucks on my clit.
I cry out my pleasure. It’s instant and forceful, just as Mason is.
My legs try to close together to force him away, my fingers gripping onto his muscular shoulders and nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t let up until a wave of my orgasm rises slowly through my toes and fingers. It moves higher and higher and then crashes hard, rocking through my body without any mercy. My head thrashes to the side as I cry out, and I’m only vaguely aware as Mason kisses back up my body with purposeand need this time. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting down slightly as he slams himself deep inside of me. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust. He only takes his pleasure from me as easily as he gave me my own, ruthlessly riding through my release.
He groans deep and low as he pounds into me over and over again. My body begs me to move, but I’m paralyzed by pleasure. By Mason.
It’s fitting really. I’m held beneath him with a passion I can’t fight. With a love I can’t deny. I can try to fight it, but it’s useless.
He braces himself on his forearms to look down at me, never relenting his powerful thrusts. My arousal leaks between us as he lowers his lips to mine.
The dim waves rise again through me, making my body shiver and the rest of me tense. It’s coming fast and strong and it’s inevitable, I know it is. I hold on to Mason for dear life, letting him take from me and crashing my lips into his.
MASON
She’s broken,
Shattered,
Ruined beyond repair.
The truth has destroyed her,
And left her
Choking on the air.
My mother died of an overdose.
This can’t be a coincidence.It’s all I keep thinking as I remember the syringe. I threw it into the fireplace and watched it burn, the thick plastic slowly melting and the liquid boiling into nothing, leaving only a thin needle in the ashes.
I couldn’t take it to the police. It only took an opioid test to prove what I thought. It was heroin. It’s been two days and I only have one answer to all the questions. The syringe was filled with an opioid and I imagine if the killer had done his job, I would have gone upstairs to find Jules dead of an overdose.
I readjust in my seat in the corner of the bedroom, my laptop on the nightstand I’ve pulled over to the chair. The dim light from the screen provides the only illumination in the dark room. My tumbler of whiskey sits next to it, but I can’t drink. I can’t do anything but read the report of my mother’s death and let the doubt and anxiety wash through me.
I don’t know how to describe the rush of desire that sparks to life between us. It’s like thunder and lightning all at once, right before a downpour in the middle of an open field with no shelter in sight. It’s hot and drenched between us. That’s what his kiss does to me. It’s a natural storm that I can’t stay away from.
“Mason.” I moan his name as he breaks our kiss, resting his forehead against mine and breathing heavily. His warm breath fills the small space between us, but when I look up there’s nothing but pain etched on his face. Does he not feel it like I do? If I could have anything right now, I’d have him in the field with me, letting the rain soak our skin.
Wordlessly, I reach up and trail my fingers along the stubble of his strong jaw.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers and his voice is low and carries the same agony I’m feeling. I almost tell him I know what it feels like, I almost let the tears come back, but then his lips meet mine in a soft, slow kiss that makes my heart race.
I thought I’d lost him. I thought I was going to die before that. “Just hold me,” I whimper, my voice a strangled plea.
“Always,” Mason murmurs before kissing me long and deep. My back hits the bed and my legs part for him. The tension blisters between us with a passion I thought was long gone. Its intensity refuses to be denied as I cling to him, every bit of me wanting to be pressed against him. He breaks the kiss and I have to tilt my head back to breathe in the cool air as he kisses down my body. Each one takes time, leaving a cool sensation behind as his hot kisses move on to the next spot. It’s too slow, yet it’s just right.
He takes off my clothes as he goes, slowly stripping me for him. With every moment I’m conscious of what I’m allowing him to do. Watching myself give in to baser needs and allow a man I despised to crawl down my body, holding me as if he owns me, but he does it so gently, as if I’m precious to him. I love every second of it and I know I still love him. The swarm of emotions rages, but only one wins out.
My head digs into the mattress as my neck arches and I lift my hips for him.
I may be a fool, but I know what I want and need.
He kisses just below my belly, sending goosebumps to flow across my bare skin before moving lower. I’m hot for him; my body aches for him. His heated breath causes a sweet sensation of desire to travel up my body and harden my nipples.
I let my hands slowly travel from my breasts to his hair, running my fingernails down his scalp as he pulls off the rest of my clothes and lets them drop to the floor. They fall into a crumpled heap and make the only sound that fills the room besides our breathing and the pounding of my heart.
Mason places his hands on my inner thighs and he doesn’t have to push; I immediately spread them wider for him. He stares between my legs and even though my cheeks heat with a violent blush, I can’t tear my eyes away from his as he leans forward and gently sucks on my clit.
I cry out my pleasure. It’s instant and forceful, just as Mason is.
My legs try to close together to force him away, my fingers gripping onto his muscular shoulders and nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t let up until a wave of my orgasm rises slowly through my toes and fingers. It moves higher and higher and then crashes hard, rocking through my body without any mercy. My head thrashes to the side as I cry out, and I’m only vaguely aware as Mason kisses back up my body with purposeand need this time. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting down slightly as he slams himself deep inside of me. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust. He only takes his pleasure from me as easily as he gave me my own, ruthlessly riding through my release.
He groans deep and low as he pounds into me over and over again. My body begs me to move, but I’m paralyzed by pleasure. By Mason.
It’s fitting really. I’m held beneath him with a passion I can’t fight. With a love I can’t deny. I can try to fight it, but it’s useless.
He braces himself on his forearms to look down at me, never relenting his powerful thrusts. My arousal leaks between us as he lowers his lips to mine.
The dim waves rise again through me, making my body shiver and the rest of me tense. It’s coming fast and strong and it’s inevitable, I know it is. I hold on to Mason for dear life, letting him take from me and crashing my lips into his.
MASON
She’s broken,
Shattered,
Ruined beyond repair.
The truth has destroyed her,
And left her
Choking on the air.
My mother died of an overdose.
This can’t be a coincidence.It’s all I keep thinking as I remember the syringe. I threw it into the fireplace and watched it burn, the thick plastic slowly melting and the liquid boiling into nothing, leaving only a thin needle in the ashes.
I couldn’t take it to the police. It only took an opioid test to prove what I thought. It was heroin. It’s been two days and I only have one answer to all the questions. The syringe was filled with an opioid and I imagine if the killer had done his job, I would have gone upstairs to find Jules dead of an overdose.
I readjust in my seat in the corner of the bedroom, my laptop on the nightstand I’ve pulled over to the chair. The dim light from the screen provides the only illumination in the dark room. My tumbler of whiskey sits next to it, but I can’t drink. I can’t do anything but read the report of my mother’s death and let the doubt and anxiety wash through me.
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