Page 8 of Ghost (Cerberus Personal Security #1)

“Sex with a stranger?”

“Sex with a savior,” I correct. “You have no idea what that meant to me.”

“It wasn’t too—rough?” He looks down at me, his eyes searching mine, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“No.”

“Seems like you enjoyed it.”

“It was perfect and amazing. I’m still tingling, and no, it wasn’t too rough.”

“Duly noted.” His arms tighten around me, holding me closer, his body a haven of safety and comfort. As we lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us, lost in our private sanctuary.

He presses another kiss to the top of my head, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

“If you say so.” I roll over and stare deeply into his eyes. “You’re the one in charge.”

“Is that so?”

“I hope so.” How do I explain to this man, this stranger, how his natural dominance feeds a need deep within me? How do I explain it to myself when it’s brought so much pain?

Sleep proves elusive, however .

Each time one of us shifts, sparks reignite.

His hands find me in the darkness, claiming me again with the same desperate need.

He covers me with his body, pinning my wrists above my head.

The position makes me feel deliciously vulnerable and completely at his mercy.

His other hand traces down my side, grip possessive.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, voice rough with desire. His eyes search mine, gauging my reaction. “Being restrained? At my mercy?” His eyes, fierce and hungry, lock onto mine, gauging my reaction.

“Not going to lie.” What other answer can I give him when he’s tapping into my deepest fantasies?

I’m trapped, helpless, at his mercy. A thrill of pleasure and fear courses through me, but there’s no trace of the old terror I used to feel with Steffan.

I let out a shuddering breath, unable to speak, but my body arches into his touch, betraying my need. He leans down, his mouth next to my ear, his voice a low rumble.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Take my time. Make you scream. Make you beg.” His grip tightens on my wrists as he claims my mouth in a bruising kiss.

His hand leaves my wrists, trailing down my side, gripping my hip with bruising force. I keep my hands over my head, locked where he left them. He shifts, settling between my thighs, his hardness pressing insistently against me. His gaze locks onto mine, dominant and possessive.

His hand slides up to my throat, wrapping around it gently, a promise of control.

“Is that too much?”

I arch into his touch, begging for him to tighten his grip.

“Fuck, look at what you do to me. You bring out the beast within me.”

I whimper, a sound caught between pleasure and protest, but my body betrays me, my hips lifting to grind against his. He smirks, a satisfied and dangerous expression.

“You really like that, don’t you?” he murmurs, his hand tightening slightly around my throat. “Yeah, you love that.”

I can’t speak, can’t even nod, but my eyes flutter closed, my body quivering with need. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a brutal kiss, his teeth nipping at my lips.

“That’s what I thought,” he growls against my mouth.

Suddenly, he flips me onto my stomach, his strong hands gripping my hips, pulling me up onto my knees. He presses one hand firmly between my shoulder blades, pushing me into the mattress, forcing me to arch my back, presenting myself to him completely.

My breath hitches, and I push back against him, silently begging for more.

With Steffan, sex was always about fear and pain, about submission through terror. With Mason, it’s about surrender and exquisite pleasure, about submission through trust and desire.

He positions himself at my entrance, and with one powerful thrust, he enters me, stealing my breath away. Each stroke is hard and deep, claiming me, owning me, driving away every memory of Steffan, every moment of fear and pain.

“ Fuuuuuuck , you feel so fucking good.” His voice rasps rough with desire.

He leans over me, his hand still pressed firmly between my shoulder blades, keeping me pinned to the mattress. His other hand grips my hair, yanking my head back and to the side so he can claim my mouth in a fierce, dominating kiss.

He drives into me, his body tensing, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You like that, don’t you?” he growls against my mouth. “You like being fucked like this.”

“Yes,” I gasp, my body quivering with pleasure, my heart pounding in my chest .

With a final, brutal thrust, he finds his release, his body shaking with the force of it. I cry out, my orgasm crashing over me, waves of pleasure drowning out the past, leaving only the present, only Mason.

As he collapses on top of me, his body still claiming mine, his breath hot and ragged in my ear, I’m struck by the sudden realization of what I’m doing. I’m having aggressive, brutal sex with a man whose last name I don’t even know.

After everything Steffan put me through, I should be terrified, should be guarding myself against more pain and abuse. But there’s something about Mason, something in his touch, his voice, his eyes, that makes everything okay.

I feel safe with him.

Ironically, I feel safer with a stranger than my husband.

We lie there, our bodies entwined, our hearts pounding in sync. Then he rolls off me, pulling me into his arms, holding me close. His hand gently strokes my back, his touch now tender and caring.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice soft with awe. “The way you respond, the way you give yourself to me… It’s more than I ever hoped for.”

“It’s you.” I smile, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my lips. “You give me space to yield.”

He kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. His touch is gentle and tender. “You’re safe with me, I promise. I will never take your submission for granted.”

I smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

As I drift off to sleep, wrapped in his embrace, a sense of peace and contentment washes over me. I don’t know his last name, and I know nothing about him except how he makes me feel.

The reality of what I’ve just done hits me in waves.

I had the most erotic sex of my life with a man I barely know—a man who, only hours ago, was a stranger. A man who saved me from a blizzard, brought me to safety, and who might be able to protect me from the very real danger that Steffan poses.

I should be terrified. I should be guarding myself against more pain, more abuse. I should be thinking about the consequences of my actions, about the potential danger I’m putting myself in. But as I lie here, wrapped in Mason’s arms, I’m not afraid.

I don’t regret what I’ve done.

Instead, I’m filled with a sense of wonder and disbelief. A sense of rightness. As if this is what I’ve always desired.

I wish I could keep real life from intruding on this moment. I wish I could stay here, in this cocoon of pleasure and surrender, forever. Because this moment is pure bliss. It’s everything I never knew I needed, everything I’ve been craving.

Everything I never had.

As I drift off to sleep, reality waits outside this secluded cabin. Drake and his team are out there, posing a very real and dangerous threat. I can’t hide forever, which means I can’t lose myself in Mason’s touch.

But this moment is mine.

Mason is mine.

And I want more.