Maybe I should have been bothered by how quickly I forgot what I was irritated about at the obvious signs of his pleasure, but I was too caught up in what was happening to care. So caught up that I jerked in surprise when he took hold of my hand. Frowning, I watched as he drew my hand toward his face and sucked in one of my fingers. Considering I knew he could take a lot more than just my fingers, I was confused, a little entranced by the feel of his tongue swirling around my finger, but confused.
That was until he pulled free with a smirk, leaving my finger covered in saliva. He pushed it down until my hand lay over his exposed ass. He didn't have to say what he wanted, and for the first time since we'd stepped off the elevator, I hesitated. Even with my finger simply sitting there, I could still feel the heat radiating off him, both tempting and daunting. But I also knew that if I didn't move fast, the limited and quickly disappearing supply of saliva wasn't going to last long.
Fuck it, we'd got that far under the lure of me putting a lot more than a finger inside him, there was no point in balking.
Pushing forward, I felt my breath catch as he opened up to me with an ease I wasn't expecting. Even then, the grip of his muscles around just one finger was enough to grab my attention, and the heat held it. Mason's hips rolled slightly as the digit slipped inside completely, and I froze for a moment, feeling his muscles grip and release my finger, as if trying to welcome and encourage me.
"There we go," he said in a slightly tense voice, though his eyes shone with amusement and lust. "Now I've got you."
I knew then that he had intentionally done it in an attempt to get me to let go of the last of my inhibitions. I probably shouldhave hated that he understood me well enough to know I would need a little extra help, but also that he couldn't be obvious about it. Now I was caught up in the feel of him, knowing he wanted more than my finger inside him, I was too far gone to pull back, no matter how irritated I was at being seen so clearly. There was something about Mason, of all people, knowing me that well, which was unsettling, but again, I was too caught up in the moment to feel more than a shiver of discomfort that shriveled and died in the heat of the promise of what was to come.
"We're gonna need more than spit," I muttered as the last of the unease died and some of my brain cells were able to grasp logic.
"I guess it's a good thing I'm always prepared," he said, cocking a brow. "Of course, I don't keep it with me on a normal day. Maybe after this, I should start."
"Bedroom?"
"You got it because our big asses trying anything on this couch is asking for trouble."
There was truth to that, and realizing that meant we'd have to move. I reluctantly drew my finger out with the silent assurance that it wouldn't be for long. I pushed away, giving Mason room to roll off the couch, with him groaning as he moved his hands to his lower back and stretched for a moment. I suspected he wasn't actually trying to put on a show, but a show it was, and I watched the way skin stretched over his muscles as they shifted slightly, his hips pushing toward me, his cock hard and bouncing in front of me.
All aspects of the display had my attention, and despite how much other evidence there was, it was the final nail in the coffin, proving to me that I was, in fact, into men.
What should have been an important, even life-changing realization was interrupted when Mason stopped stretching and gave me the smirk that had always driven me into a rage before,and now carried something else in its wake. He began walking toward the bedroom. I would challenge anyone, even someone just realizing they were into men, to find the willpower to resist the offer of seeing Mason fucking Beckett walking toward the bedroom with the expectation of being followed so he could be fucked.
I certainly couldn't.
Snagging a bag off the floor, he pulled out a bottle of clear fluid before turning to eye me, and tossing it onto the bed. I didn't need him to stare at me for longer than a heartbeat with that expectant look on his face. Another time, when I had full use of my faculties, I might try to figure out the puzzle of how the asshole could be dominant and submissive at the same time, but that moment was not now. All that mattered now was that it was driving me crazy, and I wasn't going to hold back.
Even as I took hold of him, he gripped me tightly. I pushed him onto the bed, following him. Our bodies clashed, and I was reminded of the first time, in that boxing ring, when we accidentally discovered feelings buried so deep inside me that I didn't know they'd existed until his cock had pushed against mine. I was a lot more prepared for the feeling, but it still gripped me as I rutted against him, our mouths slamming together, my tongue keeping his busy from trying to irritate me.
I snatched up the bottle of lube, though it took a lot more fumbling to open it. Applying it while my other hand was gripping the side of his neck was a lot more difficult, and I ended up squeezing it. The result was that my hand and the bed ended up covered with lube. Not really caring about the mess, I reached under him, and this time, emboldened by the intense need controlling me, I pushed two fingers into him.
Mason groaned into my mouth, and I knew he hadn't been kidding about being ready. The thought that he was just as revved up and mindlessly turned on as I was drove me to pushthe fingers deep, stopping only when I foundsomethinginside him that made his body jerk, and a new kind of moan escape his mouth. It reminded me of how he sounded when he came, and without thinking, I kept pushing my fingers, hoping I could remember the exact angle when it was time to fuck him.
From the way he kept thrusting against my hands, the once fierce grip around my fingers loosening considerably, I couldn't help but think the time had finally come. When I pulled back, leaving our faces a mess from the savage kissing, Mason stared up at me with an intensity that reminded me of when we had duked it out fiercely. Except now he was watching me clumsily try to get the bottle in hand and lube myself up, rather than watching to see when the next blow was going to come.
"Do you need more?" I asked, holding up my hand and showing my fingers to try to make sense of my question. I might not have been firing on all cylinders, and had actually never had anal sex before, but I understood the basics enough to know preparation was vital.
"I'll live," he grunted, and while some voice in the back of my head said that maybe he wasn't thinking things through, I didn't possess the mental fortitude to argue. Plus, if he wanted to risk suffering for his choices later, then I wasn't going to be the angel on his shoulder and try to talk sense into him.
Pressing the head of my cock against him probably should have been some momentous occasion, but all I could think was that I needed to be inside him. I pressed forward, gripping the base of my dick to keep it steady as I tried to find the right force to get inside without shoving half my length in in one go. It turned out I wasn't nearly as in control as I hoped, and I grunted when I slid forward suddenly, and not just the head, but the first couple of inches buried inside him.
"Fuck!” he snarled, body going rigid, and I froze as his eyes blazed. "Careful! Jesus, I'm not so loose that you can shove that fucking monster into me."
"Big baby," I grunted, even though I refused to move in either direction for fear of making it worse. I wasn't exactly opposed to hurting the bastard, fuck knew he’d invited it more than once, but I didn't want to hurt him seriously.
"Yeah, well, let's see that same energy when I finally convince you to have your turn," he said, smacking my chest with his knuckles hard enough to send a reverberation through my muscles.
"Ow," I grunted, wanting to hit him back, but still afraid to move.
"You deserve worse than that," he said, eyes narrowed. "You're lucky I know you're just a clumsy virgin, or I'd tell you to fuck off."
"I'm not a virgin."
"A gay virgin."
"I'm not gay!"
