Pleasing Her SEAL(22)

"I'm not cold anymore." If her words came out more moan than words, that was entirely Mason's fault.

"Good," he said hoarsely. "Let's see you how like this."

His devilish fingers, chilled from the ice cubes, slid through her  folds. It was too much and not enough, a raw, erotic shock that had her  arching up against him. Except...she wanted to touch him, too.

Go big and own it. She peeked in the bowl, hoping for inspiration. And,  hello, naughty idea. Not only had he brought ice, but he'd brought  Popsicles. She'd had no idea her villa's kitchen was so well stocked. Or  that Mason had such a creative imagination.

She grabbed a cherry Popsicle, which was definitely her new favorite  flavor. At least her mouth wouldn't turn bright green or purple. Unless  Mason had undisclosed alien sex fantasies, that wouldn't be a hot look.                       
       
           


       

"It's still my turn," he growled, still fingering her pussy.

"You bet." This was all about making him feel good after all. She eased  the Popsicle into her mouth, pretending it was a certain part of Mason.  Sure, the Popsicle was way too small and cold, but she worked it for  all she was worth. Moving her mouth up and down the icy treat, swirling  her tongue around the top. When it popped free with an audible sound, he  groaned.

"You play dirty." He sounded approving.

Absolutely, and always in bed. Handing him the Popsicle, she reached  for him, intending to go down on him. "Hold this and hold on. I've heard  guys love this."

"Now that I've got this?" He waggled the Popsicle. "Nuh-uh. It's still  my turn, sweetheart." He dropped down the bed, maneuvering his shoulders  between her thighs, pushing her wide. She had just enough time to  wonder what she looked like before something cold slicked over her  pussy.

"Mason-"

"Shh. I'm working here." He parted her and then he ran the damned  Popsicle around her clit. Oh. The shiver working up from her toes had  absolutely, positively nothing to do with being cold, because she was  hot all over.

* * *

MADDIE SHRIEKED SOMETHING. Mason couldn't tell what, didn't care,  because her hands were pulling at his shoulders. The sounds she made  were more erotic than the dirtiest words because she didn't hold back.  This was his Maddie, letting him touch her.

He'd make this good for her. He'd make this fantasy come true, and then  he'd find out what else she dreamed about and do that, too. Whatever  she wanted, she got it.

He moved his mouth over the skin of her thigh. She tasted sweet, felt  even softer, and the heat of her...the speed with which her Popsicle was  melting pointed out the flaw in this plan of hers.

"Mason," she pleaded, her hips moving against his hands. More words  followed his name, disjointed and throaty. He loved that he could make  his smart, funny Maddie stop thinking and lose her train of thought.

Abandoning what remained of the Popsicle, he tossed it away. Maddie  opened her mouth, but he didn't think she was about to criticize his  lack of housekeeping skills. Just to be sure, however, he moved his  mouth higher, closing the distance between him and her sweet spot. He  licked her where she was cherry red, swiping his tongue up her slit. The  icy cool of the Popsicle burst on his tongue, a bright hit of  artificial flavor, followed by the taste of Maddie. And that taste?  Absolutely exquisite.

He tipped her farther back onto the bed, cradling her hips with his  hand. She sprawled on the mattress, her fingers pushing first into the  sheets, and then fluttering to his shoulders. His head. Touching him in  as many places as she could. Not good enough, not yet. He went back to  her cherry sweet spot and covered her with his mouth.

She shrieked his name, her hands grabbing on to his head and holding on. Yeah. Just like that, sugar.

Her legs fell open and he ate his sweet treat. Licked up her cream as  he found her clit and pressed with his tongue. Flicked and rubbed as he  pushed the tip of two fingers inside her slick channel. She shrieked  some more-when she let go, she let go, which was just one more thing he  loved about her.

Love.

Wait.

He froze for a moment and the chill sweeping him had nothing to do with  ice or Popsicles, because that L-word wasn't supposed to pop into his  head right now. Or ever. But her hands tugged on his head, her hips  bucking against his face, and now wasn't the time to ask himself which  it was, love or sex, because he could feel her thighs tensing, her heels  digging into his back, and she was so close. Instead of thinking, he  gave her more, sliding his fingers in, rubbing the pads of his  fingertips against that one particular spot that makes her clench.

"Mason." His name. A breathy sigh this time. Funny how when she came,  she got quiet, just letting go and coming undone in his arms like all  the fireworks were on the inside now and required all her attention. And  he had her, holding her tight until she finished and he could move up,  pull her into his arms. Funny, too, how just this would be enough,  making her feel good. Making her happy.

Fuck.

It really might be love after all.                       
       
           


       

* * *

MASON'S JAW CLENCHED as he pulled her into his arms. She was still  humming, coming down from the most amazing orgasm high ever. Part of her  had an immediate date with her pillow, and the mattress had never  seemed softer, better, but she had Mason wrapped around her-and he had  an erection that wouldn't quit. Wasting it would be a shame.

So she rolled onto her back, tugging him over her. He let her, settling  easily between her hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and it  was just like before, except now he was kissing distance away. Knowing  where his mouth had been got her hot. The wet slick of her juices on his  lips was one of the most erotic sights she'd ever seen and she pressed  her fingertips against his mouth.

This was probably the moment when she should say something witty or  memorable-or at least appreciative. Instead, she was more of a babbler  and nonstop talker. She also gave directions, because there was no point  in forgoing an orgasm just because her partner wasn't getting it right.  But Mason was...Mason. And he wasn't like any of her other lovers. They  were nice guys or-more often-bad boys, because if she was treating  herself, she liked to do it right, with guys who knew how to make sure  the night was fun. Mason was fun, too, but he was also something...more.  If she hadn't still been quivering, her legs weak from the most  incredible orgasm she'd had in months or possibly forever, she would  have taken a moment to think about it.

Instead, she ran her hands up his arms. He was sweat slicked, the  muscles cording in the sexiest way as he held himself up over her.

Since it was her turn-and she really, really wanted to feel him inside  her sometime soon-she traced those delicious biceps with her hands.  Followed with her mouth, leaning up to tongue his nipples. He groaned, a  husky sound that was part curse, part her name.

"I'm right here," she said, as if there was any question of that.

Then he lowered his mouth, taking her. Their tongues tangled and all  the games, the erotic refinements, didn't matter half as much as that  raw connection. She tasted him. Licked him. Learning his mouth, his  throat, the hard, ridged planes of his chest. His hands and mouth were  equally busy, roaming over her curves, and his fingers found her pussy  again. There was nothing fancy or sophisticated about this, just the  exquisite heat of his touch and the need to press as much of her against  as much of him as possible.

Eventually, he threw out an arm, reaching for the condoms on the  bedside table. She was no help at all as he tore a packet open, because  she was just waiting for him to put himself inside her. Or for her to  take him. Right now, either worked for her as long as it happened now,  now, now.

He dragged the tip down her slit and that was one more jolt of  pleasure. His eyes were glazed, too, though, his breath coming in rough  pants, and she pulled him closer so she could feel the tension and need  vibrating through his big body. Whatever this was, whatever they were  doing here in her bed, right now he was all hers.

He entered her slowly, inch by inch. And that felt so much better than  his tongue or his fingers, filling up an empty place she hadn't realized  she had. He paused when he was seated deep inside her.

"Okay?" He asked the question as if he was dead serious, and she knew  she should tell him that she didn't always need sweet and gentle. It was  okay for him to not be a gentleman, to be just a little rough and let  go all the way. He pulled out a few glorious, friction-filled inches,  before pushing back inside her.