He stopped in the doorframe leading to the living area and turned to face her. He grabbed both sides of the frame with his hands. He was so tall and huge, he filled the entire space, again making the room seem to be sized wrong for him. “I can’t make love to you, Jenna. And you’re killing me.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” She had no idea exactly what he meant—again. He said it as though he weren’t capable.
Jenna breathed hard and fast. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life. Ten times more. And she was practically begging him. How the hell had it come to this? She knew he was interested. He made that clear from the moment he sauntered into the church late for the rehearsal.
Whatever piece of this puzzle she was missing was a mystery.
Mason stared at her, his expression serious and unreadable. Long seconds went by, maybe minutes, while Jenna heaved for oxygen and tried not to fidget.
“Take off your dress.” His voice was lower, deeper. It wove through the room and wrapped around her, enveloping her in the command.
She should have been shocked. Instead she was mesmerized as though held in a trance by his piercing stare.
Jenna didn’t break his gaze as she did his bidding. Did he sway closer to her as she reached behind for the zipper?
It could have been her imagination. Impossible to tell. He held the wood frame with a death grip, his body leaning into the room.
She couldn’t read him, as usual, but at least he was moving in the right direction. She needed sex. Hell, she needed a fuck. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted fast and hard. Lucky for her, the intense stare he gave her told her he was on the edge of losing it alongside her.
The zipper reached the bottom, and Jenna shrugged the dress around her until it fell to the floor. She stood before him knowing what he saw without lowering her gaze. All she wore underneath was a black lace bra and a matching thong. Why she’d worn her favorite sexy set tonight she would never know, but thank God.
“Step out from behind the island,” he demanded. His voice remained low. His gaze roamed down her body as she did his bidding again, exposing herself to his piercing gaze. “Spin around. Let me see all of you.”
Jenna licked her dry lips again, wishing she’d at least taken a sip of that water. She spun slowly. It was the only option, really. If she moved any faster, she would have lost her balance and fallen. There was little blood available to command her legs with.
Her breasts felt enormous, and she was afraid to glance down and break the spell. Her pussy was so wet she feared she would leak down her leg.
“Take off the rest, Jenna.” The way he said her name made her shiver. He caressed her with it, from across the room. He wasn’t touching her, and yet he made love to her with his eyes, his words. Or was he fucking her? She wasn’t sure. He’s such a perv. That thought made her pussy clench.
Jenna reached behind and unclasped her bra. Relief filled her to release her tight, heavy breasts from the confining garment. It wasn’t that she was so big. She was average for her size and height, but for whatever reason, she’d been exploding from the lace ever since she’d laid eyes on Mason.
She dropped the black silk on the floor and lifted her gaze to his once more.
He wasn’t looking at her face. He was taking in her breasts, and she struggled to keep from covering herself at the intensity in his blue eyes.
He stared forever at her chest until her nipples grew tight and goose bumps rose on her skin as though his fingers drifted across the tips.
She held her hands at her sides and fisted her fingers until her nails dug into her palms. The sharp pain grounded her, kept her from floating off the floor.
When he glanced back at her face, he lifted a brow. “Panties too, please.”
Jenna jerked. A ball in the lower pit of her stomach grew and pressed into her pussy. Her legs shook at his plea.
God almighty he had a way…
Jenna tucked her thumbs into the lace at her hips and lowered the thong, wiggling her ass back and forth until the material fell to the floor. She stepped out of the scrap of lace, toward him.
They were separated by far too much distance.
He continued to stare, except now he took in her pussy as though under a microscope.
Self-consciousness flooded her system. She groomed down there, but she did it herself. She wasn’t overly careful. After all, she hadn’t had a man in her apartment for over a year. Who the hell cared if she shaved or not?
Luckily she’d shaved today. The short dress demanded she shave her legs, and while she’d been working her way up, she’d formed the nice triangle she liked to keep at the apex of her sex.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a woman so…pure. I’m not used to pubic hair. It suits you. I like it.”