He shook his head at her. “You make me feel things I never thought possible.” He stroked her face with both hands on either side of her.
She didn’t speak. She simply nodded. Did he know he did the same to her?
Not releasing her gaze, he pulled almost out of her and then plunged back into her depths. “Oh, baby…” His eyes fluttered.
Jenna came. Hard and fast with no warning. She couldn’t have stopped it if he’d commanded her to. Her entire body shook with the pulsing of her pussy. She strained against her bindings to no avail. The low moan she heard came from her. The only movement she could make was to tip her head back, which exposed her neck to Mason.
He dipped his face and nuzzled her throat, nibbling toward one ear as he stiffened inside her and came on the heels of her orgasm. “Oh… My… God… Jenna.” His words were garbled, but she got the gist.
She heaved for air as her body relaxed onto the table.
Mason inhaled slow and deep against her neck, over and over for several minutes until he finally lifted his gaze. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He glanced down at her body as he lifted farther off her. “I love these ribbons.” He trailed a finger between her breasts. “You can’t imagine how hot that made me.”
“I bet I can.” She felt the same. Unbelievable, but being restrained had made her head swim with need. She grinned. “I loved it.”
He paused and held her gaze. “I want to take pictures of you trussed up like this one day.”
She froze, her eyes widening.
He chuckled. “Not today. When you’re ready.”
When would she ever be ready for that?
Mason stood. He walked away for a few seconds out of sight and returned without the condom. He reached for one end of the ribbon and pulled. It seemed so simple how easily he removed her bindings. A simple bow held her in place. And yet she’d been unable to move an inch…
Mason lifted her off the table and carried her to the bed. He settled her on his sheets and spooned himself behind her. Kisses landed on her neck and ear as she closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered was him whispering in her ear. “Sleep, baby…”
Chapter Seventeen
On Sunday night at six o’clock sharp, Mason reached for the bell next to the front door of the Mathews’ home. He held Jenna’s hand tighter than necessary and silently cursed his choice of clothing.
He wore khaki Dockers and a button-up shirt, but somehow now that they’d arrived, he felt underdressed. Perhaps Jenna could have mentioned the level of opulence he would be stepping into. Judging by the size of the mansion her parents owned, he guessed they must be from very old money. Why was Jenna working her ass off to make ends meet and living in such a tiny old apartment? It made him cringe every time he pulled up to it. He worried about her safety. The area wasn’t the best.
When he let his gaze land on Jenna’s face, he couldn’t feel anger, however. She chewed on her lower lip and seemed to have slipped into a much younger version of herself. The woman was petrified. This was not her idea of a good time. Perhaps he should have listened to her. Clearly, pressuring her into dinner with her family had been almost more than she could bear.
The door opened, and Mason straightened up taller, flicking his gaze from Jenna to the man standing in the entrance.
“Dad,” Jenna mumbled.
“Welcome home.” He opened the door wider, allowing them entrance. “Patrick Mathews,” he said as he reached for Mason’s hand.
“Mason Simmons. Nice to meet you, sir.”
The man was stern, but didn’t appear nearly as stuffy or hoity as his wife, Joann.
He turned to his daughter. “I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence, Jenna. Your mother will be thrilled you’re back at home.”
The way he worded his phrase made Mason’s skin crawl. His tone was…accusatory. This situation definitely screamed at him to keep all his senses on alert.
Mason held Jenna’s hand as they followed her father into what Mason assumed was the library. He almost chuckled as he pictured grown men from a historical romance novel enjoying a brandy and a cigar after dinner while the womenfolk discussed embroidery in another parlor somewhere.
That would never happen because Mason had no intention of releasing Jenna at any point during the evening, or at least not letting her out of his sight.
His skin crawled in discomfort as she dug her nails into his palm seemingly without realizing it. Her face was paler than normal, and she barely released her lower lip from her teeth. No smile passed over her expression at any moment, and she glanced around the room as though some secret hidden escape route might be present behind one of the bookcases. Or maybe it was worse than that, and she feared she’d get sucked into the mansion at some corner and never be released.