Pride (Page 22)

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“What in god’s name…” I get up and peek out my bay window. It’s too late for anyone to just stop by. It’s not my parents since I just spoke to Mom. I don’t see anyone, and my nerves begin to spike. This is a safe neighborhood, but no matter the location, New Orleans has its danger. More banging sounds, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. My hackles rise as I get up and grab for the bat hidden in the large vase holding my umbrellas. “Who is it?” I call to the door as I tiptoe to the side, using the bat to pull back the curtains. My eyes widen in shock when I see Mason.

“Open up,” he yells through the barrier.

I drop the bat and start working on opening the locks. Once I get the last one undone and twist the knob, the door pushes open and Mason falls through the threshold.

“Mason…what are you…are you drunk?” He stumbles forward again, almost taking us both to the ground. His foot manages to kick back and shut the door. “You can’t just show up at my—”

“Why’d you do it?” He steadies himself with the help of my hallway end table. I get a glimpse of his hands. His knuckles are cut up and bloodied.

“Do what? What happened to your hand?”

He ignores my question. His hair is as wild as the look in his eyes. “The night we met, you got me in that motel room and we fucked like animals.” I suck in a breath at his crude choice of words. “Yeah, you know, when I ate your cunt until you screamed. Tore your nails deep into my back until I tied you up.” My body heats at the memory. The way he smelled that night at the bar. The ferocity in his eyes that had me wet before even saying a word to him. The way he looked so damaged, I knew giving him a way to forget would be what we both needed. “Why’d you pick me?”

“You seemed like you could use—”

“Don’t play games with me. Why? I could’ve been some fucking serial killer. Rapist.”

“You looked lost, not murderous,” I say, speaking the truth. If I felt any danger about him, I would have never done what I’d done.

“How many guys have you taken home like that and fucked?”

“That’s none of your—”

“How many fucking guys have you allowed to put their fingers in your sweet tight ass, their cocks in your cunt—”

My open palm, with a fierce quickness, strikes across his face. The pain shoots through my wrist and up my arm. My breath catches in my throat as he attacks me. His large hands scoop me into his arms, backing us farther into the house.

“Why would you put yourself in danger like that? I could have hurt you. I can hurt you.”

I raise my arms around his neck, making a point to skim my fingers along the red welt on his cheek. “But you’re not. Never did I feel threatened or uncomfortable with you.”

“You should have,” he growls, digging his fingers into my butt cheeks. “Now I know your secret. I know what a bad, bad girl you are.” He crushes his lips down on mine. He’s rough and feral, forcing my lips open and shoving his tongue inside my mouth. His brutal outburst is confusing yet turns me on. I don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s far from the flirt he’s been the past two weeks. I want to ask what’s changed in him, but my mind is starting to flip and that ache to be that bad, bad girl begs with need to come out and play.

“That’s the risk I took. The high of knowing I was taking home a stranger to play my little game and hope he was the winning type. The dark type. The giving—ahhh…” I moan as both hands grip my ass hard, pulling my cheeks apart. He grinds into me, his cock hard against my stomach. The size of him sends a wave of sensations down every nerve ending, and I can’t help but press into him. The friction has him growling in my mouth and deepening our kiss.

Too many scenarios swirl around in my mind. Make him stop. Have him fuck me against my table. He’s too young. Take him to my bedroom and play. He’s your student. You have to stop this and make him leave. Maybe just a little taste. I’ll behave. Dark. Only foreplay. Everything, everything, everything! I beg to take him back to my bedroom and have him tie me up and whip me and fuck me in ways I can’t stop fantasizing about.

I knew by the shocked expression on his face when I pulled out my toys, it was the first time he’d been so adventurous. But now, it all made sense. He was still so young. It also reminds me of all the things I have hidden in my bedroom. The stuff I swore I was going to throw away after I got the one night out of my system. But I never had the guts to get rid of it. Do not go there, Megan. This is wrong.

Mason rips his mouth off mine and goes for my neck. I bend to the side to allow him better access. “You’re fucking with my head,” he hums against my skin.

“Would you rather me be fucking something else? Fucking your cock?” Oh my god, my vulgar mouth! Stop egging this on. Be the adult. Or not. I embrace the layers of goosebumps over my skin at the fantasy of him doing just that. I should be ashamed at how much I’ve fantasized about being with him. Having him inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut at how shitty my willpower is, and how I let him do insane things to me—in my classroom, of all places. I should fire myself for being so reckless. He could cost me my job and reputation if we got caught. But there was something inside me that told me the wildness of it all was all worth it.

Snap out of this, Megan!

Dammit, this is so wrong. I squeeze my eyes tighter, willing myself to push him away. Ask him to go. And, most importantly, tame the dark beast inside myself before she ends up ruining everything I’ve worked so hard for. I take in a deep breath to clear my mind, but Mason’s not making it easy for me. His hand finds its way to the back of my pajama pants and using his finger, he grazes my back hole. Fuck. My legs threaten to buckle, and I rock into him. “Mason…”

“Fucking dirty girl.” He reaches forward, until his fingers are saturated with my arousal. Pushing one finger inside me, he pulls out, swirling the wetness between my butt cheeks. “How many guys have you let do this to you?”

I struggle in his arms, but he holds me tighter in place, going back and inserting two fingers inside me. “Why, want someone else to join us? Didn’t picture you as the multi-player—”

He bites at my neck, and I whimper, my final words falling short off my tongue. “I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets between this.” He starts pumping me harder. His spite of jealousy ignites my already pulsating arousal.

“Just a two-player game then? Just your cock? Or should we—ahhh, shit, yes…” I moan as he uses his thumb to breach my puckered hole. He works me faster, and I lose my will to hang on. My orgasm erupts through me, and I explode around his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pumping in and out. My sensitivity kicks in, and my legs quiver around him. He pulls his soaked hand free and drops my legs to the ground while I attempt to catch my bearings.

He’s yet to take his eyes off me, pinning me with his stare. “Who the fuck was that guy tonight?”

“Huh?” I reply, still chasing my orgasmic high.

“I saw you. Is he another conquest? Am I just a fucking conquest?”

At first, he confuses me, but then my awful forced dinner date comes to mind. “Wait, you saw me?”

A growl deep in his chest rumbles up his throat, shaking the floor beneath our feet. “Answer me,” he demands.

I should be mad at the way he’s talking to me—asking questions that are none of his business—but his intensity does something to me. “No, he wasn’t a conquest. Far from it. It was a horrible date Aunt Lillian basically forced me on. She lied to me. It was supposed to be for a new fund-raising prospect for the Faith and Leadership program. As soon as we sat down, I found out it was far from it, and I kindly told him I wasn’t interested and left. And if you want to know, no, you’re not a conquest either. You’re something more.”

The angel on my one shoulder just conked me over the head with her sparkly wand. My confession was a bad, bad idea. But the devil in the other corner pricks me with his sharp fork and cheers me on. He praises my handy work and promises all things Mason are a great idea.

When Mason slams his mouth against mine, I mentally flick off my angel while high-fiving my devil, grab the lapels of his jacket, and tug him toward my bedroom. When we step over the threshold of my room, my huge bed, filled with white pillows and layers of soft blankets, comes into view. Nothing close to the sex dungeon I bet he expected. But the truth is, Mason is the first and only person I’ve ever shared my secret desires with.

Even with the urge building inside me for years, I didn’t muster up the courage until that night. The way I felt with Mason that night was nothing I’d ever experienced before. Alive. Empowered I’d orgasmed with such fierceness more times than I’ve ever had with any man or toy. When I left that morning, I wanted to wake him for more, ride his hard cock until stars exploded behind my eyelids, then do our night all over again. I was willing to never leave that motel. But as tempted as I was, I left, told myself I more than scratched my itch and it was time to go back to my normal, vanilla life and move on. I didn’t bust my ass to lose it all. Get caught up with a guy from the wrong side of the tracks just to fulfill my overflowing sexual desires to be bad.