Chapter 55 Chapter 55 Lights Out
Mason and I stand by the door, seeing his family out one by one. Dinner ended up being a lot more relaxed than the way it started. Once the initial interrogation died down, the tension eased just enough to breathe.
He looks so much like his father in certain angles—the same eyes, the same broad frame—but everything else is his mother. The dark hair, the warm tone of his skin. His sisters got the darker features too, but their complexion is pale like their father’s.
Other than his mom, no one really warmed up to me.
Which is fine.
I might have been a little too vulgar for their polished, controlled world.
Mason hasn’t stopped touching me the entire night. One hand always on me—my waist, my back, my hip. Like he needs to keep contact, like letting go isn’t an option.
He’s talking to his uncle now, something about the weigh-in tomorrow. I only half listen, my mind drifting.
Sergey.
The fight.
The tension between them.
I can already imagine the words that will be exchanged. I can already feel how easily my name could get dragged into it.
I don’t want that.
But I did this to myself.
I can practically hear my sister’s voice in my head, telling me exactly that.
Mason’s hand slides under my sweater, slipping into the back of my jeans. The heat from his touch spreads instantly, lighting my skin on fire.
His uncle notices the shift—the way Mason’s expression changes—and excuses himself without another word.
The second the door clicks shut behind the last of them, Mason moves.
He lifts me effortlessly, and I can’t help but laugh, the sound breaking out of me as he carries me down the hall.
We reach his bedroom.
He sets me down by the bed, already pulling his shirt over his head. I slide my sweater off, and his eyes drop immediately to my pink lace bra.
His hands are on me before I can even breathe.
He groans, gripping my tits, rough and hungry.
Then he drops to his knees.
My jeans are unzipped, pulled down my legs in one smooth motion. The garter belt, the stockings—no panties.
"Oh, baby…" he moans, and then his mouth is on me.
I gasp, my fingers digging into the sheets as his tongue moves, slow at first, then deeper, harder. Heat explodes through me, sparks lighting up every inch of my skin.
I watch him shove his sweats and boxers down, his body moving with urgency as he keeps eating me out like he’s starving.
Then he’s up again.
He pushes me back onto the bed.
For a second, I just look at him.
His body is… unreal. Sculpted, solid, smooth skin catching the low light.
His cock is thick, hard, veins standing out, the tip glistening.
Not as big as Ivan—
Stop.
Focus.
"Bra off," he says, voice low.
He spreads my legs and spits directly onto my pussy.
My breath hitches.
He wraps his hand around his cock, dragging the head through the wetness, coating himself slowly.
Then he pushes the tip inside me.
Just the tip.
And pulls back out.
Again. And again.
My hips jerk toward him, needy. My body is screaming for more, but he keeps teasing—sliding in just enough before pulling away, dragging his teeth along my skin, his tongue following, driving me insane.
The frustration builds fast, turning sharp, almost angry.
I can’t take it.
I hook my legs around him and flip us over.
Mason’s eyes widen, breath catching as I take control.
I sink down onto him in one motion.
My hands press against his chest as I start to move—bouncing, grinding. He groans beneath me, his hands gripping my ass hard, thrusting up to meet me.
I sit up, leaning back slightly, grabbing his thighs, rolling my hips in slow waves.
I tighten around him with every movement, squeezing, releasing, holding him just long enough to feel him react.
"Fuck… you feel so fucking good," he groans.
His hands move up, grabbing my tits, squeezing.
My vision starts to blur.
The pressure builds fast.
And then—
I break.
A sharp cry escapes me as I squirt over him, the release hitting hard, washing through my body in waves. My muscles go soft, but I keep moving, riding him through it.
He tenses beneath me, then explodes inside me, his body jerking as he finishes.
"I need a minute," he breathes.
I collapse beside him, catching my breath.
For the first time, I actually look around his room.
The canopy bed, dark curtains framing us. Smooth, silky sheets tangled beneath our bodies. The rest of the room is almost empty—nothing personal. Just nightstands and a bench at the foot of the bed.
Mason turns toward me, pressing soft kisses along my neck, my chin, then my lips. My body responds automatically, turning into him.
His hand glides over me again, tracing every curve, slow, deliberate.
I feel him hardening between us.
He shifts, moving between my legs as I lie on my side.
His hands grip my thigh, spreading me open again.
And then he thrusts.
Hard.
Urgent.
No hesitation this time.
His cock slams into me, hitting everything, deeper with every push. My body jerks with each thrust, overwhelmed by the intensity.
His hand slides up my stomach, between my breasts.
Then his fingers wrap around my throat.
Tight.
My breath catches instantly.
Stars flicker at the edges of my vision as he squeezes, cutting off my air. My body reacts before my mind can—heat, pressure, everything building too fast.
I gasp, trying to pull in air, but there’s nothing.
My body tips over the edge again, the orgasm ripping through me as darkness creeps in.
Mason tightens his grip.
I feel him finish, his body tensing as he comes inside me.
I try to pull his hand away.
My fingers claw at his wrist.
Nothing.
No air.
Panic spikes sharp and sudden.
I try to push him back, my other hand pressing weakly against his chest.
My vision goes completely black.
And then—
Nothing.
I’m falling.
Endless, weightless, cold.
Then I hit something hard—wet, freezing. The air is thick, suffocating.
And I hear it.
That voice.
Familiar.
Disgusting.
It crawls over my skin, makes my stomach turn.
I curl into myself, arms wrapped around my legs, shaking uncontrollably. Tears stream down my face, hitting the cold floor beneath me.
The smell hits next.
Rotten. Nauseating.
I feel it closer now—breath against my face.
Then pain.
Sharp. Sudden.
"Elle, baby, wake up!!!"
Mason’s voice breaks through everything.
My eyes snap open.
Tears blur my vision as I jerk away from him, grabbing the sheets, pulling them over myself like a shield. My hand flies to my neck, rubbing the soreness, grounding myself.
He reaches for me.
I flinch back.
Hard.
I scramble out of bed, grabbing my clothes, pulling them on as fast as I can, my hands shaking.
"I’m sorry," he says quickly. "You’re so small, I didn’t realize—"
"I’m going home, Mason," I cut him off, my voice unsteady but firm.
I look at him, really look at him.
"I don’t feel safe with you."