Chapter Ten

Mason tried to ignore the mouthwatering scent of the omega, he really did. He’d pretended to not notice an hour before when he’d been in the kitchen. He’d taken himself outside for some fresh air. When, an hour after the first whiff, he could still catch the teasing scent of her aroused cunt, however, he realized he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Some things were more than just want. They were written in the primal areas of his DNA, the ones that had been passed down for generations. Those parts of him demanded he satisfy the needy omega who must be stoking the fire for such a scent to linger so long.

The needs of someone’s body were biological requirements. He told himself that over and over while trying to give her privacy. Dylan had crashed a few hours before, and after taking his medication, Sam had followed suit. It left Mason up alone, as usual, and she hadn’t appeared outside for their normal talks.

It seemed she had other plans for the evening, but given that the scent hadn’t dissipated, he’d guess she wasn’t managing shit on her own. Or was she edging herself? Was she taking herself to the precipice of release, then backing off? Was she keeping herself in that sweet torture? He could picture sweat on her brow, her hands shaking from the strain of unfound pleasure.

Whatever it was, it was asking too much from a houseful of alphas to ignore, and Mason knocked on the door gently. No need to embarrass her, but maybe she needed a reminder she wasn’t alone. Maybe she needed someone to reiterate just how good alpha noses were.

No answer came, until a frustrated moan passed through the door.

Mason gave up on knocking, since clearly, she was too distracted to notice. Instead, he slid into the room, shutting the door behind him.

The sight nearly knocked his knees from beneath him. Tracy lay on the bed, covers kicked away, her legs splayed. She had a large shirt on, rucked up around her waist, but no panties. Still, her hand obscured his view as she plunged two fingers into her pussy, her body writhing with tension it couldn’t seem to break.

The feral growl he let out was so deep it vibrated from his throat, like a mating call to a female he couldn’t help.

Tracy reacted as he’d expected, her legs snapping shut and her body bolting upright. She tugged a sheet over her lap, stealing the sight he swore was tattooed into his gray matter.

“Need a hand?” He’d meant the corny come-on to break the ice, to show Tracy there was no reason for fear or upset.

The effect of it on him was something else, as he imagined replacing her small hand with his own, of filling her with his thick fingers. How wet would she be? How tightly would her body grip him?

There went pretending it was nothing, what with the next growl he let out.

“Get out,” she whispered.

“I’ve been smelling you for over an hour, kitten. Having some trouble getting yourself there?”

“That is none of your business.”

Mason crossed his arms so he didn’t reach out, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Come on, I’m just here to help. Part of my job is keeping an eye on you, right?”

“I don’t think Sam meant this.”

“I’d bet he’d be here himself if he wasn’t conked out on pain pills, so what sort of friend would I be if I didn’t take care of his obligations?”

Her face didn’t shift, telling Mason his humor didn’t land. Then again, she looked rather put out right at that moment, so maybe it had more to do with her timing than his humor.

“Kitten,” he tried again, softening his voice. “I don’t have to help, but you really are distracting with that scent. You can’t do this in a house full of alphas and expect no one will notice. It won’t get any better until you take care of yourself.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, an adorable discomfort on her face. “I’m trying.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Not working?”

Her hair fell into her eyes she when shook her head. Her voice came out softly when she spoke. “I feel like there’s this energy inside me. I didn’t feel like this with Richard, but I can’t get rid of it. I thought…”

When she didn’t continue, Mason offered up some help. “You thought a little personal time would help? You ain’t wrong. It’s pretty damned natural that living in a house with three alphas would set you off, would get all those omega hormones riled up. It’s the way we’re made, kitten—it ain’t a sign of weakness.”

“It didn’t work.” And wasn’t that a shit-ton of unhappy on her face as she admitted it? Sexual frustration wasn’t something anyone wore well, and maybe it made Mason an asshole, but he sort of liked to see her pouting over being horny.

Adorable.

“Bet it’s been a while since you tried. How long’s it been since you gave yourself a hand?”

She didn’t respond, but the movement of her eyes said she was thinking rather than avoiding the question.

“If it takes long division to figure it out, it’s been too long. And when was the last time you got off, not counting a heat?”

Again, no answer, but this time her gaze dropped, shame coloring the motion. Poor girl blamed herself for it. “Richard wasn’t very appreciative of the fact I stopped enjoying his touch,” she whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Yeah, well, who could blame you for not wanting that asshole anywhere near you, and certainly not wanting to let your guard down? Look, I’m as big a fan of orgasms as anyone, but you’re pretty fucking vulnerable as your body goes haywire, right? Everything sort of implodes, leaves you at your partner’s mercy. Ain’t the sort of thing you want to happen around someone you don’t trust.”

She traced a pattern in the comforter with her pointer finger, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what it was like. I stopped wanting anything with him, but he isn’t here anymore.”

“But you’ve been resisting a while, been used to not wanting it for a long time. You having trouble getting there? Sometimes fingers ain’t enough.”

That did get her to lift her gaze, and wasn’t the suspicion there cute? “If that’s your way of telling me you should help, don’t think I’ll fall for it. You wouldn’t be the first to tell me your magical parts are the answer to all my problems.”

Parts? The shy phrasing charmed him, but not as much as that little spark of attitude she gave him.

He grinned and gave her a wink. “Hey, my offer stands, but no. Look in the left side drawer of your nightstand. I know Sam pretty damned well, I bet.”

She leaned over, and the action flashed her ass at him. The things that ass made him think were downright sinful. He’d bet it would give beneath his grip so well, his large hands cupping it perfectly. Hell, he wanted to grip it while he slid balls-deep into her tight, wet cunt.

A soft, scandalized gasp said she’d found Sam’s fun drawer.

Sam might seem sweet, but he enjoyed toys, and he’d never have had her there without keeping a few in the nightstand in case she needed them. Always taking care of people, ain’t he?

She moved back to sitting, with nothing to hide herself, probably too distracted by the pink vibrator she now clutched in her hands.

“Ever used one?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Never said you were. Knowing what one is and using one are different, though. I heard you settled down with that prick pretty young. He doesn’t strike me as the kind who would let you go playing around with toys. Seems more like a ‘my dick is magic and oughta be enough’ sort of bastard.”

She pressed the button at the end, the thing buzzing quietly to life. “Yeah, he was.” Another pause. “And, no, I haven’t.”

Fuck, I want to see her use it. I want to see her come unglued from it. Hell, I want to hold that toy against her clit until she’s crying out.

“Go on,” he demanded, voice husky, needing to see her come.

Tracy didn’t move right away, and when she did, it was so slow, like the sweetest torture. She leaned back against the pillows, her thighs spreading wide. The sheet she’d pulled up covered her cunt, but he ignored the disappointment as she lowered the vibrator down her small body.

He didn’t need to see her pussy to know when she’d touched it to her clit the first time. A sharp, startled gasp and the jerking of her entire body said she’d done it and probably too hard.

“Easy,” Mason said. “It’s stronger than you’re used to. You don’t need to use it as hard as you would your fingers. Glide it around your clit, kitten, to the side, above, hell don’t even touch your clit at first. Thing is strong enough to get you off in just the general proximity.”

Tracy’s eyes slipped closed, and the next pass brought a breathy moan. She must have listened to his advice, and the idea of her getting herself off to the sound of his voice made him shift, his dick hard against his sweats. He’d love to jerk off to the incredible sight. Damn, it would feel great to stroke himself while she got off, to watch her little body writhe as she sought her own pleasure, to come just as she did. The moment his cock made an appearance, though, he was pretty sure the moment would be gone.

Pity.

Her hips rolled, and the sheet shifted. Another wanton movement, mindless and seeking, and that covering slipped farther. It wasn’t long before Mason could see everything, before the wet pinkness of her slit came into view. She wasn’t fucking herself on her fingers, wasn’t using them to fill herself in some vain attempt to mimic a cock, but instead worked the vibrator against her body as he’d told her to.

She pressed it to the left of her clit, then the right, never fully touching the hardened bundle of nerves, never moving the hood for direct contact.

Good girl. Show me everything.

A tremble started in her thighs and her lips parted to release louder moans, ones that bordered on desperate whimpers. Her scent bloomed more, saturating the room, reaching inside him to demand that his alpha side satisfy her.

The need was bone-deep, an instinct so primal he struggled to resist it. He was an alpha and there was a spread, drenched, panting, needy omega in front of him. He could yank his pants out of the way and fill her in one brutal thrust. She’d bury her nails in his back and demand he knot her, demand more, and he’d give her everything. He’d fuck her until she forgot Richard, until she had no room for fear or doubt because he’d fill every last inch of her.

But if she was too lost to argue, then she hadn’t agreed. It would erode any trust they’d built, so he’d stay put no matter what.

“That’s it, kitten,” he said in a voice he’d hoped was a purr but knew damned well was a growl. Even so, she showed no signs of fear, and her hips kept up that sexy, writhing, lifting thing so he didn’t stop the dirty talk. Let her hear every filthy thing he was thinking. “You look delicious, like the best fucking snack. God, what I would do for just a taste of your cunt. Your skin flushes something pretty, and I’m drowning in your scent.”

She thrust her hips up, the muscles in her firm thighs twitching. She was so close, he could see the strain on her face, the sweat on her brow, the panting of her chest through her baggy shirt, hell even her cunt twitched, like it was squeezing down, wanting to be filled. Even so, she couldn’t get there, couldn’t get over that last hurdle.

The struggle turned him on in a way that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t that he liked that she couldn’t get there—though he guessed he did, in a way, because the sight was a pretty one—but he wanted to help her. He wanted to see her lost to the pleasure, wanted to get her there himself.

“Let me help,” he all but begged in a broken voice, willing to drop to his knees and plead if that was what it took.

Her eyes opened, and all the lust there made him wonder if she’d heard him at all. “You won’t…”

He’d agree to anything right then. Power of attorney? His first born? His left nut? Anything to get closer. “Anything you want. I’ll do anything, kitten.”

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.

He frowned but nodded. Fine, I’ll make it work.

She reached out to give him the vibrator, and slickness near the end said her pussy was beautifully drenched.

He couldn’t touch her, but that didn’t mean he had to resist everything. As a hedonist, Mason had never been any good at resisting anything and denying himself anything. He swirled his tongue around the head of the toy, tasting her slick that coated it.

Delicious. It woke up even more of his instinct, made his knot fucking pulse with need, as though it could annoy him into giving in. Not happening, asshole, he reminded it before crawling onto the bed between her spread thighs.

The first touch of the vibrator to her body was tentative, exploratory. Each female was different, and he had to figure out what she liked. Fuck, he wanted to spend all night figuring out what she wanted, teasing her luscious body for hours until he could play her like an expert. He glided it along her slit, testing by pressing in just a hair. It wasn’t a great toy for penetration, too small and not shaped right for fucking her. Still, those vibrations would tease along her whole entrance, and he needed something inside her, to claim her somehow.

He pulled it back and moved it up, toying around her clit, avoiding the sensitive nub that peeked from beneath its hood.

How can I feel this out of control already? She’d used the toy on herself, and while it had gotten her close, she hadn’t quite fallen over that edge.

The moment Mason had picked it up, when he’d brushed it against her, she’d known she’d been lost, any attempt to resist pointless. The vibrations ran through her body like a sensual caress, and the memory of him licking her juices off it made her pussy throb in desperate want. He’d done it with his gaze locked to hers, a promise in those whiskey-colored eyes.

He brought the toy to her clit, positioned to the side but firmly against the base. The vibrations sank deep into her, teasing her and overtaking her.

“That’s right, kitten,” he said above her moaning, above the filthy, wet sounds of him pleasuring her soaked body. “You’re going to come for me, ain’t you? It’ll break you apart, because you need it, because it’s been so long, but damn, it’ll feel good. Let it happen, stop fighting it.” His words might have made her laugh any other time.

Fight it? There was no way to fight the overwhelming pleasure he pushed into her nervous body, to fight the way he knew exactly where to stroke her with that toy, how to use it to torment her needy clit, to drive her body to a high she was afraid she’d never come down from. It was a madness spreading through her, a lust she’d never experienced before. Sex had been okay with Richard at the start, but it had never been this.

Mason ground the vibrator against her body, against the side of her clit, and she broke apart just as he’d said she would.

Her orgasm grew, prolonged by how he lightened the touch but brushed the toy against her swollen clit directly. She lifted her hips in broken, feral thrusts, her cunt pulsing and squeezing around nothing. She crushed the blankets in her fists as she tried to hang on to something, to keep some shred of control while her body shorted out beneath Mason’s skillful touch.

Nothing worked, though, and the movement of the toy said Mason wasn’t planning on giving her any way to resist him.

The orgasm went on so long that she pulled in a deep gasping breath when her muscles finally loosened, when her back lost its arch and she fell down limp on the bed.

He removed the vibrator immediately, giving her tired and overworked body a much-needed break. Again, he lifted it to his mouth and licked it clean, a wolfish grin on his full lips that matched his wild appearance.

The sight made her cunt tighten, and even exhausted as she was, she wanted more. She wanted to feel him push into her, to spread her pussy around his thick cock.

And, no, she wasn’t ready for that to really happen, yet she still wanted it desperately.

“You look good when you come,” he said in his deep, rough voice.

She dropped her gaze to find his erection tenting his sweats like a gift.

A gift? I always thought about that as more of an obligation. And yet, she wanted to see him. She wanted to peel the fabric away, to have nothing obscuring her view. She wanted to drag her tongue along his length, to have the same obvious pleasure he’d had when he’d swallowed down the taste of her he’d gotten.

“Don’t worry about that,” he assured her. “Can’t help getting hard, but I’m not about to jump on you just because I helped you get off.”

“You could take care of it,” she said before she could think better of it.

“Here?” His eyebrow lifted. “You have a thing for watching? Will I get my own page in your sketchbook if I do?”

She pushed herself to sitting, not wanting to talk while she was lying flat, in a position of powerlessness. “Please?”

He sniffed deeply, the action primitive. Heat flashed brighter in his eyes as his smile widened. “You’re not quite done yet, are you?”

“No. But, I’m not ready to—”

“I won’t fuck you. You think I could touch you this time, though?”

She hesitated, and he waited. He didn’t push her or try to coax a yes as she thought about it, as she decided if she wanted that. Then again, he’d had every chance to hurt her, to ignore her wishes, but he’d kept his word to her. He hadn’t touched her when he’d helped her, even though his erection screamed that he’d wanted to.

Agreeing took more bravery than she’d thought she had, yet a moment later, Tracy nodded. “Just on the outside,” she said quickly, needing some rules, some control.

“Sure, kitten, that’ll be more than enough.” He grasped her hips and pulled, causing her to fall backward and slide down the bed.

He might have frightened her, but his playful grin made it hard to be startled or angry. It left her lying flat on her back with Mason poised between her legs, a hulking presence that would have panicked her before. The way he’d moved her had shown just how strong the man was, as if his massive body hadn’t already clued her in.

Now? Still basking in the glow of her first orgasm in too many years, she could appreciate his looks for what they were.

Because he was good-looking. His body was large, with little room for finesse. He was pure brute strength, with a broad chest layered in muscle and wide shoulders that went down to biceps easily larger than her thighs. His hair, wild and long and a lovely reddish-blonde, hung down as he rested over her. She leaned up on an elbow to get a look down his body, as well.

Mason pushed his sweats down his thick thighs to let her see everything else.

His waist didn’t narrow much, all of him big. His thighs showed the separation in the muscles, his quads standing out, rigid as though holding still were difficult. He had hair on his thighs, the same that dusted his arms and his chest—light brown, almost blond. Her gaze traveled up his thighs to the thatch of reddish hair at his groin, and to the intimidating length of his long, thick cock. It seemed he was large all over, and the way his shaft stood erect, pressed against his lower stomach and so hard it had to ache made her moan.

Still, nothing but desire swam inside her. No hint of uncertainty, no worry. That surprised her. Did lust shove that all away so nothing else had room? Or did she trust him more than she realized?

Whatever the reason, when Mason stroked his fingers up her sex and wrapped his other large palm around his cock, she didn’t fear. She surrendered to the touch, to the gentle way he ran his fingers across her core, like she mattered. He didn’t push in, didn’t try to take more than she’d been willing to give. His fingers were strong and sure as they explored her folds, never trying to gain entrance or take what hadn’t been offered but instead teasing every wet, wanton inch of her sex.

His other hand stroked his thick cock, though even with his large hand, his fingers didn’t quite meet when gripping it. That alone gave her pause, but the head of his dick disappearing into his palm then reappearing drove away her moment of concern.

She slid her tongue along her bottom lip, and he answered with a deep, masculine growl.

“This is a sight I won’t ever forget, kitten. You make one pretty picture, all spread out for me, and I’ve never felt anything as good as your pussy. You’re so fucking wet for me, ain’t you?” He danced his fingers up to her clit, but even so, the touch remained indirect and teasing. “And your taste? Oh, kitten, I can’t wait to eat you out, to swallow down mouthfuls of your sweetness.”

His words sparked the thought, and she whined at how he’d look between her legs, staring up her body. His eyes, intense and wild, while those full lips of his, usually pulled into a smirk, would do something more interesting.

His hand sped on his impressive cock, and he stopped touching her to set that hand on the mattress, crowding over her. “This okay?” he asked, voice broken and rough.

Right then, everything was okay, so she nodded. The ease drained when the blunt head of his cock touched her pussy, when years of having Richard respect none of her boundaries crashed over her.

He stilled above her, so close they were nearly in missionary position. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

When had she closed them? She did as he said, looking up into his familiar whiskey-colored ones.

“Trust me, Tracy. I’m not going to fuck you. I won’t take anything you ain’t giving.” He leaned down and trailed a kiss across her lips. “Trust me?”

When he didn’t do anything, when he waited, Tracy shuddered out a tension-filled breath and nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised. “You’re so fucking brave. Now relax, hmm? I think you’ll like this.”

She still tensed, waiting for him to break that promise, to shove himself into her, to do what came natural despite her limits or his promises.

Instead, the first press of his cock to her clit sent her clutching hands to his chest. It wasn’t a protest, and she didn’t shove him away.

Mason waited, as though giving her time to decide if she liked it.

She did. It didn’t take more than a split second for her to be sure she enjoyed the feeling of his hard cock grinding against her clit, a caress even more intimate than the vibrator, than his fingers had been.

“So you want me to keep going?”

She nodded.

“I want you to ask me to.”

Her lips parted, but words wouldn’t come. Asking for things was difficult. It was participating, and it was admitting her desires, and if she admitted them, they could be used against her. No one could tell her no if she never asked.

He brought the hand braced on the bed to her cheek, using his elbow to hold himself up instead. “Not used to asking for shit, are you?” His voice held no censure, no annoyance. If anything, it got kinder. “You gotta learn to ask—that way we both know you want it. I’ll make it easy on you here—just ask me to keep doing that. Nothing hard about those words, is there?”

Tracy drew in a breath as she considered it. She’d have given up any other time, retreated to her own safe, lonely rut, but the simmering desire inside her, the sensation of his cock brushing her clit said she would play along if it meant more of this. “Please keep doing that?”

“Oh, I like the please. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He stroked his length again and took the opportunity to grind the wet head against her nub.

Pleasure sparked inside her, like currents of electricity that streaked through her body, travelling along her nerves. His cock leaked pre-cum, and she would swear it soaked into her like a balm she’d desperately needed.

She shifted her hands so that instead of pressing them against his chest, she slid them back to grasp his shoulders, testing the hard muscles there, amazed by the differences between their bodies. He was hard, large and confident. She was soft, small and unsure.

His facial hair tickled her as he stole a kiss, coaxing her with his lips as he used his cock to bring her nearer to that edge again.

And she wanted it. She needed to lose herself to another release after going so long without. She wanted to be so tired, so mindless and sated that she could do nothing but sleep happily.

The grinding of his cock against her clit pushed her toward that marvelous release. “I’m close,” he said against her lips, the words a kiss all their own. “You want me to back off?”

The thought of him pulling back, of him moving even an inch away made her dig her nails in to keep him close. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.

“See, you can ask for what you want, kitten. Sure, I’ll stay.” A deep groan left his lips, her hips rising in response to the masculine sound of pleasure. “Your cunt will look good painted with my cum.”

His words had an immediate reaction for them both. For her, an especially hard drag of his cock against her clit had her gasping, her muscles tensing right on the precipice of release. Mason’s hand moved faster, almost frantic, and caused his solid dick to grind harder.

He came first with a growl, his hot cum spilling onto her waiting pussy. That sent her over, the sensation of his warm seed soaking into her, the way his lips stopped any movement, as though all his attention was taken up by his orgasm.

Tracy cried out as she came a second time, this one harsher, stealing her breath and thoughts as her back arched up against Mason’s solid form.

He didn’t stop the gentle nudges of his softening cock against her, the action rubbing his hot, thick cum into her skin. His weight settled on her, his body pressing against hers fully for the first time.

It again reminded her of just how large he was, of how much smaller she was.

She could have started to second guess it, but after the orgasms he’d gifted her with, the ones he’d wrung from her nervous body, she lacked energy to do so.

Instead, she licked his bottom lip, a sweet thank you, and settled in.

He cleaned her off once he’d caught his breath, the stroke of the rag against her over-sensitive pussy too much. The loss of his heat made her whine unhappily, missing his solid body. Only him slinging his heavy arm over her made her smile, when he’d returned to the bed and crawled in beside her.

I could get used to this.