FORTY FIVE – A CHANGED MASON?

MIRA

Mason's kiss leaves me oddly breathless, and craving for more.

My core hasn't stopped throbbing, and my thighs ache with the need to wrap then around his strong, muscled body.

I fly to the bathroom, hurriedly taking off my clothes and sinking into the large, French tub. The hot water sluices over my skin, and I moan with pleasure.

I lather with the Jasmine scented soap absently, imagining the wickedly hot things Mason Lachlan might do to me when he finally arrives.

Will he eat me out while I come until I have nothing left to give like the last time? Will he thrust those expert, blunt fingers straight through my G-spot? Will he spank my arse until it glows a decadent red, and all I feel are delicious, pin pricks of pleasure in my core, while my pain fades into distant memory?

Will he bend me over one of the marble sinks while his hot, hard cock pounds into me over and over again?

Mason and I haven't actually had sex yet, and I am relieved. But at the same time, I'm beginning to