He Came Back Running (Maya and Mason) novel Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Selina’s POV

The sitting room light was still on.

I saw it under the door before I reached it… amber glow of the lamp Mason kept on when he was waiting rather than sleeping…

I stopped in the corridor for one moment and composed myself. Then I opened the door.

He was on the sofa…. The baby asleep beside him in the portable bassinet, chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of complete, untroubled sleep.

The television playing something neither of us would remember. Mason sitting upright with his elbows on his knees, looking at me with the expression I had been dreading since I left… not angry, not hurt.

Waiting…

The worst kind.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

His voice was level this time. Careful.

The register he used when he had been sitting with a question long enough to strip the emotion from it and get down to the architecture….

“I told you.” I crossed to the armchair across from him and sat. Not the sofa…. the distance was useful. “Work. It couldn’t wait.”

“At night….”

He looked at me.

I held the look….

“You left in the middle of….” He stopped. “You left very quickly”

“I know”

I kept my voice soft. Apologetic in the register that communicated regret without specifics. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. The call was time-sensitive.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“You’ve been different lately,” he said.

“I’ve had a newborn for a month or more” I said. “Different is the appropriate response to that.”

“Not that kind of different.”

I looked at him.

At the face I knew better than any other face….. the jaw, the eyes, the specific quality of Mason Hargrove when he was deciding whether to push or accept. I had read this face for four years. I had learned which version of a conversation to offer when each version of him appeared.

This version needed reassurance before it needed answers…

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I stood up.

Crossed to the sofa.

Sat beside him.

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He watched me do it without moving….

I put my hand on his arm.

“Mason.” I said his name the way he needed to hear it… not the operational register, not the strategic one. The real one, underneath all the rest. “You are the only thing in my life that I have never once had to pretend about.”

He looked at me

“Everything else,” I said, “I have managed. Calculated. Arranged. You have always been the one real thing.” I held his gaze. “Whatever is worrying you tonight, I need you to know that.”

He looked at me for a long moment

The tension in his jaw shifted….

Not gone… moved somewhere else, somewhere he was choosing not to pursue tonight.

He reached out and touched my face.

I closed my eyes…

What followed was the kind of thing that happened when two people stopped negotiating and simply reached for each other.

Not slow…. we had both been carrying too much for slow. The weeks of pressure and strategy and the specific, grinding weight of plans in motion came off like a second skin and underneath it was just this… his hands and my hands and the specific, undeniable warmth of two people who had built something together and were reminding themselves what the building was for.

He pulled me close and I went, and the distance I had maintained all evening dissolved in the specific way distance dissolved when it stopped being necessary.

He was not gentle…

Neither was I.

I might have been bad at everything else, but sex wasn’t one of them. Probably one of the reasons why Mason loved me

The thought flickered through my mind like a dirty little secret as I dropped to my knees right there in the middle of our sitting room. He was already hard, thick cock straining against the front of his jeans, and the second I tugged the zipper down, it sprang free… hot, heavy, veined, the head already glistening with that first bead of pre- cum I loved to taste.

I looked up at him through my lashes, lips parted.

“Let me take care of you, baby”

Then I swallowed him.

My mouth stretched wide around his girth, tongue flattening along the underside as I took him to the back of my

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throat in one smooth glide…

Mason groaned, low and guttural, fingers threading into my hair. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked, slow and filthy, letting the wet sounds fill the room…obscene little slurps and gags that made my pussy clench hard.

I bobbed deeper, nose brushing the dark curls at his base, saliva dripping down my chin and onto my tits.

Every time he hit the back of my throat I moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk.

“Fuck, Serina… your mouth is sinful,” he rashed out…

I pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting my swollen lips to his throbbing cock. “Not done yet,” I whispered, and dove back in, twisting my head, swirling my tongue around the head, sucking just the tip until his thighs trembled.

We didn’t stay on the rug for long…

First switch

Mason hauled me up by the hair, spun me around, and bent me over the arm of the couch in the far corner by the window…. My dress was already rucked up around my waist, panties yanked to the side. He slammed into me from behind in one brutal thrust….thick, bare cock stretching my dripping cunt open.

I cried out, nails digging into the cushions as he fucked me hard and deep, hips slapping against my ass. Every stroke dragged along that perfect spot inside me, making my walls flutter and squeeze…

“Harder,” I gasped. “Fuck me like you own me”

He did

One hand fisted my hair, the other slapped my ass, leaving a stinging handprint that only made me wetter. The couch creaked under us. My tits swung free from my dress, nipples hard and aching…

Second switch

He pulled out, cock shiny with my cream, and dragged me across the room to the opposite corner by the bookshelves, I barely had time to catch my breath before he dropped onto the wide leather ottoman and pulled me on top, straddling him reverse cowgirl. I sank down onto his cock again, taking every inch until my ass was flush against his pelvis. My head fell back against his shoulder as I started riding…. slow rolls of my hips at first, then faster, bouncing, grinding, fucking myself on him like I was starving for it.

Mason’s hands roamed everywhere…. squeezing my tits, pinching my nipples, sliding down to rub tight circles over my swollen clit. “Look at you,” he growled against my ear, “soaking my cock, creaming all over me. Such a greedy little slut for me.”

I moaned louder, pussy clenching rhythmically around him. The wet sounds were louder here…… obscene squelching every time I slammed down. I could feel my juices dripping down his balls, coating his thighs. I leaned forward, bracing my hands on his knees, and fucked him harder, ass bouncing, back arched, giving him the filthiest view of his cock disappearing inside me over and over.

Third switch

He stood, still buried deep, and carried me… legs wrapped around his waist, cock spearing me with every step, to the last untouched corner by the tall potted plant and the floor-to-ceiling mirror. My back hit the cool wall. Mason hooked his arms under my knees, spreading me wide open, and started pounding up into me.

The new angle made me scream, his cock hitting so deep I swore I could feel him in my stomach

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I watched us in the mirror opposite…. my flushed face, my tits jiggling with every thrust, his powerful body driving into mine, sweat glistening on his chest. The sight alone pushed me closer to the edge

But he wasn’t done.

“Hold on, baby,” he rasped.

He lifted me completely off the floor, arms locked under my thighs, holding me suspended in the air like I weighed nothing. My back stayed pressed to the wall for balance as he started fucking me in earnest…. long, punishing strokes that made my toes curl.

One hand stayed under my ass, the other slid between us. His thick fingers found my clit and stroked it fast, slick and relentless, while his cock kept stretching and filling my pulsing cunt.

I was lost

My nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking in his grip. “Mason…. oh god, don’t stop…. right there….”

He fucked me harder, fingers rubbing my clit in tight, perfect circles, cock dragging along my g-spot with every upward thrust. My pussy fluttered wildly around him, getting tighter, wetter, louder.

“Cum for me, Serina,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.

I shattered….

The orgasm crashed through me like lightning… white-hot, blinding

My walls clamped down on him in rhythmic, milking spasms, squirting hot and messy all over his thrusting cock and his fingers.

I screamed his name, head thrown back, body convulsing in his arms.

Mason followed right behind me, burying himself to the hilt with a deep, broken groan. I felt him pulse inside me…. thick, hot ropes of cum flooding my spasming pussy, spilling out around his cock with every twitch.

He kept stroking my clit through it, drawing out every last shudder until I was sobbing with pleasure…

We stayed like that for a long moment…. me still impaled on him, trembling in his arms, his face buried in my neck, both of us breathing hard.

Then my legs gave out…

Mason lowered us gently to the rug, collapsing on top of me in a sweaty, cum-drenched heap. Our bodies were slick, hearts hammering against each other. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, mixing with my own wetness on the floor beneath us

By the end we were both breathing like we had been running, tangled in each other in the dim sitting room with the television still playing something neither of us would ever remember, and for a specific, real period of time the outside world was exactly as far away as it needed to be.

He fell asleep with his arm across me

I lay still and let him sleep and looked at the ceiling and thought.

The guilt arrived the way it always arrived, not dramatically, not as a revelation, but as the specific, low-level presence of something that lived in the background and occasionally insisted on being acknowledged.

Another woman had stood where I was standing.

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Not this apartment…. but beside this man, in this life, holding this position. Maya had been here first. Had loved him first, or tried to…

Had given him eight years of herself and received nothing back that resembled what I had just received.

I knew this….

I had always known it.

The knowing had not stopped me.

It would not stop me now

What stopped me…. what had always stopped me was not guilt but something more practical.

The understanding that guilt was a cost I was paying and would continue to pay, and the question was not whether I paid it but whether what I was paying for was worth it.

This life. His attention. His supposed son my child sleeping in the bassinet four feet away.

Worth it….

I pressed my hand to my chest.

Felt the guilt….

Set it aside.

Watched him sleep.

I reached for my phone.

Not the second phone…. I had not gone back for it yet, and I would retrieve it in the morning with the specific, casual energy of someone who had simply forgotten it and was collecting it without significance.

My personal phone

The message was waiting.

I had known it would be.

We are not done yet.

Four words

I stared at them in the dark, with Mason asleep beside me and the baby breathing steadily in the bassinet, with the warmth of the evening still on my skin and the guilt still sitting quietly in my chest.

We are not done yet.

No. We weren’t….

Daniel Cole was not done because Daniel Cole would not be done until there was nothing left to extract or nothing left of me to extract it from.

I put the phone face down…

Looked at the ceiling.

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The plan was simple.

Stay quiet. Stay careful. Keep the payments moving. Find the exit before the walls came down

The plan was the only thing I had.

I closed my eyes

Mason’s breathing was steady and even beside me.

I listened to it.

And I thought about exits.

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