Love Meets You part 2

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18.

* Mason *

Mason felt like an idiot, sitting in his car instead of knocking on Angela Stone’s door. Clover insisted on taking a cab to her therapist, and he understood why. In case he lost his shit after hearing she had sex with Bentley. He knew they fucked. He didn’t blame her, what could she have done to fend him off?

The only thing he really dreaded was Stone asking him questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Bentley set him up, and if he were anyone else, would be behind bars already. Luckily, the authorities weren’t interested in a shady rich inventor, too hungry for another kind of criminal.

Steeling himself, he got out of the car and strode confidently to the front door. A gray-haired woman in a long flowing pink dress smiled warmly at him in greeting. He caught sight of Clover loitering in the other room. A sunroom by the looks of it, the view beyond bright, unlike his mood.

“Call me Angela,” she shook his hand firmly.

He cleared his throat, “Mason, nice to meet you. I’m glad Clover found someone she enjoys speaking with.”

The woman shrugged, “She’s a fighter. Come in, would you like tea or…?”

He hated tea, “I’m fine, thank you.”

Fuck, he was sweating. Clover sat in an overstuffed chair, wearing a tight pair of ripped jeans and band tee that would have had his dick hard if it weren’t for mixed company. He kissed her cheek before resting opposite Angela in a comfortable armchair.

“Clover mentioned you went out on a date last night,” She fished for an easy opening, one he had no trouble with.

He smirked at Clover who grinned in return, making his chest loosen, “It had its ups and downs but we agreed to start small. Any time she wants to spend with me is special.”

Angela beamed, “That’s smart. How has it been moving back into your apartment, Clover?”

Clover inhaled, rubbing her palms on her pants, then spilled her truth. He was surprised to learn she could no longer sleep in the dark, frightened of unfamiliar noises as well. She kept giving him hesitant glances, explaining how her assailants cuffed her to a fucking wall for days without food or water. Mason’s thoughts turned murderous, only becoming worse after she confessed to lashing out at people who triggered Bentley’s orders for her to act sweet.

“It’s normal to try to break the conditioning by acting out,” Angela calmly informed them. “Talking about it, rationalizing why is healthy Clover.”

He nodded along, feeling nauseated, and needing to hurt someone. Clover must have picked up his anger because she stood and paced. Angela remained perfectly relaxed, sipping her tea.

“I can’t find the words,” she muttered.

“What?” he clenched his hands, “You told me you needed to unload and I want to hear it all. I won’t say anything.” he glanced at Angela to see if he suggested right, and she gave him a sharp nod.

“He… Bentley made me call him Sir! We had to obey!” she huffed, “I kinda pissed him off a little...”

“No,” Angela interrupted and Clover looked scared, “You’ve come this far. Don’t downplay your issues by not detailing your experience.”

Did he need the dirty details? This was harder than he imagined. He schooled his features to appear unbiased. This must tear her up inside, and he owed it to her to receive it all.

Clover covered her eyes, blurting out in a voice that bruised his soul how Bentley beat her and four others if she argued. Bentley had forced her to take off her clothes, then shoved her into a cage when she balked. It went on and on how he made her feel lost, alone but not with him. No, Bentley, her fucking SIR wanted her to fall in love with him. He let her come, screaming his name, and she liked it. After that, shit really got out of hand when Reese grabbed up a steak knife in a fit of jealousy, finally ending the horror.

Clover collapsed into the chair, not meeting his astounded gaze, “They found Alisha and Reese, but Delia and Polly will probably never be seen again.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Angela softly reminded her, “You couldn’t help them then or now. Mason,” she swung her sympathetic eyes to him, “Are you okay?”

He felt like murdering Bentley, but that was nothing new, “So, you never slept with anyone while you were there?”

She frowned, “No. God, you’re such a guy.”

He clenched his jaw, growling out, “I’m asking politely if they raped you.”

Her pretty cheeks flushed pink, “Oh… No.”

Angela held up a hand, “What Bentley did to you was rape, Clover. You need to accept the facts.”

She jumped to her feet again, “He asked me.”

Fury at her self-condemnation had him standing as well. “Is that why you freaked out the other night? Bentley asked if he could kiss you and you said yes?”

“I didn’t want to!” she snarled, “He locked me in his fucking bedroom, and it was a hell of a lot better than a freezing cell with a urine-stained mattress.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he sighed, wanting to hold her, but her vibe was unstable. “I’m not angry or upset, even if you enjoyed it. I’m trying to understand.” He lied, displeased by her admissions, but none of what happened was her fault.

“How, when I don’t?” she threw her hands in the air, “He wanted me to love him Mason, and I think if I stayed any longer with him I would have.”

Her confession stunned him into silence. Angela didn’t offer advice, so he harshly questioned her to prove a point, “Would it have been real? Would fucking him while he sold girls turn you on? Is hitting you and letting you starve in the dark if he became pissed off a kink you’re into?”

She turned nearly purple with rage, “Of course not!

“That’s the type of sick devotion Bentley’s looking for!” he shouted, “I wish I knew where that prick is at so I can kill him!”

Tears streamed down her face as she hissed, “Do you see why I waited to contact you, Mason? How can you stand to look at me knowing I liked him? It only lasted for a minute — but I hate myself!”

Something clicked, and he hated they weren’t alone. The only reason she struggled with guilt was that she hadn’t saved the other women. He understood, but the other shit? She made Bentley her bitch, savage when pushed too far. He never forced her to sleep with him or touched her without permission. Bentley was a calculating bastard, but she wrapped that asshole around her middle finger. Reese only lost her mind because the cunt had actual feelings for him.

She could spend years gabbing to this kind-hearted psychiatrist about the why’s of her survivor’s remorse, but she didn’t require coddling. Clover needed someone to tell her, although the outcome sucked; she came out of a screwed up situation stronger for it. His girl was a badass with fuck all to be ashamed of. He might have tucked away his deviant side for business suits and million-dollar deals, but like recognized like.

He ignored Angela, grabbing Clover so she could hold him, or him onto her — at this point, they both needed support, “I don’t blame you sweetheart, and you shouldn’t either. Bentley fucked with your heart and head and I’ll tell you some facts,” he cupped her snot-filled face in his hands, “you ARE sweet. You are also intelligent, and worth more than you give yourself credit for. You’re so kind and I won’t allow you to fall further into his trappings. Stick with me, and I will remind you of how beautiful a person you are every day, babe.”

And show you how to be a proper misfit.

She laugh-cried, snot flying onto his cheek, but he didn’t give a fuck. Angela handed them some Kleenex, and she shyly chuckled again, swiping at his cheeks.

He jerked her close when she settled a little imploring, “Please, let those twisted notions go. What happened was beyond terrible, but you can move on. Right, Angela?”

The therapist beamed at them, “I think this has been a productive conversation.”

He kissed the top of Clover’s head, “I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you a lot more too, huh?”

Clover’s smile was wide and warm when he gazed down on her, erasing any lingering doubt their relationship wouldn’t mend. Mason meant it when he told her she was his and that he would always take care of her, even if he had to endure therapy sessions.

Once she learned his secrets, they’d need a shit load more.



* Clover *

Clover stuck her tongue out at her image in the full-length mirror, mindful of the fact she needed to cut back on carbs. When Mason and she went out, she ate as if she’d never see another hamburger or taco again. She had always been a stress eater — but shit was getting out of hand.

Sighing, she finished fastening up the black garter belt. Tonight, she was determined to get into bed with Mason. She wanted this last step in their relationship to happen. Horny didn’t begin to describe how bitchy her lady parts were.

Mason had taken her ‘going slow’ idea determinedly, and it’d been a month of frustrating teasing. She honestly didn’t know how he did it. Every time he left her, he sported a hard-on and she would tsk, purring she’d gladly handle his stiff situation but he’d just give her a firm kiss goodbye, leaving them both wanting. Enough!

The FBI officially pulled back, and Mason began pleading for her to move in with him. She stubbornly refused. Sure, his building was secure, and his penthouse magazine-worthy, but not her style. She flipped at the voice-activated appliances and heated tile in the bathrooms and had a good laugh at the chandelier hanging in one of his guest rooms. He’d grumbled none of the interior designs came from his ideas, except for the massive plush sofa in the sunken living room. The view from the expansive terrace was without a doubt the best in the city, but she liked her own space. He asked every day though, even if by text sometimes. It was as cute as it was annoying. Aurora, of course, called her stupid for saying no.

After slipping on a slinky black dress, certain Mason would go nuts over it, she heard a knock at the door. She checked her watch, noting he wasn’t due for another hour. She peered through the spyglass, frowning at the empty walkway. What the hell? A creepy feeling of someone watching her skittered down her spine, and she backed away from the doorway.

She quickly picked up her phone, calling Mason. As soon as he answered, she explained the odd disturbance. Anyone else would have proposed a neighbor stopped by or she had a package delivered, but not him. He ordered her to double-check the locks, cutting a meeting short to be with her. She loved his protective side.

She wished her damn nerves would chill out. Mason’s presence usually cast her irrational fears aside, but with Bentley and Kyrell on the loose, couldn’t shake the thought terrible events were heading their way. What if she dropped her defenses, and they kidnapped her again? Why hadn’t the police caught those dickwads yet?

Ten minutes later Mason let himself inside. She had given him a key to her apartment, even going so far as telling the nosy woman in the leasing office. He did not appreciate her dedication to upholding rules.

“Saw nothing,” he straightened his dark blue suit jacket before zeroing in on her revealing gown, “Fuck Clover, what are you doing? Holy shit.”

She smirked, “What do you mean?”

The hungry expression on his handsome face made her shiver, her panties becoming wet as he stomped over to capture her mouth. She ran her fingers lightly over his growing erection, showing him exactly what was on the menu tonight. Hint — not oysters, although she hoped he sucked her pearl before the night ended.

“Saucy minx,” he growled, “You didn’t make it up, did you?”

She shoved his shoulder, “Are you calling me a liar? I swear someone knocked at my door. Thanks for coming. I should’ve just ignored it.”

“No, never let down your guard, well,” he cupped her ass, tugging her dress up a little, “Unless it’s with me.”

“There are a bunch of things I’ll let down for you,” she purred, reaching for his zipper.

He tutted, snatching her hands, “What about our date?”

“What about how wet I am?” she countered.

His eyes flashed with heat, grunting, “We can’t have you out in public like that.”

“Especially if I’m not wearing any panties,” she whispered, knowing he would lose it.

He did, kissing her with force until her back struck a wall, “Unzip me, sweetheart.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She giggled as he nipped and licked along her neck and collarbone as she unzipped his slacks. She reached in, finding his cock hot and hard for her. He groaned, chasing her tongue. She pushed, and he stepped backward so she could fall to her knees.

“We can go to bed?” he suggested — but planted his shiny shoes in place for her next course of action. She admired his muscular form from her spot on the floor, ready to do very naughty stuff with him.

“We could… or I can suck your dick like it’s my favorite kind of lollipop?” she had heard Aurora say that line one once and using it now sounded a lot cheesier than her friend made it sound.

He went to retort but hissed instead as she sampled the pre-cum glistening on his wide mushroom tip, before slowly licking a path to the veiny underside, “Yum, I missed your flavor.”

“Fuck, Clover!” his palms landed on the wall with a thump, “Do that again.”

She smiled to herself as she sucked him inside her mouth, swirling her tongue with fervor. She lost herself in the smell and taste of Mason. He jutted his hips forward, his girth hitting the back of her throat, and she moaned through the discomfort. She wanted him badly, snaking a hand down to touch herself. It’d been too long since she’d allowed herself any gratification.

“No fucking way!” She squeaked in alarm, suddenly in Mason’s arms as he marched towards the bedroom, “Time to get reacquainted with this sexy body. Take off that dress before I rip it.”

She quickly shed her clothes when her feet hit the ground. He took in her lingerie with a ferocious grin, undressing too, “Nice, but keep stripping. How did I get so lucky? On the bed, now.”

He fell on top of her, reclaiming her lips. She wriggled her tits in his face, impatient to have him. They’d go slow later. Though, Mason had never shown restraint in the past. Their lovemaking had always been wild.

“What do you want Clover?” he growled, sliding his dick against her soaked folds, her cream lubing his straining erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” she panted.

“What if I make love to you?” he peered into her eyes without blinking.

She melted, “I want that too. Please, Mason. I need you.”

She didn’t have to ask twice either as he slammed inside with one powerful punch. They both sighed at the sensation before his groans filled the room as he pinned her down by gripping her neck. She shallowly inhaled, turned on by the dominance he asserted.

“I love you, baby,” he breathed into her ear, running his palm down to her thigh, yanking it high so he struck a spot so perfect stars lit her vision. Dayum, the man knew exactly what to do with that big dick of his.

She arched her back, feeling as if her heart would overflow, “I love you.”

He stilled mid-thrust, his hand moving up to her caress her cheek, “Do you?” his warm honey eyes looked amazed.

“I do,” she kissed him, “So much.”

He sneaked his free arm under her ass, lifting so when he moved, he stretched her to capacity. She cried out, and his mouth captured her lusty pleas. “I’m going to love the shit out of you,” he promised, grunting as his hips snapped over and over, driving her into the mattress, “Starting with this tight pussy. Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours!” she swore, coiling her fingers in his soft dark brown hair, “Always have been!”

“About fucking time you admitted it,” he tweaked her pebbled nipples, “We’re not leaving this bed until you can’t walk.”

Oh, shit. Yeeesss! Her inner slut high-fived the perfectly executed plan for turning Mason into an unrestrained beast. The long weeks of dancing around their sexual frustrations finally unraveled, and now they held nothing back.

Clover realized he meant business when her first orgasm burst through her, leaving her a limp mess. He only laughed, flipping her over to continue. “Show me that ass, sweetheart.”

“Only if you spank me.”

He didn’t hesitate to follow orders, smacking her rear so hard she had to bury her face in the covers or alarm her neighbors. “Again?” he rubbed the sore flesh, “Fuck, I love this side of you. You’re so damn sexy.”

“More!” she begged, “Make me forget. Give me your worst. Then hook me with your best.”

He kissed the middle of her spine, whispering, “I plan to. I’ll always give you what you need.”

Each time she screamed and shuddered for him, it only seemed to fuel his craving for a repeat. He went down on her after her second orgasm, zealously licking her into another one until tears of joy erupted. They weren’t simply fucking. Together they unleashed months’ worth of interrupted passion, their bodies knitting an unspoken pact. A bond neither saw coming but accepted. They could never let each other go now, their possessiveness for each other had grown until nobody else on the planet would do.

They were not a normal couple.

She caught on fairly quickly after their initial session with Angela that they both hid wicked mentalities. One evening, with a light shining bright to chase away shadows, they’d cuddled close, whispering revenge plans against the men who abducted her. Most entailed missing organs and fire. Bentley’s demise at their hands would rival some of the choicest torture recorded in history.

Staring into bronze eyes, riding his length until she was certain her womb would feel it for days, she scored her nails down his tight abs, yanking out his chest hairs in the process. She giggled in sadistic delight when he hissed in shock, huskily asking, “Would you bleed for me?”

“No doubt,” he panted, gripping her hips harder in response, “Would you?”

“Haven’t I? Come, fill me up.”

“Say my name,” he jerked her arms behind her back, sitting up so he had complete control, “Tell me who you love.”

Massson,” she purred, slanting her pelvis as she impaled herself over and over on his thickening member, striking her clit just right, “Yes, fuck yes! Oh, Mason!”

“Shit! Does me in every time! God-fucking-dammit!” he roared as he came, buried so deep she could scarcely breathe. His hot cum pumped into her channel, and she tightened her walls, holding his dick hostage. “Damn baby, you’re killing me. Ease off choking my cock.”

“Who owns what now?” she snickered.

He smacked her ass hard before allowing her to slide off his sweaty body, his release leaking onto the sheets. She grunted, tugging him out of the wet spot. With a giggle, she hugged his heaving shoulders, and he plopped his head on her breasts.

“I love you,” her voice was hoarse, but she had to ask about something Bentley happened to shake loose, “Would it be weird if you tied me up next time?”

He shivered, coming down from the intensity of their lovemaking, “I’ll have a playroom erected at my place by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Nah. Put those fancy silky ties of yours to better use by tying me to your bedpost. You can wear them to work, thinking of all the kinky shit you did to me.”

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he chuckled, “Made special, just for me.”

She hummed in agreement, burying her face against the damp pillow, inhaling his masculine scent. “That makes you mine as well. Don’t forget I’m not afraid to cut a bitch, Mr. Thistle.” When she shifted on the mattress her sore bottom twinged and she whimpered. There was no way she was walking tonight.

“Mission accomplished,” he rumbled against her heated skin, as if reading her mind, “You’ve got ten minutes before we again.” She laughed, believing him joking until he bit her nipple a while later and dove between her thighs to eat her pussy as if oxygen was a luxury he didn’t need. Never in her life had a man worshiped her so reverently.

A pizza delivery boy around seventeen years old received a good look at Clover’s fucked-until-I- can’t-move posture on the sofa while Mason smugly shoved a couple of twenties in his palm when they took a dinner break. He only wore his black boxers, despite her objections.

“Lucky bastard,” the kid muttered before Mason slammed the door in his face.

“Rude!” she teasingly admonished him.

“Fifteen minutes,” he warned, handing her the chicken wings she ordered with a wink, adjusting his hardening cock with a lick of his lips, “You should hydrate.”

She didn’t laugh this time.

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