“It’s not enough,” I say, my voice all rough and raspy. “I want to give you more.” I dot kisses across his chest and down his abdomen. Down, down, down, until I hit the lottery. “You don’t have to,” Mason says, the words pained. “If you don’t want to.” “Shut up and lie back,” I command him. Of course I fucking want to. Last night, he let me ride his mouth like a circus act on a unicycle. It’s my absolute pleasure to return the favor right now. When I yank on the waistband of his shorts, he lets out a grunt, but he shifts subtly to help me pull them down and toss them to the floor.
