The Sanctuary of Secrets
865 Words
The heavy door of the SUV thuffed shut, cutting off the chill of the rain and the dull hum of the city. Inside, the cabin was a cocoon of leather, warm air, and the overwhelming, heady scent of Mason—sandalwood, dark rain, and clean cotton.
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain he could hear it over the quiet purr of the engine.
Mason didn't put the car in drive immediately. He leaned back into his seat, one hand resting heavily on the top of the steering wheel, his dark coat falling open. The dim illumination of the dashboard lights bathed his side profile in sharp shadows, emphasizing the harsh line of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders.
"Where are we going?" I managed to ask, my hands clasped tightly in my lap to hide their trembling. "Mason, Jade called again. My phone is vibrating in my coat pocket right now."
"Let it vibrate," he said smoothly. He shifted, his body turning toward me. The space in the front seat suddenly felt agonizingly small. "You're not going to that dinner looking like a ghost, Nora. And you're not leaving this car until you tell me why your hands were shaking when you walked out of your building."
"I was cold—"
"Don't," he cut in, his voice dropping an octave, rich and velvety against the quiet interior. "Don't lie to me. Not after three weeks ago. Not after what we did."
A heat flushed up my neck, scorching and sudden. The memory of his mouth on mine, of his hands gripping my hips against that cold brick wall, hit me like a physical blow.
Before I could move, Mason reached across the center console. His long, calloused fingers slid over my knee, traveling slowly up the denim of my jeans until his thumb rested against the inside of my thigh. The touch was agonizingly deliberate—a warm, heavy anchor that made every nerve ending in my body ignite.
"Mason..." I gasped, my back arching slightly off the seat.
"Look at me, Nora," he commanded softly.
I turned my head, locking eyes with him. In the dim light, his iris seemed almost black, wide with a hunger he wasn't trying to hide anymore.
"You haven't looked at me properly since that night," he murmured, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles into my inner thigh, pressing just hard enough to send a liquid tremor straight between my legs. "You ran out of the party before the sun came up. You dodged my calls. And now you're sitting here, terrified of my sister, terrified of me."
"I'm terrified of what we're doing," I whispered, my voice breaking. My hand moved on instinct, covering his, feeling the veins standing out on the back of his hand. But instead of pushing him away, my fingers intertwined with his. "She trusts me, Mason. She's marrying him in six months, and we... we destroyed everything."
"She doesn't know," Mason said, his gaze dropping to my mouth. "And as long as you pull yourself together, she won't know."
"And what if she finds out?" The question hung between us, heavy with the weight of the secret currently sitting hidden in my makeup bag.
Mason didn't answer right away. His hand shifted, his fingers gliding up further, pulling the hem of my skirt up just enough to trace the bare skin exposed above my stockings. His fingertips were warm, dragging lightly over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I bit my lower lip hard to keep a moan from escaping.
"She won't," he rasped, his eyes darkening as he watched my reaction. "I'll handle Jade. I'll handle the family. But right now, you are going to breathe. You're going to let me take care of you for thirty minutes."
"We can't do this," I gasped as his touch crept higher, his palm cupping the curve of my thigh, squeezing firmly. The friction sent a sharp wave of pleasure pooling in my low belly, so intense it made my toes curl inside my boots. "We can't... not in the car, not here..."
"I'm not touching you to break you, Nora," he whispered, leaning across the console until his lips were brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. "I'm touching you because if I don't, I'm going to lose my mind thinking about how wet you were for me three weeks ago."
My breath hitched violently. The sheer boldness of his words made my blood turn to liquid fire.
He didn't pull back. His hand slid higher, the back of his knuckles gently pressing against the apex of my thighs through my thin lace underwear. A quiet, desperate whimper escaped my throat before I could stop it.
"That's it," Mason growled into my neck, his lips tracing a path down to my collarbone, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to the pulsing vein at the base of my throat. "Let me feel what you're hiding from me..."
- Writer
