Downfall | ✔️

Chapter 47.

I whimper against his lips as his fingers trace patterns on my skin, his lips disconnect from mine momentarily as he takes a second to look at me; my body aching in the absence of his lips on my skin.

As if reading my mind, his lips find their way to my neck, sucking slowly and causing a small moan to escape my lips. He lets go of his grip on my arms, pulling my shirt over my head as he kicks off his shoes. His lustful gaze settles on my lace bra—his finger tracing over the pattern.

"You drive me fucking crazy, Amara." he pants, the same insatiable smile that he wears in moments like these creeping onto his face.

I bite my lip, tearing his shirt from his body, the fabric clings so well to his muscles, the perfectly sculpted ripples on his chest; but I dare say I prefer it on the floor.

His hands grip my waist once more as I fumble with his belt buckle, desperately trying to undo it—the anticipation of what's to come eating me alive. I unthread it from his pants and throw it onto the floor to join his shirt.

Mason's stare remains on me, flickering from my eyes to my lips; he kneels to the ground slowly, his hands gliding down my thighs.

He unbuttons my jeans, pulling them down effortlessly in one sweep, removing them like a true pro. His smirk grows as his eyes settle on my matching lace panties. "I truly can't wait..," he hooks his finger around the band, "To rip these straight off of you."

"Then do it," I pant, his eyes moving back up to mine as he stands himself back up. "Please."

He presses his finger against my lips gently, "Patience, Amara—it's not quite time yet." his deep voice alone sends shivers down my spine.

His lips press against my neck, slowly moving to my chest—down to my stomach, then finally to my thighs. He leaves a trail of wet kisses all over my body; his hands travelling all the right places. "You should've told me about those texts." he whispers lowly.

"I know," I whimper.

"Good." he spits with demand behind his voice.

"Now," his face closes in on mine, "Lets teach you to behave."

I gasp at his sudden movements, he sweeps his arms under my thighs, pressing my back against the wall, hard, as my legs wrap around his torso. Every movement he makes is rough, this is out of anger.

This is his way of letting out our frustration, he's teaching me a lesson; and if this is the way he wants to fix our problem—consider me more than okay with his methods.

He slips my underwear off with one hand, the other keeping my place firmly against the wall. The way he's so dominant, so demanding—it's driving me crazy. He takes a foil packet from his pocket and rips it open with his teeth, sliding it on with ease.

My anticipation is fuelled by his authoritative demeanour, I can feel his erection pressed against my inner thigh; and the growing smirk on his face tells me that he knows exactly what he's doing.

This is his revenge, and I'll be damned if it's not the best revenge I've ever had.

"I think you've learned your lesson, don't you?" he whispers against the nape of my neck.