Downfall | ✔️

Chapter 47.

"Yes." I pant.

"Perfect." he grins, thrusting himself into me abruptly; making me gasp. My head falls against his, our breaths matching as he brings me the most intense pleasure I've ever felt.

I grip his back, digging my nails in further with every thrust—my back slamming against the wall with our harsh movements. My fingers move to his hair as I tug on it roughly; his pleasurable moans filling my ears in waves, only fuelling us more.

My whole being is on fire, it feels as though his fingertips are touching every nerve in my body at once. My head is swimming from the pure ecstasy of Mason's body colliding with mine, the noises he makes sending shivers down my spine, the feeling of his lips on my neck making me tremble.

I tighten my legs around his waist as securely as I can handle, the high becoming almost blissfully unbearable. I lock my eyes with his; admiring his dark hair as it falls in waves against his face, his brown eyes colliding with honey droplets and earth kissed spirals—glowing with hunger and desire that send both shivers down your spine and wrap you in his warm embrace simultaneously. His breath is heavy as my legs lock into place.

"Fucking hell, Amara." he groans against my neck, the familiar euphoric waves building inside of me.

Just as we both reach our high, Mason slams me against the wall once more, causing a framed painting to smash onto the floor; neither of us flinch, we're too wrapped up in the moment. I roll my head back, letting out a noise I didn't know I was capable to making as we both come undone.

~~~~~~~

Mason places me down slowly, both of us trying to catch our breath. He cups my face with one hand—the same grin returning to his face.

"You're feverishly intoxicating, Amara—you flash me that fucking smile of yours and I'm drunk without a drop of alcohol touching my lips." he strokes my cheek with his thumb gently, my pulse quickening all over again. And with that, he drops his hand, handing me my shirt.

Both of our eyes fall to the broken photo frame, and the shards of glass that are scattered across the floor.

"I hope you didn't like that," Mason chuckles as he stares at the painting.

"It's actually always creeped me out a little." I smile.

"You better put some clothes on before Dawn struts through that door." he pokes my chest.

"Nothing she hasn't seen before, you on the other hand better make yourself decent." I snigger, stepping over the glass.

"Well if you want to be naked when she gets home so be it, let her put the pieces together," he raises a brow, before looking down at the glass, "No pun intended."

I roll my eyes and throw my clothes on, as does Mason. I grab a brush from the kitchen and begin sweeping up the pieces, just at that—the door opens.

"What the hell happened?" my mom gapes, Luke walking in closely behind.

"Um, we just.."

"We were play fighting and I bumped into it, sorry." Mason interrupts, again; thankfully.

"You two will be the death of me." she sighs, stepping over the glass and walking into the kitchen.

"Here," Luke takes the brush from my hand, "I do this pretty much every night at the bar, I'll get it."

"Thank you." I smile, thankful for the offer.

"I'll head back to my place, I guess. I'll text you later?" Mason chimes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sure." I smile.

I give him one last kiss, he turns back and makes a small tapping gesture on his neck before leaving. It takes me a moment to realise what he was trying to say, I look in the mirror and notice an oh-so familiar bruise on my neck, god damnit, Mason.

I make my way to my room to conceal the hickey he so thoughtfully left, wondering what I can do for the rest of the day. I decide to text Rebecca and Jess, I haven't seen them as much the past couple of weeks and I need to spend some more time around girls, whenever I'm around Mason too much I begin to talk like him, and that—is never a good thing.

*Girls night?* I send to the chat we made, it only has the three of us in it; we decided a group chat with all of our friends would end in war between Mason and Jake... or Elijah and Jake... or Matt and Jake. Spot the common denominator, anything to do with Jacob usually warrants constant bickering.

*Yes! I'll pick you both up.* Jess replies almost instantly.

*100%. Cant wait.* Becca closely follows.

*Should I bring nachos?* she adds, making me laugh.

*Knock yourself out, Bec.* I send, this is exactly what I need. A friends night.

I'm in a great place right now; Mason and I are  thriving, doing better than ever, I don't have to worry about Steve and Carol anymore, my mom is finally happy with Luke—despite my wrongful judgement, and I have amazing friends.
Yet, I can't shake this feeling in the pit of my stomach, this dull ache that I shouldn't be this happy, and for once I can't distinguish between irrational fear and intuition.

Always trust your gut.
I should have.