The music pounded, but it barely registered as Mason’s lips crashed into yours. You were in his lap, bodies tangled, the world spinning—not just from the coke or the ecstasy, but from his hands roaming your skin, pulling you closer.

Everything buzzed with heat, with urgency. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough.

You broke away, breathless, laughing. “This is perfect,” you said, not knowing why—but meaning it.

His hand slid up your back, fingers gripping like he owned you. Lips hot on your neck, he whispered, “You’re beautiful. Why are you with him when you could have this?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Nothing else mattered—not the past, not your boyfriend, not what came next.

“Because I can,” you murmured, no guilt, just fire.

Mason grinned. “Told you. You don’t need him.” His voice curled dark and sure. “I’ve got everything you need right here.”