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Getting out of the gala would have been tedious, hectic and almost impossible if Mason was alone.

But the Master held his hand, interlaced their fingers, and didn't let go.

They breezed through at least more than fifty people on the way out. The Master acknowledged some people and didn't make eye contact with others.

Until they were back in the limo. The protective screen went up immediately they got in.

It hadn't even fully gone up when the Master cupped both his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss.

His lips and actions sent a very clear message; He was really hungry.

The way the Master kissed him, wasn't like any other way he'd ever kissed him before. Mason felt the urge to take care of him.

And then he was fiddling with Alexander's zipper and pulling the rock hard shaft out.

Mason dropped to his knees and put it in his mouth. He found out limos were good for this kind of thing with all of the space he had to move around.

It helped that the driver could neither see or hear them. Everything was perfect.

The Master's hands eased into his hair and tightened on the strands as his head bobbed up and down, squelching sounds escaping his mouth.

The grunts and groans coming from the man on the chair made his chest surge with pride. And by the time it was over, he was now fully hard in his pants.

Mason was pulled up for a kiss that seemed to go on forever, until the car had come to a stop. They were home.

It was pretty late when they got out of the car to get inside, a couple of hours past midnight to be precise.

The house was dark and quiet. And it gave Mason some sort of comfort to know that a number of men were fast asleep within it.

He couldn't control his yelp of surprise when he was lifted off the ground and up onto Alexander's arms. He didn't say a word, just kept walking and climbing the stairs until he was in his room, kicking the door closed before setting Mason down.

The touches were not sexual at first, they had more to do with just having body contact more than anything else.

That only lasted until they were tearing their clothes off, the clothes that could not get lost fast enough.

When the feat had finally been accomplished, Mason was backed against the bed. "I don't like gentle," he said.

"I know, Vanilla pretty much spelt it out," the Master replied, dropping kisses everywhere.

Mason was breathless. "Think you can do that?"

"Well, they don't call me Kinky for nothing," the Master said before roughly throwing Mason onto the bed.

Talking like that felt thrilling to Mason. They'd been having rough sex from the start, but there was something about assuming they didn't, just for the sake of it.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop staring at me like that Sir, I think you owe me a fuck," said Mason.

The Master was prepping him in a heartbeat. "Say that again," he demanded.

Mason moaned. "Say what Sir?" He asked innocently.

"Fuck." The Master entered him.

Mason's back arched at the force with which it happened, and taking the whole of him inside in one go, that in itself was another name for rough. "Holy sh–"

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