Marked By Masks and Secrets (Everlasting Possession #1)

29

EVIE

K ylo couldn’t keep his hands off me the entirety of our date. And not even in a sexual way, but in this affectionate, possessive way that made my toes curl against my will.

The differences between Kylo and my first relationship couldn’t have been starker, not that I had any desire to reveal those differences to him and let his head inflate bigger than it already was. The pleasure, the attention, the patience, the intellectual and spiritual stimulation… It was as if I’d manifested this man out of one of my books, and I hated it. I hated how easy it was for him to worm his way inside my heart and mind.

Because I still hated his guts, too.

We talked more about philosophy and magick and power as we walked through the gardens. We ignored the topics that still weighed me down, that still made me want to throttle him.

I needed the escape. And Kylo knew it.

He made good on his promise for a picnic, watching me eat and staring at me as if I was a mythical creature from another realm.

As if I really were an angel. And not a confused and paranoid girl with poison in her veins.

Later that night as I lay in bed, I thought of his strong jaw, his powerful muscles, the way his black hair brushed the top of his forehead, and those deep blue eyes that pierced straight through me. I thought of the time I’d seen him shirtless, those dangerous tattoos and the thin trail of hair that receded below his waistband.

What did he look like? I knew it was big. Frighteningly big. Would sex feel as pleasurable as his hands and tongue?

I pictured him in his mask, his shadows gagging, teasing, and binding me, leaving me exposed and helpless as he had his way.

My body flushed with heat, my core suddenly aching all over again, no matter how many times I’d come undone on his tongue earlier today.

I’d never touched myself while consumed by my own thoughts. While reading books, sure, but this was different. Kylo was changing everything—disrupting all that I once knew.

I reached between my thighs. A small moan escaped my lips as I began to move my fingers in circles.

The sound of the door creaking and a sudden heat on the back of my neck had me going still.

The room was dark. I shot up, but strong arms were quick to shove me back down. Before I could scream, a large hand covered my mouth.

“Naughty girl,” a deep voice admonished. “Touching what belongs to me.”

The weight at my core moved, hips rocking against mine.

I knew him by his scent—the fresh mint and woodsy musk, the slightest tinges of leather and berries.

He removed his hand, but before I could speak, two fingers were shoved inside my mouth.

“ Suck .”

Another hand stroked the side of my head. I tentatively swirled my tongue, disoriented and burning with need.

“Good girl.”

The fingers went deeper, and I gagged.

Kylo chuckled, as if delighting in my discomfort and humiliation like the sadistic freak that he was.

He slowly eased out of my mouth.

“You can’t just break into my house—my bedroom—and?—”

“I can, and I did.”

The tone in his voice was nothing like the attentive, nurturing man who walked with me through the gardens. The man who ran a brush through my hair with such tenderness that tears had pooled in my eyes.

And gods above if this version of Kylo didn’t make me burn with desire—a desire I had no idea existed before him.

“Keep that pretty mouth open.”

I shut my lips tight. I wanted to test him. That rush of raw aliveness lit up my every nerve, goading me, propelling me straight into the darkness I ran from.

The dark laugh that filled the room rose the hairs on the back of my neck.

Strong hands manhandled my face, prying my jaw open.

Then, he fucking spit.

His saliva hit my tongue, and he removed his grip from my face. I swallowed.

“Now thank me,” he growled.

I was still in stunned disbelief when he reached under my strappy nightgown and found my bare pussy. His fingers were still coated with my saliva as they skated over my folds before cupping my flesh possessively.

“Evie,” he warned, and something about the tone of his voice penetrated deep.

It reminded me of who this man was, the countless born he’d likely slaughtered or tortured to be where he was today.

Why did I so naively think he wouldn’t hurt me?

As if answering my question, he raised up and slapped my inner thigh.

I cried out. The sting shot up my body and then back down, gathering between my thighs were he still cupped.

“Thank you, Kylo,” I whimpered.

“Good fucking girl.”

All I saw was his imposing body lording over me, and I knew he was in his vampire form even in the dim lighting.

“Has my pussy ever been fucked with fingers before, angel?” he asked.

I had to stop myself from rocking my hips and grinding against his touch.

I nodded, finding my courage in this growing wave of anticipation and yearning. “I tried once myself, but it didn’t feel very good. Then, um, someone else did another time. I don’t remember it that well, only that I didn’t understand the allure.”

Kylo chuckled darkly, his fingers circling my opening now. “Say please.”

He was giving me an out. He was taking all of my firsts one by one, rewriting every single lackluster experience, and I was letting him. I knew in my bones he would leave me alone if I asked.

But the bastard knew I wouldn’t—that I couldn’t .

Fear used to be something that only harmed me. Now it was something I craved, something I found myself leaning into the same as I would pleasure.

For him. Only for him.

“Please,” I rasped.

One of Kylo’s long, thick fingers plunged inside my opening. The stretching feeling, the fullness, the way the appendage hit against this pleasurable center inside of me—it had my eyes rolling back.

“Good girl,” he praised, and this time his voice was softer, more like the man beneath the mask. “What a perfect angel, clenching around her owner’s finger.”

“You are not my?—”

The hand was back over my mouth. “Evie darling, I’m going to need you to be quiet and take what I give you with gratitude now, okay?”

His finger moved in and out, slowly at first as I spasmed around him. Then it began to pulse, hitting that sensitive spot inside me over and over again.

I moaned into his hand, losing all sense of myself in this rising tide of pleasure.

Could I come this way? Something was building, but it felt different—more powerful than previous orgasms. More frightening.

“Uh-huh. Perfect,” he crooned. “Let go. My perfect good girl doesn’t have to think. She trusts me to think for her.”

Such a degrading notion should’ve insulted me, but it didn’t. Just like when he’d spit in my mouth, all I wanted was more. More of him, more of this violence, more of this sickness. I was the prey that walked willingly into the hunter’s trap. Over and over again.

Caught between those powerful iron clamps, I’d never experienced such liberation.

“You’re going to take another,” he said softly. “Let’s not forget our manners, angel. Say thank you .”

When a second finger slowly eased into me, I groaned, feeling fuller than ever before.

His hand on my mouth didn’t move, so I said the words thank you muffled against his skin as he chuckled at my expense. He’d turned me into his cherished possession, a toy, a doll, to watch and dress and play with wherever and whenever he chose.

And gods, I… I liked it. I loved the way it all made me feel.

I whimpered as he pumped, angling against that place of pleasure until I was shaking and squirming beneath him. As my whimpers grew louder, he continued to praise me, to tell me I was his perfect good girl.

“If you can’t take my fingers, however will you take my cock, princess?” he asked me, the condescension stirring more tightness in my belly.

I was riding higher and higher to a release that felt too big, too much. I was terrified of falling over such a steep edge.

And he knew it. Just like he somehow knew everything about me, seen and unseen.

“Don’t be scared, baby.” He finally removed the hand over my mouth. “Let go.”

He freed my breasts from the top of my nightgown, teasing my nipples with his fingers before pulling one into his mouth. He sucked, and as soon as I felt his fangs skate across my sensitive flesh, I trembled.

His laughter rumbled through my chest. He continued to fuck me with his large fingers, to kiss, suck, and nearly bite my nipples.

And the most fucked-up part of all was that when I finally bared down and exploded in a violent, uncontrollable release, the only thing on my mind was one disastrous, forbidden question.

What would it feel like for Kylo to feed from me?

I knew what vampire venom did—the way it worked as an aphrodisiac, a powerful drug that rendered mortals into pliable, vulnerable vampire-pleasing puppets.

I rode wave after wave of my orgasm, imagining Kylo’s fangs biting into my skin the same as his words had already burrowed deep in my soul.

He was slow to remove his fingers, continuing to pet my head and praise me. He kissed my forehead.

“Why—why haven’t you fed from me?” The words tumbled from my lips, unfiltered in the aftermath of my release.

Kylo went utterly rigid. “Gods, Evie, please,” he said, more strained than I’d ever heard before. His hips met mine, and I felt the swell of his cock underneath his pants. “As if you don’t already have my self-control on its last thin thread.”

Oh. My heart skipped a beat. I fought to catch my breath. Kylo had always appeared so in control. I hadn’t even considered that the draw to my blood was difficult for him.

“Is it painful?” I asked.

Kylo moved away from me, and I wasn’t prepared for what the absence of his touch would do to me in my vulnerable state. I was suddenly empty, disappointed—perhaps the first time I’d ever felt that way in his presence.

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat as he moved to the edge of the bed, his back to me.

“Yes,” he hissed, as if clenching his jaw. “My fangs ache, no matter how much I feed. You’re all I can think about. Your scent is everywhere, taunting me. I’m already addicted to you. And I fear what will happen when I finally taste your blood. I’m terrified of what it will do to me—to us. ”

“Why?” I asked. “Because you’re afraid of hurting me?”

His laugh was dry, flirting with unhinged. I could feel his shadows bleed into the room, darkening it a shade.

“No,” he said. “I can’t fucking wait to hurt you.”

I held my breath. I sat up to stare at his back as my thighs finally stopped their shaking.

“Your tears, your pain, your pleasure, the dew between your thighs… your irresistible, otherworldly blood that’s unlike any I’ve ever scented before , ” he said, the words seeming to claw their way out of his throat. “I’m obsessed with all of it. You already have too much of a hold over me. When I can no longer stomach feeding from anyone but you, when your life force is inside of me, fueling my power—I can’t imagine the level of insanity that will root itself in my mind. I will need you. And that should terrify us both.”

It did scare me. As much as it intrigued me, satisfied some deep, wounded need to matter that much to someone.

Our connection was too much too fast. It couldn’t be trusted.

I couldn’t be trusted. Not when my worst enemy had just admitted he couldn’t wait to cause me more pain, and all I wanted to do was ask him to hold me until I fell asleep.

Instead of asking for what I needed, I sunk under the covers and curled in on myself. My eyes stayed trained on his broad, rigid back.

“I’m sorry, Evie,” Kylo whispered.

Then he was gone.