Chapter 20 – Gabriella #3
I didn’t feel particularly gorgeous. My hair was in a messy knot at the back of my head, the ponytail digging into my scalp, which was sweaty from the orgasm.
The rest of me was just…me. There were fading red stretch marks on my belly, but luckily the skin had tightened well.
The marks on my breasts were still deep and purple, though.
If he noticed the stretch marks, he didn’t ask.
They were normal for some people. The simple explanation that they were from a growth spurt or puberty would have been a convincing lie.
But still, I didn’t particularly love them since I had nothing to show for the scars.
But when it came to scars, this man had me beat. Whatever hid behind that mask was probably horrific. His body? I felt the bunched, strained skin on his shoulder as I’d held on for dear life moments ago.
Liam braced his forearms on either side of me, lowering his body against mine.
Dio sopra, he was huge—and I wasn’t talking about that monster between his legs that made my pussy weep with anticipation.
His height, his stacked muscles, his freaking aura made him seem like a giant.
And that was when I was across the room from him!
With no distance between us and that hungry look raging in his eyes, I was tiny.
But when he captured my mouth in a devastating kiss, I opened my legs wider, inviting him to settle between them. He continued to bruise my mouth, my jaw, my pulse with his kisses as his cock nudged against my pussy. I tipped my hips, and he slipped the tip inside my soaked pussy.
No help.
No guidance.
He just…fit.
“I want to fuck you like an animal,” he ground out, words shards against my throat. Every muscle in that powerful body was strung tight, as if he were holding back.
I brushed my hands up his ribs, not missing the difference between the left and right sides of his body. Scarred. Brutal. Tragically beautiful. There was nothing to fear from this man.
“Then do it.”
He gave me everything I asked for. With one powerful thrust, he sank to the hilt. The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp.
“Eyes on me.” Liam’s fingers tipped my chin up. Lines cut across his forehead as he stared down at me. Beads of sweat formed along his hairline. The mask…it shifted a fraction. Bright red skin whispered out.
I snapped my gaze to his eyes, not wanting him to know I’d seen. I would die if he stopped.
“Hands above your head.” He didn’t give me a choice as he clutched my wrists in his bare hand and drug them up. At the same time, he drew back, before slamming into me.
I whimpered.
“Ssshhh.” He pressed a finger against my lips, leaving my hands to dangle above my head. “No talking, unless you’re going to beg.”
His kiss cut off my protest, teeth nipping at my lips as he teased me with his cock—sliding in, pulling back part way, pushing deeper.
“Open for me,” he growled, his hot breath mixing with mine.
“I am—”
That gloved hand covered my mouth a second later. I spewed the retort at him through a look. I knew he freaking understood. I was making myself crystal clear.
Liam ground his hips into me, forcing me to take him. Every thick, hard inch.
“I said,” he bit out, squeezing my jaw hard, face inches from mine, “open.”
We were so close. Our breaths mingled. Not kissing but sharing something.
I tilted my pelvis, since it was the only way I could move.
The beast groaned.
That tormented, strangled sound made me smile. No…I had nothing to fear. This prince of the underworld needed to know that. I might not be as physically large or financially well off, but I had a power. One I was only beginning to learn how to use.
Liam thrust into me. The friction, the fullness—they were devastating.
“Take it,” he rasped.
I arched into him, hooking my legs behind his back. A throaty moan trickled out of me.
“No one else will ever see you like this.”
It was hard to tell if that was a promise or a threat. Either way, I wasn’t sure why he brought that up. But the way his voice dripped with possession, the way his blue eyes stormed, I bit my lip and nodded.
The concession tripped a chain reaction.
Liam snarled, reared up—taking me with him—and plunged into me.
The gloved hand slipped from my jaw, fingers wrapping around my throat.
A madness contorted his features. He fucked me.
Raw and ruthless. Desperate and without forgiveness.
He was the picture of a man on the brink of insanity.
I would probably be considered a psycho too, because I freaking loved the way he used me. My fingers dug into the cushion behind me. My body was bare. I was at his mercy.
And this masked devil was not a merciful god.
“Beg me,” Liam growled.
His fingers loosened for a second, and I took a desperate gulp of air. They closed, the vise cutting off my words before I could form them.
“I said, beg!” the devil thundered.
The whimper turned into a choke since the air had nowhere to go.
Spots dotted the corners of my vision. There was only Liam and the blackness creeping in at the edges.
Still, I met his thrusts. My pussy clenched like a vise around his cock, making him work for every thrust. The pleasure from every forceful intrusion gave me the tether to consciousness as I held my breath.
Right as the darkness began to swallow the beast, he loosened his grip. I drank in the air, lungs raw, airway burning. This man was like whiskey. A buzz that I chased. The burn that I craved.
“Liam, please,” I gasped.
“No, I’m not Liam, not to you.” His fingers tightened again, this time before I found the air I needed.
The couch frame creaked, and the damn thing shifted on the hardwood floor. Liam changed his pace, a slower tempo, but with more precise, shattering collisions. My fingers slipped from their hold. My body writhed as it fought between the need for the pleasure and the craving for air.
“Find another title,” he ordered, bending so that our foreheads nearly touched.
The mask—it was slipping. An inch of raw, red, puckered flesh contrasted with the white of the plastic.
My body shook as he released his hold. I took desperate breaths, trying to divert enough air to my brain to think of the answer to his riddle.
Because that was what this was. He had a name in mind, and he wanted me to find it.
Devil? A god? Both would fit, but neither captured the essence of this exchange of power.
“Master,” I whimpered as his fingers began to tighten once more.
They stopped.
The beast listened. His head cant to the side, mouth twitching as he considered the word.
“Master, please,” I begged. “Let me come.”
“Yes,” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath. “You know that I own you, Gabriella. So I’ll show you mercy. Come. Come now, my sweet little wife.”
As if they’d been waiting for his permission, the muscles of my pussy clenched around him. The spasm ripped from a place so deep inside me that I didn’t know where it came from.
My body shook.
A cry tore from my throat.
In the most exquisite torture, I shattered.
Liam fucked me through the release, not once letting up or showing restraint as I convulsed, lost to the blinding explosion of ecstasy.
Only when the noises stropped tearing my throat open, did he groan. He thrust into me. His cock twitched, emptied—filled me. I didn’t realize I had anything left inside me. But Liam’s next words drew another orgasm from me before the first had even finished.
“Mine. You’re fucking mine, little bird.”
The spots from the breath play were nothing compared to the fireworks that burst in front of me.
I screamed. The sound pierced the room. The spasms were too much.
I was bliss. There was only euphoria. His hands were braced on the couch, not even touching me, and yet I struggled to breathe. Did I pass out?
Or was this how it felt to be fucked by a man who I was obsessed with?