Chapter 11
Em
“ D o you mind if I take off half an hour early?” I ask Laura, sagging against the counter, a hand pressed to my belly. “Cramps are killing me,” I supply with an eye roll.
It’s the best excuse I can come up with. I need to make my escape before Ash’s psychotic twin shows up.
I have no doubt that he will.
“Sure, honey.” She gives me a nod and gestures to the back. “Go ahead. I’ll finish up.”
My heartbeat punches up my throat so hard I can barely breathe. I rush past Drew and Jake to exit out into the alley not a minute later.
I exhale in relief. The flood of adrenaline in my veins ebbs when I find it deserted.
I don’t linger. My pace is faster than a brisk walk, but not quite a jog. Dread chases me until I lock the deadbolt of my front door behind me.
Only now can I relax.
In my bedroom, I strip out off my jeans. I grab my pajamas and underwear before making my way to the bathroom. The smell of diner grease clings to me. Especially my hair. I scrub until the last bits are replaced by the fresh scent of cucumber and mint.
My long tresses are still damp when I brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I don’t bother with blow-drying them. I’d rather deal with them in the morning.
I wipe a hand across the foggy mirror, and my eyes catch on my tired reflection when I hear a thud from my bedroom.
My head snaps around toward the disturbance. The drop in my stomach hits like a ton of bricks.
What the fuck?
Holding my breath, I perk my ears for sounds of motion, but I’m only met with silence. Not even a squeak from the old building’s floorboards.
I force a swallow down my dry throat and push quietly out of the bathroom.
On bare feet, I sneak along the stretch of hallway separating me from my bedroom until I get a full view of the scene. What I encounter makes the blood rush from my face.
It’s Mason, the window open, a crowbar in his hand.
I know it’s him behind that mask. There’s something about his presence that reeks of danger.
He cocks his head. “Think you can hide from me, baby girl?”
The tool lands on my bed with a light bounce, and I whip around to make a run down the hall to get to the kitchen. I need a weapon.
My hand finds the door frame as I make the sharp turn. With Mason right on my heels, my fingers skip along the counter, ignoring the drawer of cutlery. I need something bigger.
I draw the chef’s knife from the block, and when I spin back he’s already there.
“Now what do you think you’re gonna do with that?” he mocks, taking a step towards the outstretched blade in my hand.
Letting the tip bite into the skin below his jaw, he dares me to strike.
My fingers tremble. I can’t do it, and he knows it.
Eyes wide, I swallow, and he doesn’t miss his opening. Mason is on me in the next beat, his fist closing around my fingers on the knife’s handle as he whirls me around.
Wet hair smacks my face. He brings the blade’s cool tip to my throat. His other hand cuffs my left wrist, wrapping around my waist and caging me to his chest.
“Gotcha!” He presses his masked face to my cheek, his voice a low hum. “If you want to play with knives,” he taunts, dragging the blade carefully down the side of my throat, “all you had to do was ask.”
He keeps going lower, brushing the tip down my chest, flicking my nipple over the camisole I’m wearing. The thin cotton can’t hide the hard shape. Heat flares across my skin with his breath at my ear.
“Maybe next time.” He rips the knife from my hand and it clatters against the counter as he slams it down.
Pulling my arms back, he shifts my wrists into one of his hands and tucks something from his pocket to tie me up. I can’t see what it is, but it’s soft, like cloth, where he winds it around my elbows, locking them in a bent position .
When he’s done, my chest juts out with the forced arch of my spine. The strain on my shoulders is almost painful.
My vision blurs from another spin, and he dips before I can refocus on his mask. Restrained as I am, he throws me over his shoulder and returns to the bedroom.
The heavy thudding of his boots comes to a stop at the foot of my bed. My back hits the mattress, and an ache shoots through me at the contortion of my arms underneath my weight. I wince.
His amused huff carries to my ears. Panic lances through me, watching his hands go to his belt. Digging my heels and shoulder blades into the mattress, I scoot up the bed to get away from him.
I don’t make it far before he rips the strap through the loops, and his knees settle on either side of mine. Leaning over me, he slides it under, then fastens the belt around the meaty parts of my thighs so tight, the leather bites into my skin.
Fuuucck.
My spine arches on a whimper. It turns me on. My traitorous pussy salutes him with a pulse.
Another dark chuckle worms its way through my ear canal. He knows.
Mason slides his fingers into the gap between my thighs, feeling the damp spot that’s growing where my boy shorts meet my wet slit.
“Is that for me, baby girl?” His fingers curl over my needy flesh as he rubs me .
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth, denying him my reply, but my body betrays me again. My hips grind into his motion.
His left hand grips the front of my throat, palm forcing my jaw up as his fingers dig in at the sides.
My eyes fly open.
“I asked if that’s for me,” he repeats in a growl, his other hand dipping into my shorts to meet me skin on skin.
“Y-yes. It’s for you, Mason,” I whimper already close to coming.
“Say it again. I want my name on your lips when you come.” And then he spreads my slick seam, thrusting his fingers into me at a quickening pace.
Every muscle in my body tenses as the rush overtakes me. His thumb strokes my clit and my walls clench around him while his left hand continues to squeeze my throat.
My vision flickers. I’m at his mercy. My lips part with a plaintive moan, forming his name as my climax peaks.
“That’s it, baby girl.” Mason’s grip on my throat loosens, his voice hovering over me. “So eager to please, aren’t you? But we’re not done,” he adds, withdrawing his hands from me completely. “I like to keep score, and by my count, my brother is ahead. I don’t like it when he beats me.”
He pushes off the bed, and my eyes follow him around my room in a haze from the aftermath.
He walks up to my dresser. Pulling the top drawer open, he rummages around the contents like he’s looking for something particular. I’m not sure why he’s so interested in my underwear until—
“What do we have here? ”
Fuck me! I throw my head back into the pillow with a groan. He found my toy stash.
“Cute.” He pivots toward me, holding up a slim, purple vibrator. “We both know you can fit bigger than that,” he acknowledges with a little laugh behind his mask, then dives back in. “Let’s see what other toys you got in here.”
Please no. I sink into the mattress in shame.
“Ha! Now we’re talking.”
I know what he found before my eyes catch the silver glint of the butt plug.
He tips his head to one side, suspicion in his tone. “Have you used this before?”
“No,” I groan. I have plenty of practice with the vibrator, but I’m still working up the nerve to make use of the plug. It was an impulse buy a little while back, and it’s been taunting me ever since.
“It’s a bit ambitious in size for a beginner. Guess you like a challenge. I knew I liked you.” His hand makes another dip into the drawer before he shoves it home.
I don’t miss the sadistic glee in his gait. Loot in hand, he returns to me, dropping his stash on the mattress beside me to nudge me over onto my stomach.
My body complies without reason. Mason has reached into my mind and is now pulling the strings of my deepest, darkest desires like I’m his puppet.
I turn my head to draw a breath through the tangled strands of my hair and the pillow when his weight settles on top of me .
“You ready to have some fun, baby girl?” he prompts, hauling my hips off the bed to meet the ardent bulge behind his fly.
I manage no more than a grunt before his fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts and push the cotton down my thighs where it stops at the belt still firmly in place.
“You have no idea what this view does to me,” Mason growls, his palms rubbing up and down my arms, tugging on my restraints.
“Imagine all the unspeakable things I can do to you like this… all the sinful ways I can corrupt you.” He does another rough pass down my forearms, grip lingering on my wrists. “Moan for me.”
The queued response leaks from my lips, and I grind back on reflex, searching for the friction of him.
“Mmm. So compliant,” he muses.
He releases my wrists. His big hands skip to my ass, spreading me open, thumbs tracing the edges of my pussy.
Another deep, pleased growl carries to my ears. His praise ignites a fire in my core. I ache to feel him inside me. To have his throbbing cock stretching my inner walls.
Mason’s weight shifts behind me. When his touch leaves my needy flesh, and there’s a rustle from him removing his mask, my anticipation crests.
The mattress dips under his movements. My skin flushes as he takes his time. The wait for him to touch me again is agonizing.
He gives me no warning. He eases the vibrator into me, sliding it against my tender folds. The glide is cool and smooth, and I know he lubed it. His hands are slick too .
His thumb circles the tight rim of my rear, applying pressure before pushing in.
My lips part to a silent moan. My eyes squeeze shut. Mason’s groan chases me…
Then he turns the vibration on.
I cry out as he fucks me slowly. My body trembles. It’s different when he’s using the toy on me—when he’s the one in control of my pleasure instead of me taking care of myself. The sensation is so much more intense.
He moves in and out of me with a matching rhythm while my knees press together from the restraint around my thighs. Face buried in the fluffy down pillow, the muscles in my neck pinch as my spine arches. My weight is braced on my chest, my breasts riding the friction of his thrusts.
I love the pain he spurs. I chase the feeling, letting it push me higher until I climax.
“Oh God…” Shivers rake through me. I’m drooling as the ongoing vibration draws a symphony of whimpers from my throat.
More waves crash over me when he pulls the toy out and rubs it across my clit.
I groan.
My body convulses.
I don’t know if I’m still coming or about to come again.
“That’s my girl. So needy. So hungry.”
Mason’s voice rings clearer without the obstruction of his mask, but my brain has trouble grasping his words with the way he stimulates every nerve in my body.
“Think you’re ready for that challenge now?”
Oh fuck! He means the plug .
My muscles tense.
Mason removes the vibrator. Then his thumb. “Relax for me.”
And then I feel it, the cool, slick steel probing me, stretching me beyond the size of his finger.
“Just. A little. More,” he coaxes, pushing it deeper with persistence despite my distress.
It’s too big. The pressure is too much. I don’t think I can…
A groan ruptures from my throat in relief of having claimed the widest part of the conical shape.
“Yes, baby. Fucking swallow it.”
The sensation is something else. I’m full, but not full enough.
“You want my cock?”
“Yes,” I groan into the pillow, my hips squirming in a restless motion.
“Then come for me, baby girl.” Mason slides his long fingers into my pussy. I think it’s three, but I’m not sure. “I need one more before I give you what you want.”
Rough knuckles stroke my clit. I’m being stretched too far. I can’t possibly take any more, and yet I know he will fit his cock regardless.
Nudging the plug, he pumps his finger in and out of me in a slow rhythm at first, gaining speed. Sloshing sounds fill my ears. I bottom out. I feel myself unfurl for him.
My body convulses in its restricted position, and a cry of raw, unrestrained pleasure shatters my skull as white lights pop in my vision .
Mason rewards me with a deep, gratified sound before both his hands disappear. I can hear him undo his pants. Then he’s back, the tip of his cock prodding my pussy.
He pushes into me with a single thrust. “Feel how hard you make me?” he taunts, retreating and slamming back into me. “That’s all for you, baby girl.”
While toying with the plug, his free hand cuffs my wrists for leverage, and he picks up momentum. His lower piercing teases my clit. My stomach clenches. His thrusts rail me deep and hard at a quickening pace, sending ripples through me.
His short breaths come fast. “Fuck, you look beautiful like that,” he pants. “The only thing missing is you choking around my brother’s cock.”
His words send me over the edge as his hips pound into me again and again. My body grips him. My climax crashes over me so violently my vision goes black. I can’t even draw air into my lungs.
My body’s spastic clenching milks him, and Mason’s hoarse growl explodes like thunder. He rears into me in one last punishing drive to claim his own release.
Flush with my backside, his hips jerk as he spills. I feel him pulsing against my walls.
A shudder passes from him to me before he pulls out. He zips himself, then removes his belt and at last the tie around my elbows.
I collapse. My useless limbs can’t hold me up.
When he leans over me, his massive upper body braced on his hands at either side of me, his hips grind into my ass with intention, his weight pushing the butt plug .
Mason’s breath feathers across my cheek, but his content hum reaches something beneath my skin. “I’m going to leave this in,” he rasps low at my ear. “I want you to get used to that feeling of having your asshole stretched, because next time you run from me, it’s going to be my cock filling you.”
His lips give my temple a peck, and then he’s gone, out the window and back into the night.