Chapter 14
RAIDEN
Itake off my mask and then carry Aurora to bed. Leaning down, I gently remove her mask too, revealing her full beauty. While sleeping, she looks even more vulnerable. For a brief and impossible moment, I imagine being her protector for real.
I’m about to turn back to the couch when she moans and calls out to me.
“Raiden,” she murmurs sleepily. “Don’t… go.”
She’s sleeping, doesn’t even know what she’s saying. If she wakes to find I’ve climbed into bed next to her, she’s probably going to be pissed. Then lightning strikes, and she lets out a gasp.
I can’t leave her like that. She’s clearly terrified.
I gently climb into bed next to her, feeling the mattress sag in my direction. I’m so much heavier than her. She rolls against me and places her hand on my chest. A soft smile touches her lips as she wriggles contentedly next to me.
I glide my fingers through her hair, which she seems to like. Close my eyes and listen to the rain hammering against the window.
Then suddenly, the rain becomes gunfire, and I’m doing my best to fire back, gun thrown over the barricade, blind firing because the last two men who peeked over had their skulls cleaved in two.
Terror holds me in a vise, terror like I’ve never felt: terror which, truth be told, I thought I was better than.
I’m like a scared boy. It’s nowhere near as heroic as I always dreamed I’d be.
My buddy, Rocky, bellows in my direction, “A few more minutes and we’ll have backu—”
A grenade goes off. Gore everywhere.
I stumble through the dusty semidarkness as I struggle to find my bearings, my ears ringing, my knee twinging.
“Ahhhh!” I howl, bolting upright.
“Ahhhh!” Aurora screams.
I rub my eyes, grounding myself in my surroundings, and look down to find Aurora. Sweat is coating both of our bodies, drenching us and sticking our clothes to us.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, reading the fear in her eyes. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Did we just have a nightmare at the same time?” she whispers.
“Seems so.”
“Whoa. It’s like when women synchronize their periods.”
I tilt my head. “Riiiight.”
“Bad analogy?” She says with a tired laugh.
“Nah–I get you.”
Her eyes are clear as she pulls away from me, then stands. “Why are we in bed together?”
“Take that accusation out of your tone,” I growl, standing on the other side of the bed. “I tried to leave you here by yourself, but you were terrified of the storm and asked me to lie down with you.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“I’m not lying.”
“I’m not saying you are. I just don’t remember it.”
“You should say thank you, sir, for being there for you,” I snap.
Her dress is rumpled from sleeping, her hair wild, giving her a disheveled, attractive look that has my heart pounding and my thoughts going wild. I could tear the fabric of that dress easily.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she mutters.
“I’ll look at you any damn way I want.”
“Comforting me when I have nightmares and looking at me like I’m a meal are not part of the deal.”
“And yet, you like when I do both.”
“Says who?”
I walk around the bed, and take her by the hips. She doesn’t move to stop me, or pull away. “You don’t need to say.”
“Stop,” she whispers.
“Say that like you mean it.”
“Stop… sir.”
“You know that just turns me on even more.”
She chews on her lip. “Sir, you can’t just take what you want. You can’t just take all responsibility from me… you can’t make this your choice, not mine. You can’t. Sir.”
She moans the final sir. She knows what she’s doing.
She’s saying I can’t do it… while giving me a roadmap on how she wants it.
“What if you want me to take responsibility from you?” I growl.
Her whimpers and the widening of her eyes tell me I’m right.
“What if you need me to?” I slide my hand around to her full ass and pull her against me, indulging in her curvy sexiness. “You need me to take the lead so you can forget about your nightmare, about the storm, about everything.”
“I don’t think this is very appropriate, sir.”
“Keep telling yourself that; none of this is on you… It’s all on me.”
She moans again, doing a piss poor job of pretending she doesn’t like it. I crush my lips against hers, tasting her pleasure, feeling her shiver with barely repressed desire. She squeezes onto my shoulders.
“Sir,” she whispers.
“Every time you say that,” I groan between hungry kisses. “I get even harder.”
She wriggles against me. “Can you get any harder, sir?”
Fuck.
The answer is yes.
She whimpers longingly when I pick her up and place her atop the chest of drawers, her legs opening, allowing me to drive my hips forward and push my engorged cock against her needy core.
She gasps. “Wait–our masks.”
I smirk. “If you want your mask before I touch your eager, soaked pussy, you better say it like you mean it.”
I step back, creating some space between her body and mine, then glide my hand slowly up her thigh. She halts my wrist before I can go all the way.
“Please, sir,” she moans, her legs shaking as if her body is screaming at her to let me go all the way.
“Stay exactly where you are,” I growl.
I walk around the bed and grab our masks. Putting mine on first, I then hand hers to her. Her hands tremble as much as her lust-filled legs as she carefully pulls it on.
“Easier to accept you need this now, aye?” I croon, gliding my hand up her bare leg and against her underwear.
She gasps and shifts her hips, grinding her core against my hand.
“I can feel your wetness through the material,” I tell her, rubbing faster. “You can pretend you don’t want it. Pretend this is all part of the deal. Pretend you’re contractually obliged to get soaked for me. But you fucking need this, Aurora.”
“Sir, sir, sir,” she chants.
“When it comes to your horny-as-fuck pussy and that deep dark desire you try to hide, you love it when I tell you what to do. You love it when you get to relinquish control.”
She bites her lip, nodding, making my manhood ache like I’m going to explode in my pants.
“Beg me to take off your underwear,” I grunt.
“Sir…”
“Now.” I stop grinding my hand up and down her folds, holding it still, but maintaining contact so the spell doesn’t break. “Now, Aurora. I won’t ask again.”
“Please, sir,” she moans after a moment. “Take off my underwear, sir. Please. I’m begging you.”
I groan as I grip her underwear, pull them down her thick, delicious thighs. Her mouth tightens as if she’s debating telling me to stop, as if she’s unsure of how far she wants to take this.
When I touch her again, I feel precome pulsing hot and achingly out of the tip of my cock. She’s drenched, her needy clit swollen as if in response to my touch, inflamed with lust.
“Raiden,” she moans. “Oh, fuck. We shouldn’t—”
“You want it,” I tell her. “Stop pretending.”
“Oh, oh, fuck,” she gasps.
I push the heel of my palm against her needy nub, stroking her channel with my fingers at the same time. She grinds her hips even faster as though she’s losing control, sinking her fingers into my shoulders and riding the wave.
When I slip my finger into her drenched entrance, she pushes her mask against my chest and bites onto my pec through my shirt.
“I know you’ll scream otherwise,” I snarl. “I know you’re losing control. I know you’re about to explode for me. Do it, Aurora. Let go. Drench my hand with how badly you want this, how badly you fucking need this. Even if you’re pretending you don’t.”
“Sir, sir, sir.”
Her pussy makes gorgeous wet noises as I thrust in and out of her, drawing her closer and closer to the edge. She grips the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss.
We kiss chaotically, our teeth clicking together with the motion of her near release.
Finally, she can’t kiss me anymore. She can’t even moan. She gasps breathily, hardly making any noise, as her pussy pulsates around my finger and fresh wetness drenches my hand.
After she leans back and pushes my hand away. “Raiden,” she whispers.
“Don’t say it,” I snarl.
“Just take a step back. Please.”
“I love it when you beg…”
“No, it’s done. That was a mistake.” She takes off her mask, staring guiltily at me. “I don’t want to be a cock tease or whatever men call women like me, but this is the end.” She hops down from the drawer, adjusts her dress. “I got carried away.”
She reaches up and takes off my mask. It’s like she knows it’s more difficult for us to forget how complicated this is when we’re looking honestly at each other.
“We shouldn’t do that again,” she says. “It was wrong. You know it was wrong.”
“I don’t know that,” I growl. “Wrong–how?”
“Because once our deal is done, we’re done. I’ve made that clear from the start.”
“And we can’t have a little pleasure in the meantime?”
“It’ll just make things more complicated.”
I turn away, pissed, and also not wanting her to see the hurt on my face.
What right do I have to be disappointed or upset? It’s not as though she misled me.
“Whatever,” I grunt. “I’m going back to sleep.”
I walk to the couch and lie down, put my hands behind my head and close my eyes, trying to pretend my body isn’t roaring at me to grab her, kiss her, touch her… own her, even if it’s only when we’re wearing masks.
“Are you okay?” she asks from the bed. “You’re breathing heavily.”
That’s because my cock is rock hard, and lust is burning through me like wildfire.
“Never been better,” I grunt.