Chapter 5 #2
I gasped, hands clawing at the leather, trying to push away my raging fucking erection. My heart hammered, every nerve frayed, every instinct screaming to fight. And yet, a deeper, darker coil inside me twisted tight.
“Interesting,” he whispered, slow, deliberate, commanding. “I mean, you can’t hide who you are. But you being as hard as stone is yet another interesting surprise. Stop pretending you’re in control. I can hear it. Feel it. I can make you shiver without even touching you.”
My body bucked on the fucking wall, fingers gripping the textured anchor. My dick brushed against the resistance, wrenching a strangled groan from me.
Fuck. I have to stop fighting. This is not happening to me.
I looped my hands inside the metal lantern hook, holding myself still.
My cock throbbed uncontrollably. My body was reacting before my mind could, betraying me further and further.
I wanted to fucking scream. I was just sensitive from the sex earlier, on edge from the need to kill that bitch. This was not from…him.
“Good boy,” his dark voice was silkily smooth but steel-hard in its underlying meaning. “That’s it. Don’t fight it. You feel it. I can tell that you do.”
Heat and shame surged through me in waves, every pulse pulling me closer to a breaking point I didn’t understand. I clenched my jaw, trembling, hating myself for how weak I felt right now, hating how alive every word, every imagined brush of him made me. This was not fucking happening.
The haunted house was a blur of fog and strobe lights. All I could focus on was the impenetrable strength of the wall…and him.
“You sure are tense,” his voice whispered, his tongue slipping out to run a heated trail along my exposed flesh. “I can feel every tense coil, every weak attempt at control. You like the challenge too, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, my heart thundering in my chest, not from fear, but something darker, and much sharper.
I pressed harder into the wall instead of straining to get away from it.
I was trying to stay grounded, trying to get his dick off my ass.
My hands itched to grip something, anything, but I didn’t move. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction.
His shadows’ weight shifted, brushing along my arm, a feather-light graze that made my fingers clench tighter, and my hips jerk in spite of myself. I swallowed again, sharp, controlled, breathing fast but steady.
I am in control. I am in control. I am in control.
“I commend you, honestly. You hide it well,” he breathed in my ear, his fucking tongue gliding further up my neck now. “But I can see it. I can feel the heat simmering inside you. You’re not as perfect as you pretend, are you, Sunshine?”
My skin burned where his tongue explored. My mind raced, my anger boiling to the point of pain. And worst of all, my cock throbbed against these constricting pants. Each fucking touch sent bolts of pleasure that had me dripping pre-come.
My body reacted without permission, my muscles twitching, the sensations confusing me, their rough and sloppy nature feeling alien. I wanted to wrench away, to escape, to fucking rip his head from his shoulders.
But my mind stayed alert, calculating. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.
Another flick of his tongue, and his fingers grazed my waistband, light and teasing. My hips jerked again, my breath hitching in a strangled groan of anger.
I tried pressing myself as hard as physically possible against the wall, but his hands were still on me, still able to grip me while his body held me immobile.
I struggled to maintain control, to suppress the terrifying waves of arousal flowing through me. I growled, trying desperately to keep my sharp edges intact.
“Mmm, yes. Fight it,” he murmured, deliberately right into my ear, as his hand gripped my cock through the leather. “I like the way you shiver against me. The way you resist me. It suits you. And fuck me, it’s thrilling.”
I exhaled through my teeth, gripping the wall until my knuckles ached, letting the tension build inside me. My cock throbbed painfully now. My body was begging for release, but I wasn’t fucking letting go.
Finally, almost as a shield, an anchor to stop the pull, I opened my mouth. Horrified that I sounded so…breathless.
“Stop. Get the fuck off me, Carrington. You don’t fucking know me.”
Carrington laughed, the vibration making me fucking groan from the friction. His own enjoyment of the action made his breathing falter.
His words were less controlled, becoming more strained as he panted. “I know you better than you think, Sunshine. You are a copy of me. A replica I intend to understand before I destroy. What I didn’t expect was for you to show me things about myself that feel like a…release.”
His words lingered in my mind. The ending got caught in his throat as he pressed into me harder, making both of us struggle to catch our breath.
Fuck.
The wall at my chest was hard and unyielding, but it was nothing compared to the grip on my dick. My arms were pinned, trapped, useless against my chest. Every muscle in me screamed to fight him, to rip his cock into tatters, to get the fuck out of this place—but his touch was already too much.
His fingers kept tracing over my hard length, slow and fucking deliberate, teasing me with damning precision. My hips thrusted forward despite my teeth clenching, and my stomach coiled into a knot. I groaned low, chest heaving, my knees trembling as I tried to stay standing.
“Such a good boy,” he panted, grinding into my back with the same speed his hand used on my dick. “So interesting…so perfect. Why are you so hard for me? You can’t fight me, you know that. But I don’t think you want to…anymore.”
I bounced against him, trying to shake his hold on me, freeing my hands to grip his wrist. I was shaking, trying to assure myself with logic, with the thought of Xanthy.
But despite my hold on his wrists, his gloved fingers didn’t stop.
One hand pressed hard against my tip, stroking, while dragging my dick against the fabric.
No. Please. God. No.
My body arched as I gasped, teeth biting down on my lip so hard I tasted a burst of metal, and a strangled sound escaped through my lips.
I was so close to the edge. My hips had a mind of their own.
Their only need was to seek heat and friction.
They bucked forward, pressing harder without my permission.
I can’t come for a fucking man. For my girlfriend‘s brother…
But I am.
“Stop!” I barked, my voice hoarse. “I…I’m Xanthy’s boyfriend,” I snapped, my voice rough, but my body betrayed me again, cock throbbing, muscles coiling over and over with each roll of his hips.
The hand on me didn’t pause but for a single second. If anything, it pressed harder into my dick, more intentional, rougher. It slid lower to my balls, stroking through the pants’ material until my hips bucked involuntarily.
The low groans leaving my throat were wrong.
This was wrong.
I didn’t want this.
I clenched my fists around his wrists, willing myself to pull him off my body.
His knees were trembling, and I could feel his grinding falter against my body. I wasn’t the only one helpless to this. He was trying to maintain control, trying to resist the surge of whatever possessed him too.
“That makes sense, Sunshine,” he whispered, fingers moving faster, pressing, holding me tighter, stroking me faster.
“So tell me, Shiloh. Is my sister‘s pussy this good for you? Do you shiver like this under her grip? Every desperate little thrust, getting my hands wetter and wetter. You may be hers in the morning, but tonight?”
I trembled against the wall, my chest rising and falling in ragged bursts, cock straining under the merciless teasing and stroking. I tried to drag in a steady breath, to shove the shame down, and I held onto the knowledge I was a straight man. I didn’t want a man. I didn’t want this.
His dangerous words sliced through my thoughts, through my reason. My pelvis thrusted into his hand involuntarily, pushing harder into the pressure. My body was eager to respond even as my mind screamed to stop.
“Tonight,” he moaned. “Tonight, Shiloh Anderson. You are mine.”
The more I tried to resist, the more precise his skillful hands became, all the teasing and merciless kneading grew, dragging me to the edge, lighting every nerve in my body until I was trembling, gasping, my muscles taut and desperate for a release.
“Yes. That’s it,” he grunted, my back feeling wet, a result of his pre-come. “Such control…but it won’t save you from this. You can’t hide from me.”
I tried to tighten my abs, to squeeze shut the betrayal of my body.
But his hand dragged along my balls, then back up, squeezing my head.
He used every shiver from my rebellious body to guide his actions.
My chest heaved, my ragged breaths escaping my lips.
My thighs were breaking, shaking with the tension that bunched deep, low, and raw inside me.
“Shiloh…so interesting that you make me shiver like this. I can feel every twitch of your dick, every desperate little push into my hand. You’re so responsive.”
I tried to hold it in, to stay sharp, to remind myself I was Xanthy’s. My hips bucked regardless, my cock straining against the merciless fingers pressing and stroking, my groans escaping in short, sharp bursts.
“I’m…Xanthy’s…boyfriend!” I gasped again, my voice clipped and defensive, but my moans betrayed me. I jerked forward, muscles tight and taut, every nerve on fire as I got closer and closer. “Please…stop. Fuck. Stop. Stop fucking touching me.”
“Mmm,” he purred, the vibration making me physically pant. “You’ve said it again and again. Does it make it worse, Sunshine? Fuuuck. You’re perfect like this. So desperate. So mine.”
My legs trembled, thighs quivering as he worked relentlessly, dragging me to the edge, just to stop for a second and do it over again. My body was drenched in sweat. The fake fucking blood dripping off of me under the strobe lights.
I prayed no one could hear me, hear the pathetic whimpers leaving my mouth as he tortured me.
Fuck you. I will not come for you.
It was a chant in my broken mind. But my knees were nearly giving out, my muscles trembling, cock pulsing with every breath in the air, and then it happened.
My fucking body gave in. I came hard, shuddering, restrained, wracked with tremors, heat, and so much fucking shame. My chest heaved against the wall, breathing so jagged I couldn’t hear my own voice anymore.
My fingernails were bleeding from clawing at nothing, trying to tether myself as the waves tore through me.
His hand lingered just long enough to prolong the orgasm, my back splashed with something warm and thick that I refused to acknowledge. And then he withdrew as the silence stretched. The only sound was my ragged gasps as the fog curled around me.
I fell to my knees, unable to hold myself against the wall anymore. I was vibrating, hips still coiled, my face flushed, and my mind racing. My body had completely betrayed me, yet my mind remained sharp, calculating, and aware.
I turned around.
Ready to fucking break his neck for what he did to me. My pants were soaked through, and vomit rose in my throat when I looked down.
The fog thickened with every breath, blurring my vision. The strobe lights spun around me, making me dizzy. But I knew somewhere in the shadows, he was still there, watching, waiting, shaping his warped game.
Would he slink off back to the maze? Chase some other masked actor and force them into this sick fucking release?
This was his game, but the idiot females running around didn’t seem to interest him.
My come dripped from my pants, and I growled in the silence, coming to a sickening realization.
Maybe…it’s me.
I’m his fucking prey.