Chapter 25 Dahlia
DAHLIA
I’ve been waiting with bated breath for tonight. The thought of him chasing me and taking me, supposedly against my will, has played out in my head repeatedly––a salacious scenario that has me in a permanent state of wantonness.
One moment he was next to me as we strolled through the gardens, the next he was gone. For someone as built as he is, he can be so silent––a lethal predator.
He’s watching me. I can sense him in my heartbeat picking up, dizzying me. Every breath I expel is a stuttered sound of apprehension mixed with desire.
The pale moon casts a dim light around me. Not knowing where he is adds to the anxiety catching in my throat. Nerves prickle at my senses, making me attuned to my surroundings. It’s exhilarating yet terrifying at the same time.
I never thought that this would be one of my sexual fantasies, but like he said, it’s about control. I can’t rewrite what happened, but I can end the story to my liking.
I trust him completely, implicitly. This all-consuming man owns my entire heart and orchestrates my pleasure. I am his. Entirely his. A fact. The ultimate truth.
A gust of wind blows, chasing goose bumps over my heated skin, making me aware that I am exposed, in the open, for a predator to have his way with me. I am easy prey, but just to give in the play, I say, forcing panic in my voice.
“Is someone there?” I stutter.
A bush rustles on my right, catching my attention. I zoom in and see a shadow towering over the garden. It’s the mask that I glimpse that has my eyes popping out.
A half groan, half growl hits my ears and, accompanied by the Balaclava, has me picking up my pace.
“Run, baby girl, but I’ll catch you.” His voice turns darker with the same desire that rushes through my veins.
The chase invigorates me, pumping my blood faster through my veins.
It’s such a potent sensation. The rush of adrenaline and danger spikes my heart rate, scattering my thoughts.
The survival instinct screams at me not to get caught while arousal sabotages any attempt.
I can’t outrun my desire. Deep down, I know I am safe. It’s him.
Refusing to make it easy for him, I sprint off. The wind slaps the hair against my cheek, each lash reminding me he’s after me. It’s pure thrill mixed with lust that makes me want to simultaneously flee but give in.
I run as if to evade captivity, when I couldn’t be more trapped in his maze. And we both know it. There’s no escape. No hiding. It’s only the illusion of freedom.
A big hand clasps around my elbow and drags me into a hard chest heaving with barely restrained control. I need him to shatter, embrace fully the side I’ve only seen glimpses of. He’s always in control, nothing more important to him than my safety.
The black balaclava caresses my cheek, and a tremor skitters down my back. The scenario is so real, adding a touch of danger that is as exhilarating as it is frightening.
“Please, let me go.”
In response, his hand wraps around my neck, trapping my breath in my lungs. The intensity dizzies me. It’s such a heady experience that I have trouble discerning between reality and fantasy.
“Why would I?” he says low, nibbling my ear.
Fully in his role, he keeps me teetering on the edge of insanity. The half aroused, half terrified state overrides my logic, messing with my head. I clutch his other hand, seeking protection from the one that is supposed to harm me.
Why would he indeed? I try to rack my head for an answer while he seduces my senses into giving in. This is what I craved all along.
“What do you want from me?” I ask meekly.
He cups between my thighs. “To plow into your pussy.” He slaps a hand over my mouth. “Fuck your mouth until you choke on my cock.” A smack connects with my ass, making me yelp. “And then take your ass.”
To accompany his harsh words, he bites into my neck, and I whimper. “But I don’t want that…”
A groan vibrates in his chest. “Did I say I care about what you want?”
He plays his role so well that for a moment, I forget we’re playing, so I elbow him in his stomach, taking off. I doubt I can even harm him. I fucked up, and I am going to pay for it. The thought of punishment only makes me hotter. Makes me want to fall to my knees and beg, serve, submit.
His growl reverberates through me, the rush of lust weakens my knees, threatening to make me trip.
I run inside the palace, but before I close the door, I notice him slipping his hands into his pockets.
Legs spread, and head cocked to the side, he resembles a dark vision of power––mysterious, alluring, imposing.
His legs kick off the ground, and I squeal, running toward the stairs. I crawl under the bed, hiding in our suite, thinking that’s the last place he’d look.
I hold my breath, waiting anxiously for him to search for me. Knowing him, he won’t leave a stone unturned. And when the door creaks open, I slap a hand on my mouth, but a small sound escapes, kicking my pulse up, sensations overcoming me.
“I can smell your dripping pussy. The longer it takes for me to find you, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he groans, the sound going straight between my legs, making my thighs clench.
I dig my fingers into the floor, not knowing if I want to run or end the chase.
In the dim light, I see his shoes reaching the foot of the bed. He just has to look underneath to find me. Each second ticks by with such intensity, it makes me lightheaded.
When I hear the door closing, I expel the breath I kept lodged inside and roll out, feeling proud of myself for having fooled him. On my hands and knees, I lift my head, only to come eye to eye with him.
He cocks his head, clicking his tongue as he watches me. A crooked smile paints his face. “Oh, baby girl, you thought I wouldn’t know where you’ve been hiding.”
Like a deer caught in the headlights, I freeze, not knowing how to react.
He crouches down, and I swallow. That mask does funny things to me. Even though I can clearly see his silver eyes that comfort me, his predatory stance pushes me out of my comfort zone.
“Please, let me go.” I don’t even know why I insist. He won.
It’s clear in his posture––in his labored breathing and his intense gaze that the game is over, and he’s going to enjoy ripping into his prey.
“I won’t. Next time a predator chases you, run for your life or hide better,” he says with finality.
He drags me up by my elbow. It’s so sudden that I don’t even register that I am on my feet before he throws me on the bed. I bounce on the mattress like a ragdoll and crab back. Dots scatter in my vision, my rapid pulse threatening to make me faint.
He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed, trapping me between the bed and his legs. With no way to escape, I surrender, embracing the darker appeal of seduction.
“Mika?”
“Yes, baby girl?” His voice softens, and he caresses my cheek. “Too much?”
My nerves instantly soothe. “You’re the best of too much. Thank you.”
I embrace the madness that snaps my sanity. I fall with open arms into the abyss of euphoria.
Pushing me onto my knees on the floor, he fucks my mouth while I dig my fingers into his ass to hold on and not slip into oblivion. Through the black mask, his silver eyes pop, skyrocketing my lust.
Slipping his leg between my legs, I ride it, needing to ease the unbearable pressure throbbing in my pussy.
“Don’t come.”
I mumble around a mouthful of cock when he pulls his cock out and slaps my face with it.
“Obey.”
I think I came a bit.
It takes everything in me not to come, pressing my thighs together to control the release trying to subdue me. I might break apart any moment as he keeps using my mouth.
His groans of pleasure echo around us as he pulls out to give me a breather. “Fuck. Jesus Christ…”
“Didn’t peg you as religious,” I breathe out, smirking.
He arches a brow etched in seriousness. “Any of your holes could convert me.”
Such a romantic.
He grips my chin and rubs his thumb along my cheek.
The intimate, caring gesture makes me forget for a moment about the whole consensual non-consent scenario we have going on.
I am safe with him. Safe and loved. And then he rips the dress from me.
The fabric falls in shreds around me, just like my grip on reality.
“On the bed, on your back. Bring your knees to your chest and hold them there.”
Moving into position, I wait for his next move, sucking in a breath. The mask makes him appear as if I am fucking another man.
“With that mask, it’s like…” I gulp.
His entire body pulls taut, muscles straining under his shirt. “God knows, you’ll never have or know any other man,” he groans and grazes his finger from my jaw, down my neck and the valley of my breasts. He circles one nipple before he twists one and my spine arches up.
“Oh my God…” He fucks with my mind just as proficiently as with my senses.
A growl reverberates in his chest. “Who is fucking you?”
“I don’t know…” I wet my lips. “But I know someone won’t be pleased if you do.”
“Yeah, and who is that?” He jerks his head at me, a twisted smirk curling up the corners of his mouth, giving him an even darker touch.
I can’t believe we’ve started an even more dangerous game.
“My man,” I whisper.
“Does your man know what a good slut you are for me?” he challenges, tone so low it edges on threatening.
A tremor rocks me, and I lick my lips as he snaps a photo of me.
He shows the pic to me for a moment. I barely register my blown-up pupils and the flush covering my face before he shoves the phone back in his pants. “I might send it to him afterward.”
I swallow hard. “He’ll kill you.”
“He can try.” He slaps my thighs apart. “Spread those legs wide for me.”
They fall open of their own accord, every fiber of my body set on obeying him.
“Good girl,” he praises in that deep voice of his that could make me do anything to please him.