52. Delaney
CHAPTER 52
Delaney
B efore I can react, the masked man plucks the knife out of my hand, tossing it behind him, then grabs me and spins me around, his gloved hand clamping over my mouth.
Jesus Christ. How does such a massive man move so quietly and quickly?
My fight instinct kicks in as I struggle against him.
I try to head butt him; he dodges it. I slam my foot down on his, but he moves it. I twist in his hold, getting my elbow loose and ram it back to connect with his chest, but he easily grabs it, stopping me. Predicting my every fucking move.
I’m sweaty and tired as I still, my warm breaths bouncing off his hand.
“Are you done?” His voice is mechanical like he’s using something to change it.
I slump in his arms slightly, inhaling the scent of his leather glove.
Then I spring into action, trying to headbutt him and ram my foot down on his. He easily avoids both maneuvers, his weird, mechanical-sounding laugh mocking me.
“Fucking asshole.” My voice is muffled by his large, gloved hand.
“Asshole, huh?”
He shifts slightly, his hand over my mouth loosening enough that I bite down on it.
Instead of wailing in pain and loosening his hold, the son of a bitch laughs. “Kinky. I like it.”
I spit out his gloved hand, the taste of leather left on my tongue disgusting.
Releasing my mouth, his hand slides to my throat.
I panic, fear slithering through my stomach, hissing like snakes. Nausea churns inside me as my breaths rasp in and out of my nose.
“Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to choke you. I promise.” His voice is beside my ear, the white mask in my peripheral vision.
Panic engulfs me as I’m seventeen, and my father’s hand grips my throat, choking me. I gasp before coughing, my lungs stuttering inside my chest, even though the masked man isn’t squeezing.
“Look at me.” His commanding voice is so close to my ear that I jolt. Despite whatever voice-altering device he’s using, the sound of it is still sexier than hell.
Yeah, I must be losing my mind.
I tilt my head, my gaze traveling over the mask and to a pair of dark irises. They are both strange yet familiar, terrifying yet comforting, leaving me so confused that I don’t fight him.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Desire flares in his irises like gasoline feeds a flame.
My mouth and lips are dry, and when I part them, my tongue darts out, wetting them. The growl that comes from him, rumbling against my back, makes my panties wet.
“W-Who are y-you?” It comes out as a choked whisper despite him not applying any pressure to my throat.
As promised, his hand rests there, not squeezing. I suspect that he’s doing it to show his dominance.
He doesn’t need to squeeze to control me. Simply staring at me with a ravenous hunger burning in his eyes, his hard cock pressing against my ass, while his other hand lightly rests on my stomach is enough.
What is wrong with me? I’m stronger than this.
“I’m everything you didn’t know you wanted and desperately needed.”
My brows furrow as his words penetrate my sluggish brain. What the hell does he mean by that?
“Your defenses won’t work. Neither will your anger. You’re not fighting me because you’re intrigued. You feel safe with me.”
His words spark that ember of panic that is ever present inside me. “Wrong. I don’t?—”
His hand slides from my stomach to my breast. My nipple is stiff through the thin fabric, the cool night air teasing it. But his gloved hand rubbing lightly over it makes it worse.
I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but instead, a damn whimper comes. Humiliation burns my cheeks as I stare at him, horrified at my reaction to this masked man.
I swear he smirks from behind the mask.
Before I can chew him out, his voice floats through the air, cutting through the electricity burning between us. “Don’t. I won’t believe your lies.” His hand slides to the other breast, giving it attention. “Not when I see the hunger on your face.”
It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man. That’s why I’m acting this way.
His hand slides to my pussy, and every thought inside my head vanishes as he rubs me. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I reacting like this to a masked man?
“Let me rub your clit until you break apart, gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear.
I know it’s wrong, but I nod and whisper, “Yes.”
His hand immediately dips inside my yoga pants. I moan, sinking into him as I spread my legs wider like a sex-starved woman.
“Mmmm. I love a woman who knows what she wants.”
His hand moves away from my pussy and my neck, and I whimper.
“Relax, beautiful. I’m just taking my glove off. I need to feel your wet pussy.”
I hear the thud as his glove hits the ground. His hand slides beneath the waistband of my pants and my panties, moving lower. When his fingers press against my clit and then rub it in a circular motion, a loud moan falls from my lips. I sink against him, allowing him to support my weight.
“That’s it, gorgeous. I’ve got you. Relax against me.”
Jesus Christ. This masked man has me soaked.
“Fuck.” He rubs my clit faster, his voice shaking from excitement. “Let me finger you while playing with your clit. Goddamn, I need to feel that wet?—”
“Yes. Please, yes.”
His finger rubs over the outside of my lips, teasing me before slowly sinking inside.
“God.” My eyes close as every nerve in my body lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“Eyes on me, gorgeous. I wanna watch your beautiful face as I pleasure you.”
I obey, my eyes opening and locking with his. I’m drowning in them, completely at his mercy, as he touches me.
His fingers vanish, leaving me wanting. I’m about to protest but don’t have time. He’s already got my pants and panties pooled around my ankles.
“Lift.” He’s kneeling behind me, his masked face close to my bare ass. I lift my foot, and he yanks off my sneaker, then does the same with my other foot before pulling my pants over my bare feet.
My thong is next. I shiver, but not from the cold. It’s naughty to be out on the porch, my pussy and ass exposed to a stranger.
He stands up, yanking me against him. I moan as I feel his cock pressing against my ass.
“Fuck.” He grips my hips, stopping my movement. “Slow down, gorgeous.”
I stare at him, pleading for whatever he’ll give me.
“Foot on the railing.”
“W-What?”
“I want you wide open for me, gorgeous. Foot on the railing.”
I lift my leg, failing the first time I try it. He grabs my leg, helping me.
“You’re flexible. You’ve got this.” His hand slides back to my pussy, his finger going inside while his thumb works my clit.
I slump against him, my needy pussy practically purring as I stare into the depths of his dark irises. “Whatever you want.”
The feminist in me is raging, throwing shit as she watches me acting like a fool for a man I don’t know. But the sexual part of me is bored with toys and my fingers.
He adds a second finger, his thumb moving over my clit faster as he fingers me in such a way that has me whimpering, moaning, and panting.
“Fuck, this pussy is so wet and tight.”
My cheeks flush from the embarrassing sounds coming from me. I’m soaking him, so damn wet I feel the moisture running down the inside of my leg.
My embarrassment fades as he curls his fingers. I roll my hips against his hand.
He’s playing me like a fiddle. I’m not gonna last much longer.
“Don’t hold back. Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”
I’m sure I’m staring at him like a fan worshiping a celebrity as he fingers me like he’s been doing it his entire life. I’m putty in his hands. My body is like a rollercoaster, slowly climbing the hill. I know when I hit the top and crest the other side, I will break apart.
He curls his fingers inside me while circling my clit faster. I reach the top and then fall over the edge, a scream coming from my lips.
The masked man stays with me, a growl escaping him as my pussy pulses against his fingers, gripping onto him as he rings me out like a wet cloth. My breaths rasp from my lips as I pant, my body boneless and weightless.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
His words cause my eyes to widen. The delicious post-orgasmic haze vanishes like a fog lifting from the mountains.
His gloved hand lifts, stroking my cheek. “Such a good girl.” His touch is intoxicating as his hypnotic eyes hold me captive. “You haven’t been pleased by a man in a long time, have you?”
I shake my head, embarrassment wafting over me.
I feel his smile behind the mask as he helps me lower my leg to the floor. “Bend over and grab the railing.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not gonna let some guy I don’t know fuck?—”
“I’m not putting my cock in you.” He moves me around like I’m his posable doll, bending me over so my ass sticks out.
His palm lightly smacks my ass, and I gasp before a moan slips out. “I’m gonna take my time with you, gorgeous. Putting my dick inside you is on the agenda, but not right now. You’ll be begging for it by the time I’m through with you.”
I start to protest, but he lightly smacks me again. “Mouth shut.” Then he slides a finger inside my pussy, gently pumping in and out. “The only sounds I wanna hear from you are moans, whimpers, pants, and screams.”
My pussy is primed from that last orgasm. Plus, this guy is amazing with his hands.
I look over my shoulder at him, a flirtatious smile on my face. “What if I get the urge to scream out your name? What should I call you?”
“Yours.”
I moan again as he continues fingering me. But I force my thoughts back to his words. “Why?”
He fingers me faster, his voice shaking from excitement. “Because I belong to you.”