Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
KIARA
I’m frozen in surprise.
I knew it, I knew he’d be back tonight.
I fall to my side and turn to look at him. The mask he’s wearing this time is different from his usual one—it covers everything but his eyes which don’t leave mine as he licks my release from his fingers.
I thought I was dreaming.
I mean, I was dreaming—about him and the pleasure he can give me. But the thought of being with him again fills me with dread, because now this craziness is starting up again.
When I look at the space where my knife once was, I’m horrified to see that it’s gone.
“Looking for this?” he asks, echoing the first words he ever spoke to me three weeks ago. His voice is filled with amusement as he holds up the knife and waves it around tauntingly. His words are slightly muffled, and it’s then that I realize his mask doesn’t have an opening for his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper.
He tucks the knife into his boot and says, “I couldn’t stay away any longer, Kiara. I missed you.”
I don’t say anything, because if I open my mouth again, I might actually scream and wake up Grandma. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately, and I want her to get as much rest as she can.
“Did you miss me, too?” he asks again quietly, his smooth, deep voice rumbling over my heated skin.
Yes, I did. I just don’t want to admit it.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
The words are on repeat in my head, trying to convince myself that this man is just a figment of my imagination, and that what he just did to me didn’t actually happen.
“You need to leave,” I say coldly when I’m finally able to speak.
Those deep blue eyes are alight with mischief and amusement as he looks me up and down. It’s then that I remember I’m practically naked.
I snatch the comforter from the foot of the bed and cover myself with it.
“Get out!” I hiss, kicking my feet until my back is touching the headboard.
He reaches out and runs a hand over my leg in a soothing gesture, but I kick at him.
“Why are you being so hostile, Kiara? I thought you liked it when I touched you?”
I swallow dryly, slightly unnerved by his gentle tone. “I do,” I admit through gritted teeth.
A smirk curves his plush lips, and I can see his eyes darken with desire. “So, why are you afraid of me?”
My stomach is churning so badly with nerves. I can’t believe I’m finally saying all of this out loud—and to him, no less. “Because—I liked it. That’s the problem. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up.”
He scoots closer to me and trails his fingers along the inside of my thigh. Instead of pushing him away, I close my eyes and shiver from the feeling of his skin on mine, the cold metal of his rings cooling my heated flesh.
“If you’re fucked up, then so am I.”
Of course he would say that, because he wouldn’t still be pursuing me if he wasn’t just as crazy as I am. He represents a dark part of me that I thought had been long suppressed until that first night we met. Who gets off on being robbed? Normal people wouldn’t be turned on by their home being broken into, or a complete stranger pleasuring them like his life depends on it.
It’s sick.
Twisted.
But it feels so… right .
Being pushed against the wall at gunpoint, feeling his strong body pressed against me as I shamelessly used his body to chase my climax…
I shake the memory away. “You need to leave,” I say again.
“Not gonna happen,” he retorts.
“My grandmother is right across the hall.”
He just shrugs. “Did you forget what we did in her room when we first met, little butterfly? I don’t care what kind of audience we have when I put my hands on you.”
I open my mouth to snap back, but he goes to open one of my dresser drawers and pulls something out. He then goes to another drawer, pulls out a cloth, and walks into the bathroom. I hear the water run for a few seconds before he comes back to the bed and crouches next to me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, alarmed, as he grabs my hips, slides my panties to the side to uncover my clit, and turns me to face him. When he spreads my legs as far as they’ll go, a darkness shrouds his eyes as he looks over my heated sex.
“I need to taste you again,” he mumbles so quietly I barely hear him. I try to squeeze my legs closed, but he pushes them until my knees are resting against my breasts, lifts the mask, and runs his tongue over my throbbing clit. My arms give out as I fall back onto the mattress. I reach out to grab at his hair instinctively, but all I feel is the rough fabric of his mask.
“Take it off,” I plead breathlessly.
“Not a chance, baby,” he says playfully.
I’m disappointed, but the feeling quickly abates when he covers my pussy with his mouth and sucks me in. I cry out and arch my back from the immense pleasure he’s giving me. He presses his fingertips so painfully into the soft flesh of my thighs that I know they’ll be bruised tomorrow, but I don’t even care. I revel in the pain.
The thought of being marked by him makes me even wetter. My fingernails dig painfully into my palms as I grip the sheet. He licks and sucks until my screams of pleasure echo off the walls. I grind my hips against his tongue as I ride out my orgasm. My teeth chatter as my body trembles from having my second orgasm of the night.
After licking my release from his lips, he uses the damp cloth to clean me up. I come back down from the post-climax high when he opens my closet door and tosses the cloth into the dirty clothes hamper like he’s been here a million times before.
The realization that he most likely has been in here more times than I thought sits heavy within me.
“How many times have you been here?” I ask him, but he ignores the question as he comes back to the bed.
Tossing me a skimpy pair of shorts that barely cover my ass, the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile when he says, “Put this on. We’re going for a ride.”