Chapter 2
The next night, he broke in through my window like my worst nightmare—or the fantasy I’d begged for.
I’d left it cracked six inches, just enough for the summer air to drift in and cool the sweat on my skin. That was the lie I told myself while I stripped for the shower, heart already racing.
Truth was, I’d been wet since I’d woken up that morning, thighs slippery every time I remembered the alley, the brick scraping my cheek, and the way he’d flooded me and left me leaking his cum all the way home.
I was sore everywhere, and a sick and twisted part of me wanted my pussy to be even more sore with the after-effects of his raw and hard fucking.
The bathroom was thick with steam; the mirror was fogged solid. The hot water cascaded over me as I braced one hand against the tile and two fingers buried knuckle-deep in my cunt, thumb grinding my clit in frantic circles.
I was so close, whimpering at the thought of him and what he looked like naked and without the mask. But the mask turned me on even more.
Filthy, broken sounds ripped from my throat and echoed off the walls. I used my other hand to pinch and twist my nipple, chasing that brutal memory of teeth and pain and ownership.
It was the sound of the door easing open that had me freezing, fingers still lodged inside myself, water pounding my back like a second heartbeat. The shower curtain parted, and through the curtain of steam, the skull appeared, matte black, expression ominous.
Without saying a damn thing, he stripped, showcasing hard muscles, a defined physique, and an aura that screamed alpha male. His cock was already standing erect, the slit glossy with pre-cum
He stepped fully into the shower, looking like a dark god dragged up from hell.
My knees almost gave out right there.
I hadn’t moved, still facing the shower wall, fingers still fucking my pussy.
He didn’t speak. Just stared at me through those hollow sockets while the shower turned him into a living shadow.
I should have screamed.
Instead, my cunt clenched hard around my fingers, and I came with a choked sob, hips jerking, pussy juices gushing over my hand and down my thighs, washed away instantly by the water.
One massive hand wrapped around my throat from behind, pinning me face-first to the cold tile. My nipples scraped ceramic so hard they throbbed. His other foot kicked my legs wide until I was spread obscenely, water sluicing between my ass cheeks, over my swollen pussy lips.
“Miss me, slut?” His voice was pure gravel and sin.
I couldn’t answer. The only sound I could make was a desperate, wet moan that escaped me as he ground himself forward. The ridge of his cock dragged between my ass cheeks, thick and merciless. Could feel every vein. Could feel hardness, how huge he was.
I remembered how much he’d stretched me.
He slapped his cock against the small of my back. Then he notched the fat head at my pussy entrance and slammed home in one brutal stroke.
No warning. No mercy.
The stretch stole my breath, burned so good I screamed into the tile.
He bottomed out instantly, balls pressed tight to my clit, cock consuming every inch of me.
Water pounded over us as he started fucking me standing up, one arm banded under my breasts to hold me in place, the other hand wrapped around my neck, choking me just enough that black spots danced at the edges of my vision.
Every thrust lifted me onto my toes. My tits bounced painfully, nipples sliding across tile with every savage snap of his hips. He used me like a toy, like something built for his pleasure alone, grunting low behind the mask, hips pistoning, water splashing everywhere.
I came again almost immediately, pussy spasming around him squirting so hard it splashed his thighs. He didn’t slow just growled and fucked me through it, through the next climax until my legs were jelly and only his arm kept me upright.
Then he pulled out, spun me, and forced me onto my knees.
I hit the hard tile with a crack of pain that barely registered. Water streamed into my eyes, my mouth. He fisted my soaked hair in one hand, aimed that monstrous cock, slick with my cream and orgasm juices at my lips.
“Open.”
I did.
He fed himself into my mouth inch by brutal inch, stretching my jaw until it ached.
I gagged the second he hit my throat, eyes watering instantly, but he didn’t stop.
Just rocked forward, short, punishing jabs that forced me to take more until my nose was buried in the trimmed hair at his base and I couldn’t breathe.
Drool poured from my stretched lips mixing with the shower spray. He fucked my face like he’d fucked my cunt—ruthless and relentless—until my throat was raw and my chest burned for air.
When he came, it was with a guttural roar that vibrated through the mask.
The first jet hit the back of my throat so hard I choked and swallowed frantically, but he kept coming, flooding my mouth with thick pulses of jizz until it spilled over my chin and down my tits.
He pulled out just enough to paint my tongue and my lips with his spunk.
Then he smeared the overflow of his orgasm over my lips and into my mouth, making me suck them clean.
“Lick up every fucking drop,” he snarled.
I whimpered, licking greedily, tasting both of us.
He hauled me up by the hair, shut the water off, and pulled us out of the shower. But he wasn’t done with me. He bent me over the bathroom sink. The mirror was still fogged, but I could see the ghost of us, him towering behind me, skull mask dripping, my face wrecked and tear-streaked.
He spread my cheeks and spat on my asshole, once, twice, lubing that tight hole up so there was no confusion what the hell was going to happen.
He worked it in with his thumb while I sobbed and trembled.
Ever so smoothly, he pressed the head of his cock, rock-hard again and still slick with my spit, orgasm, and his cum, against that tight ring of muscle.
I braced myself and held my breath the second he pushed in.
He wasn’t rough, was even gentle as he worked that thick cock in and out, continuously spitting on his dick and my hole, making sure it was nice and lubed up for this ass fucking.
The burn was immense, white-hot, and impossible to ignore.
He didn’t stop, just continued to push forward inch by thick inch until his hips met my ass and I was impaled, stuffed so full I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
My hands scrabbled at the porcelain, fingers aching, as he let me feel every throbbing vein.
Then he started moving.
Slow. Torturously slow, dragging out until only the head remained, then sliding back in to the root. Each thrust forced a broken cry of pain and pleasure from my throat. And all the while, he kept spitting more saliva, making sure I was soaked and that my asshole was drenched for this.
My clit throbbed untouched, swollen and desperate. He reached around as if he read my mind, and pinched it hard between two fingers, rolling it viciously until I was pushing back on him, fucking myself on his cock. I begged in hoarse whispers for more, and he gave me everything.
The pace turned brutal. His hips slammed against my ass, the wet slap of skin echoing off tile. One hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back so I had to watch us in the clear patch of mirror—him in the mask, me ruined and crying and taking it like the perfect little whore he’d made me.
I came with his cock buried in my ass and his fingers at my clit. The orgasm was so intense my vision tunneled, pussy clenching on nothing. He growled, shoved deep, and flooded my ass with heated spunk, pulse after pulse until I felt it deep in my guts as he came a second time.
I collapsed against the sink, and he pulled out and lifted me into his arms, carrying me to the bed. We were a tangle of limbs on the mattress, his body pressed right up against me. Still damp from the shower, water cooled on our skin as my whole body trembled with aftershocks.
I didn’t know this man. He’d taken me roughly in an alley, taken something I hadn’t freely given him… at first. Yet, here we were embracing on my bed after he’d broken into my home and fucked me.
I must have fallen asleep because, when I woke, I was alone in my bed. A note scrawled in black marker on a torn piece of paper was on the nightstand.
Don’t wear panties tomorrow. Nothing else under your skirt. Or I’ll punish you twice as hard.
I stayed on the bed for a long time, fingers tracing the bruises already blooming on my hips and smiling like I’d lost my mind while his cum leaked from both holes.
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.