Chapter 9 – Nicole #2
The candle dropped beside us. I was done. Broken. Unable to compete with this monster. I ground my hips against him, meeting his desperate thrusts.
“My angel likes the pain,” he murmured. “Such a glutton for punishment. But I am too.”
I held onto him, frantically riding his cock. Something that sounded a hell of a lot like surrender escaped my throat. The mewling cry only made him laugh.
“Bite me. Bite my shoulder,” he commanded, pumping deep into my core.
My teeth sank into his flesh.
Cristiano groaned. “Good, so good. Don’t stop touching yourself.”
I slid my hand between our bodies. The brush of my fingers against my throbbing pussy sent me over the edge. I cried out. My body jerked violently. Inside, the muscles convulsed.
“Come, my sweet angel, that’s it. Fucking come for me!” he groaned.
Pleasure rolled through me in rhythmic waves, my muscles clenching him over and over. A shudder rolled through his whole body. He bowed off the floor, thrusting deep as he emptied himself inside me.
I laid there as the surge of triumph and defeat rolled through me in an intoxicating euphoria. I should have known a monster like him was impossible to break. But damn if it wasn’t fun trying.
When Cristiano lowered himself to the floor, I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head against his chest. His heartbeat pounded against my ear. As the minutes slipped by, it began to slow.
This thing between us was more than sex.
Each thump of his heart was a promise I didn’t dare hope to believe. My midnight monster kept coming back for more. But what I wanted, what I didn’t dare tell him, was that I wanted the mask off.
I wanted my Tino to stay.
The kernel of fear whispered through my mind. What if I wasn’t worth the trouble? I certainly didn’t have my life together. My family was always reminding me how short I measured. What if the mask came off this, and there was no possibility of a relationship?
I shuddered.
And kept my lips sealed.
“I thought for sure that you were going to take off the mask,” he confessed, breaking the silence.
“I still could,” I mumbled.
He chuckled roughly. “It’s part of the game, angel. And you’re enjoying yourself far too much to stop now.”
“Mhmm….” I rubbed my cheek against him. But the skin wasn’t smooth.
Pulling back, I flicked the bead of hard wax off. Red, angry skin marked his otherwise beautifully carved muscles.
“Did I….” I chewed my lip. “Was it too much?”
Cristiano flexed his hips. His cock, still semi-erect and buried inside me, pulsed. “You tell me?”
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t tell if your refusal to use the safe word was out of pride or stupidity.”
He leaned forward. The chin of the ghostly mask bumped against my own chest. “Neither. I’m unbreakable.”
I rubbed the wax off my skin. “Okay, then.”
Laying my palm on his stomach, I brushed the beads and lines off his skin. I was delaying the inevitable. I planned this game. I sprang the trap on him. But now…what?
“The moment you unleash me, I’m coming for you, Nicky,” he promised as if reading my thoughts.
I gulped. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up all night.”
He tipped his head to the back door. “Night’s almost over, baby.”
My gaze shifted to the already pinkening sky. “Oh no!”
I shot off him, the sudden movement making him groan. I fumbled for my hoodie, wrenching it over my arms.
“You have to go! I have to clean this up before—”
The front door swung open. Tired footsteps clattered over the threshold.
I stifled a yelp and lunged for him. I flicked the release on the ratchet strap. “My sister’s here,” I hissed. “You have to go, and—”
Thick fingers caught my throat. Cristiano slammed me against the base of the counter, his mask right next to my ear. “Go. Run while you can, angel.” His fingers flexed before they loosened. “But know that I’m coming back for you.”
I whimpered.
My insides clenched, and wetness trailed down the inside of my thighs.
“Go, I’ll clean this up,” he commanded and let me free.
I scrambled to my feet and scampered out of the kitchen without looking back.
Amanda blinked at me. “Nicole! What the hell are you doin—What are you wearing?”
I tugged on the sleeves of my hoodie, hoping to all that was holy that the evidence of what just happened wasn’t staining the red satin skirt of the nightgown flowing around my legs.
“I woke up late!” I explained, knowing that my voice sounded high and squeaky. Taking a deep breath, I added, “I wanted to make you a real breakfast after your flight. It was the least I could do since you took the trouble to come here a day early.”
My sister stared at me as if I’d grown a second head. “I’ll just have some egg whites and a protein shake. I don’t need sugar and carbs.”
Miss High Maintenance with an image complex was back.
“Okay, you sure? I have a great pecan French toast recipe I’ve been dying to make,” I panted.
Amanda came forward and wrapped me in a hug. I returned it, hoping I didn’t smell like sex. “I’m going to shower the all-nighter at the office and the plane ride off, then we’ll talk about—” she gestured to me “—this.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Talk about what?”
“Why do you look like you just came from a bad porno?” She arched a brow.
“It’s European to sleep in cute things.” I swiveled my hips. “Quit being so American.”
Amanda nodded slowly. “I’ll stick to sweatpants and tees, thank you very much.”
“Go shower.” I shooed her with my hands. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“No carbs,” she warned.
“Fine, no coffee either, I assume.”
Amanda paused on the stairs. “Well, since it’s Christmas…do you have any of that Stevia vanilla creamer you made last summer?”
“Already made a batch,” I grinned.
“Gawd, you’re the best, sis.” She lifted her teeny, tiny suitcase up the stairs. How the woman traveled that light was beyond me. The moment she was safely out of earshot, I rushed back to the kitchen, ready to help my monster.
Only…he was gone. So were the boobie traps. The steak knife was in the sink, and the candle was relit and on the counter. Under it was a note:
I’m making a list, and your name is the only one on it. You’d better not pout, be ready to cry and beg, because I’m coming back.
P.S. I stole some of your sugar cookies. Needed to refuel after that round.
The botched attempt at rhyming with the Christmas carol warmed me thoroughly. It wasn’t the promise of something more, but it was a promise that there would be more of this. For now, that had to be enough.
Maybe next time I would be brave enough to unmask him. To see if our chemistry could go the distance and translate into a relationship that stood the test of life, coming from the shadows into the light.
I tore a paper towel, dabbed it between my legs, and tugged my cotton sleeper shorts back over my hips. By the time my sister stumbled back into the kitchen, I had her unimaginative omelet in a pan and a coffee with low-calorie, homemade creamer waiting.
“What’s that smell?” she moaned, peering into the oven.
“It’s cookie decorating day,” I quipped.
Amanda groaned. “You’re bad for my waistline.”
“And your negativity isn’t welcome. It’s Christmas!” I pointed the silicone spatula at her. “Cheer up, and get with the program.”
“Let me have my coffee and protein first, then we’ll negotiate the Christmas cookies,” she said with a smile.
I turned back to the stove. The pan shimmied over the burner, and with a flick of my wrist, I tossed the omelet with perfect precision.
“Sssoooo, what’s his name?” Amanda asked.
My eyes snapped wide. I fought to school my features before turning around. “Whose name?”
“Whoever snuck out the back door while I was upstairs,” she countered. “Come on, Nicole, don’t play dumb with me. I saw him out the back window.”
Busted. “Kris Kringle.”
Amanda snorted. “Okay, fine. Keep your secrets. But since you’ve never brought a guy home, I thought this one might be different.”
I hope he is. He was my Tino. The boy my heart knew without a shadow of a doubt.
I plated her bland food and shoved it toward her. “Let’s just say he’s everything a girl could wish for.”
Amanda stabbed her food. “Then I’m happy for you, sis.”
Me too…me too.