Chapter 4
FOUR
GRACIE
Ashiver rolls through me as his words register. His voice is low and husky, and there’s a hint of familiarity in it that I can’t quite place, the previous two orgasms already scrambled my brain, but the feeling of him filling me makes me lose all other sensibilities.
“Give me more,” I whisper hoarsely. “Give me everything.”
God, I need it. I need all of him.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
A low sound rumbles from him before he mutters, “It’d be my pleasure.”
But the only pleasure I can focus on is mine as he slowly pulls out of me until only his tip remains.
He thrusts his hips forwards in one quick motion, pulling a whimper from my lips and my body moves on its own accord, grinding against him with a needy hiss as I wordlessly demand for him to keep going.
He chuckles and the deep sound rumbles through me, only spurring me on as I continue to meet his thrusts.
His gloved hand wraps around my neck as his other grabs my hip in a bruising grip.
It’s so fucking hot, feels so damn good that I’m right there on the precipice once more.
The loss of my vision only heightens my other senses and the feeling of his hands on me, the sound of his heavy breathing and the scent of us both filling the room make me even more feral for him.
Finally, fucking finally, my brain has shut off, none of the usual chaos swirling around my mind is there.
It’s blissfully quiet as I focus on the feeling of him taking my body like he owns it.
And I guess for tonight, he does.
It’s just a shame this has to be a one-time thing.
I’d love nothing more than to turn around and have him take me while I’m lying on my back without the blindfold and without the mask. I’d love to know what he looks like when he’s not wearing the disguise, but that would break the illusion of it.
And the mystery is half the fun.
“I love the way you take me, Gracie,” he rasps against my ear, and I moan before a huff of breath hits my neck as though he’s holding in his laugh. “So needy. So desperate for me, aren’t you, babe?”
Asshole.
He knows he’s torturing me.
He knows I’m right on the verge of coming, so he’s holding back.
“I-I need—” I cut off with a whine when he slows down further.
“What was that? Use your words for me, love.”
“I need more,” I grouse. “I need you to fuck me. I need you to wreck me. Please give me more. I need it. Please.”
The hand gripping my waist slides around to my front and hovers above my clit before he whispers, “Fuck, love. You beg so prettily for me.”
The moment his fingertips find my clit, I. Shatter.
Pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before rushes through me, rendering me lost to everything. My already dark vision completely blackens, blood rushes to my ears as my head swims and I lean into it, not ready for the euphoria to end just yet.
He’s a drug, and I’m dangerously close to addiction.
I can feel him still fucking me, whispering dirty words in my ear as his movements become erratic until he finally shudders behind me, emptying his release into the condom and for one horrifying minute, I find myself wishing that there wasn’t a barrier between us, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum inside of me.
Thank fucking God this is only a one-night thing because continuous thoughts like that would have me questioning my sanity.
His heavy breathing slows, and I feel the moment reality snaps us both back to the present.
He moves away from me and slowly slides out. I don’t move as I hear him rustling around, no doubt discarding the condom and putting himself back together—mask included.
His body heat covers mine once more, but only for a fleeting second as he removes the belt from my face, and I blink as the light from the room suddenly hits me.
He rights my dress and attaches the belt back in place at an achingly slow pace, being gentle as hell—which is a complete contrast to the brutal fucking he’s just given me—as though he’s savoring every second, which can’t possibly be right.
We don’t know each other.
This is nothing more than an anonymous hookup.
Something that I will never tell anyone about since it’s so wildly out of character for me.
I’m not the girl who has random one-night stands with guys she doesn’t know.
I’m the boring one.
The invisible one.
I’m Cole Aston’s little sister.
No one ever sees me as anything more than that.
“Are you okay?” he asks in the distorted voice, though it sounds lower than it did before, as though he’s whispering and the voice modulator can’t quite make sense of it.
“I’m good,” I mumble and turn to face him.
As soon as I turn, he takes two steps back, as if he’s afraid of being close to me.
Strange.
Then again, nothing about this night has been normal.
He stares for a moment, as if he’s trying to take a mental picture before walking backwards towards the door.
He spins around and opens it but just as he’s about to step through the threshold he pauses, turning his head to glance at me over his shoulder.
My heartbeat picks up as I imagine a handful of different scenarios.
Will he walk back over here and take me into his arms?
Will he remove the mask?
Will he ask to see me again?
Will he ask for my number?
Will he tell me it was a mistake?
“I’ll be seeing you soon, love.”
And with that, he’s gone, leaving me to stand and stare at the empty doorway, apprehension filling me.
What the hell did that mean?
He plans to see me again?
No.
He was probably just saying that.
That’s a thing people say after hooking up with someone, right?
I wouldn’t know.
I’ve only ever slept with one person before, and that was my ex-boyfriend.
Filing it away for later, I leave the club in a daze after letting the girls know I’m heading back to my dorm.
I’m on autopilot as I shower and get ready for bed, and as soon as my body hits the mattress, the night replays in my mind all over again.
The way he handled my body like it was made for him, the way he felt against me, the words he spoke…
“I’ll be seeing you soon, love.”
“Another.”
“Close your eyes, babe.”
“Anything you want, love.”
“You beg so prettily for me.”
“Use your words for me, love.”
“So needy. So desperate for me, aren’t you, babe?”
“I love the way you take me, Gracie.”
My entire body jolts as I replay the words in my head, and it takes me a few minutes to make sure I’m remembering things correctly.
I am.
I’m goddamn sure I am.
I can hear the words so clearly, with the raspy tilt of his voice and his breath against my ear, I’m positive of it.
The entire night, we were strangers.
Anonymous.
He called me Gracie.
And I never told him my name.