Chapter 78
Holy shit.
I’ve never considered masks as a thing I’d be into.
However, the way the pink light halos Ripley’s dark shaggy hair as he looms ominously behind me awakens a new thirst for something dark and forbidden.
He’s the only thing I want, the only thing I see.
The neon light blacks out the surroundings.
I’m barely able to make his body out below the tattooed chest.
“Wow,” I rasp, as he withdraws his teasing touch, fixing the thong back over me.
Ripley raises his fingers to the mask, inhaling deep.
Something knots tight in my gut at the sight.
It’s as primal as the rumble in his chest. Slipping his fingers under the edge of the plastic, Rip’s breath huffs out, loud as it escapes the confines of the mask.
He sucks his fingers clean with an exaggerated pop, the filthy action making an involuntary whimper escape my lips.
“It’s such a shame you’re so stubborn, flower.
I’d love to worship you like this until you’re crying for me. ”
“Ripley, please.” My voice is whiney, pathetic, but when he talks like that, I can’t help the mess I become.
Something drags over my hip, splaying across the base of my spine. I know what it is based on feeling alone. I did my research on impact play, even if I never had a partner to explore with. I clench in anticipation of the first taste of pain.
In the low light, Rip lifts his hand, flicking his wrist in a circular motion. The small stings flare across my skin, dissipating to a warming sensation.
“You okay?” he asks.
“More,” I mewl, and he chuckles low, dangerous.
The flogger trails up my spine as he lands three more light strikes.
“You hit like a bitch,” I taunt, the ache between my fucking legs running my mouth.
“Is that so? Seems like you’re trying to piss me off to get what you want.”
“So? You want something from me too.”
“Yes, I do. And I realized I won’t get it by giving you what you want, my little masochist, I’ll get it by dangling what you desire just out of reach.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“Nah, not yet. Not until you give me answers.” Ripley’s hand sinks into my hair, body moving around to my side. He holds me tight, completely immobilized, landing another three swats to my tender ass cheek.
Three.
It’s always three.
Enough to awaken the heat, not enough to get me anywhere but frustrated.
He guides me up by his grip on my hair. The eerie mask glares down at me, his obsidian eyes barely discernible through the blinding light.
Releasing my curls, his hand travels down, teasing over my nipple as it drags across my abdomen. His fingers slip beneath the lace, grazing my clit, rubbing slow.
Harder this time, the tails of the flogger snap across my ass. The stark change pulls a cry from my chest.
“Oh, my needy flower,” he coos, “tell me…do you ache?” His breath moves across my skin, the plastic of the mask warmed by the heat of him brushes the shell of my ear.
Rip’s fingers slip inside, collecting my arousal.
Moving back to my thumping bundle of nerves, they circle agonizingly slow and firm.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Don’t you want me?”
“You know I do.”
“I stretch and fill you so good, don’t I?”
I nod, pulling against my binds as I wind my hips, pressing into his hand. “Perfectly,” I pant.
“Then why won’t you tell me and end both our torture?”
Rip whips me again, the lashes pelting across my flushed, welted skin, as he pinches my clit. My orgasm starts to bloom, head falling back as I surrender to the feeling. Not giving a flying fuck about the repercussions.
Rip steps away, yanking the euphoria out at the roots.
“Ugh!” I scream, the frustration mounting.
“Answer. Now.”
“Death. I was ready for fucking death,” I shriek.