Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Luna
The initial invasion is a brutal, tearing thrust that splits me apart as he forces his way into me, every inch of him, hot and hard. Tears sting, and a ragged scream claws its way out of my throat, more pain than pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt.
“Fuck, Luna.” The words rip from somewhere deep in his chest, as if torn from his soul.
He withdraws, only to slam back in, a white-hot burn searing my insides as he stretches me. Tears pour down my cheeks, my body struggling to accommodate his brutal intrusion.
His thighs press against mine, the denim of his jeans rubbing against my bare skin.
Every ridge, every vein of his cock drags along my inner walls as he moves within me, stoking a fire that grows with each slow plunge, a desperate, fleeting moment of reprieve before the next inevitable thrust. My body responds, slickening, easing his path as he drives into me, and soon the pain dissolves into something more—a deep, pulsing ache inside my core that radiates outward.
Lightning races from my scalp to my toes as he fills me. My body stretches and reshapes itself around him. Thought fragments and scatters, the world narrowing to this—his weight, his heat, the way I come apart and rebuild in the space of a heartbeat. This moment of absolute surrender.
My head falls to the table, the cool wood meeting burning skin, a stark contrast to the fire raging within. Every thrust is a brand, a claim, and, God help me, I don’t want him to stop.
His hands roam my body, rough and possessive, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
“You feel so fucking good, Luna. I knew you’d feel like this.”
His words are not for me but a confession wrung from deep inside him. Heat floods through me at the knowledge that I unravel him just as he destroys me.
His breath is hot on my back, his heart pounding against my spine.
The storm of sensation pulls me under and drowns me.
His thrusts are brutal and punishing, stealing my breath and my sanity with each drive of his hips.
I watch our reflection in the window, his masked figure looming behind me, my body jerking with each movement.
I want to see his face beneath that mask, see the expression that matches the raw, primal rhythm of his body, because we look feral and wild, and it takes my breath away.
My nipples drag against the wood, friction that shoots straight to my core. His hand slides around, fingers finding my clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until my breath catches in small, broken sounds that echo around us.
“I’m never going to stop fucking you, Luna.” His lips are hot on my neck, his words a dark, erotic litany. “You feel like heaven on earth.”
He picks up the pace, pounding into me harder, each thrust stealing my breath, stealing my soul, and it’s frightening and exhilarating all at once.
My body trembles, the pleasure building, cresting, and threatening to consume me.
His hand tangles in my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my neck.
His other hand snakes around, finding my throat, and squeezing.
Panic surges through me, my heart pounding, my lungs burning, and I thrash beneath him, tears again stinging my eyes.
His fingers return to my clit, relentless, driving me higher, even as his other hand tightens around my windpipe.
Shit! He’s going to kill me.
The silver mask hovers at the edge of my vision, a constant reminder of the enigma that is this man who is commanding my body so completely.
“Look at me.” The words sound shredded, like they clawed their way out of his throat.
I turn my face, meet his gaze through the mask, and what I see there—possession, desire, something darker, and more dangerous—rips the last thread of my control and sends me spiraling over the edge.
My vision fractures, and my orgasm slams into me, a brutal, electrifying force, just as his fingers release me. Air rushes into my lungs, and I’m coming again, right on top of the first one.
“That’s it, baby, breathe.” Convulsions wrack my body, and my climax goes on and on as he drives deeper, his rhythm faltering. “Oh, fuck, yes, you fucking squeeze me so good, Luna.”
With a final, brutal thrust, he goes rigid above me, every muscle in his body drawn taut as he pulses inside me. I burst into tears, sobs wracking my body as he hovers over me. His lips find the curve of my neck, hands stroking, caressing, and soothing, while dark praise flows from his mouth.
“My perfect girl. So beautiful when you fall apart for me.”
The tenderness in his voice splits my chest open. More sobs pour out, one after another, filling the kitchen’s silence with wet, gasping sounds.
His weight pins me to the table, his cock still buried inside while my breath comes in ragged gasps that take forever to even out.
When he finally pulls out, the drag of it makes me bite down on my lip.
My inner walls clench, grasping at what’s no longer there, and the hollow ache left behind makes me flinch.
Fabric rustles and a zipper rasps behind me, and then his fingers are tracing down my spine again, stopping at the small of my back.
“Don’t move.”
A laugh wants to bubble up but dies in my throat.
Moving requires muscles I no longer have control over.
My legs won’t hold me, and my arms shake where they’re still bound behind my back.
I turn my face, resting my cheek on the table, watching as he walks across the kitchen to the sink.
He grabs a dishtowel from the counter and runs it under the water.
He returns. The zip tie cuts into my wrists as he pulls me upright, lifting me to sit on the table again.
The damp cloth passes over my face, cool against hot skin, as he washes away the evidence of my tears, my pleasure, and his claim, wiping salt tracks from my cheeks.
I must look destroyed—eyes puffy, cheeks blotched, nose running.
Yet his touch is gentle, tender, almost reverent, though something pulses beneath, an undercurrent of darkness, a promise of more to come.
He lowers the towel between my thighs. “I knew fucking you bare would be perfection.”
Those words slice through the haze of aftershocks simmering inside me. “You didn’t wear a condom.”
He arches a brow, lips curling at one corner. “You’re a bit late to the party on that one, beautiful. But no matter. I’ll never wear a condom with you, Luna.”
I shift toward the table’s edge. His palms slam down on my thighs, fingers digging in to anchor me.
“Let me go. This was completely irresponsible. I can’t believe we didn’t use protection.”
“I will only ever fuck you bare, Luna.”
“I’m not having unprotected sex with someone who won’t tell me who he is or show me his face.”
His fist wraps around my hair, wrenching my head back, his mouth hot against my ear. “Are you on birth control?”
I hiss. Pain shoots through my scalp as I fight his grip. “Birth control doesn’t protect against STDs.”
“Do you have any STDs?” His tongue traces the length of my neck while his palm glides over my skin, fingers slipping between my thighs to stroke where I’m still raw. A spark jolts through me, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Maybe. You should have thought of that before you fucked me without a condom.”
He chuckles again, a dark, sinful sound that makes my pussy clench. He groans as my body responds, coating his fingers with fresh arousal.
How can I be aroused again already?
“I’ve seen your medical records, love, and you’re squeaky clean.”
I pull against the zip-tie, trying to twist my hips away. His fist tightens in my hair, and pain flares at my scalp.
“How do I know you didn’t give me anything? Please stop, that hurts.”
His grip releases. My hair tumbles free, waves spilling over my shoulders. A shiver flickers up my spine as his fingertips trail a hot, feather-light path from my jaw to my ribs, tracing the hollow there before settling at my hip. “I’d never risk you like that, little doe.”
“That’s such a demeaning name.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s full of adoration for the beautiful, gentle creature you are.”
His words sink into me like honey through cracks, warming places I didn’t know were cold.
Then one finger parts my slick folds. The tip slides inside, pulling a gasp from my throat.
My muscles grip him as his thumb finds my swollen clit, circling, each press setting off a tremor that surges down to my toes.
I brace against the sensation, but my nipples tighten into hard points, craving the warmth of his mouth.
“Stop.” Panic and heat mingle in my chest. “We can’t do this again without a condom. If you don’t have one, I have some upstairs.”
What the hell? Did I just offer him condoms?
They’re old, from the early days of Caleb’s and my relationship. We used them for a few months at the beginning, then stopped once we decided to be exclusive. Shit, they’re probably expired by now. But something is better than nothing.
“Well, we’ll have to get rid of those, won’t we?
” His teeth graze the shell of my ear. His finger probes deeper, and my thighs tremble as a white-hot wave of sting blossoms into pleasure.
“I’ll never wear a condom with you, Luna.
I’ll always come inside you, deep and thick, until it drips down your thighs. ”
Jesus Fucking Christ!
Need coils inside me, tighter than the restraint around my wrists. My body clenches, clinging to his teasing touch.
My heart lurches. Am I going to let him do this? Let him take me without a condom again?
“If your birth control isn’t up to date, you’d better get that taken care of tomorrow.” His breath is ragged against my neck. “But that won’t stop me from coming in you tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or the next night.”
He groans as he lowers his head and sinks his teeth into my nipple. A low moan rattles out from my throat before my mind can protest.
He slides a second finger inside, curling it. Heat roars through my veins. My bound hands clench behind my back. My head tips back, another moan tearing from my lips against my will, my body arching toward him.
Shit! Why is my reaction to his words, to the idea of having sex with him without a condom, so visceral?
“Why do you want to come inside me? Is this some twisted breeding kink?”
His lips curve, and he lifts his head. “No. I’m not interested in being anyone’s father. But there will never be anything between us. Now, zip it, beautiful, or I’ll gag you with your underwear, and believe me, you’ll love how you taste when you’re screaming for me.”
He pulls his fingers free, and I whimper at the sudden void. I press my hands against the table behind me, wanting—needing—to somehow push back against the raw desire coursing through me.
I wrench my head up, searching the shadows behind his mask, aching to see the man underneath it. Wishing I knew his name. Wishing I knew why he burns all rational thought out of me.
“Lay back, little doe.”
He guides my shoulders until I’m flat against the table, my hips tilting just enough to spare my wrists. He spreads my thighs wide, his shadow falling over me like a promise.
“What… what are you going to do to me?” My voice trembles between fear and desire.
His fingertips drift along my inner thighs, each caress igniting fireworks of sensation. He drops to his knees, breath hot, and his tongue finds my tender, battered flesh.
I arch into him, surrendering to the delicious destruction he vowed.
He promised to break me, ruin me, and with every trembling breath, I fear he just might have.