Chapter 7 Bates
“How’d you get in here?” she asks without trying to turn and face me. Her voice is steady, but I don’t miss the uptick in her heartbeat, her carotid thumping aggressively against my fingers.
“The door was open.”
Angling her head, I get a view of half her face, able to see the squint in her eyes and purse of her lips.
“Liar. It was locked. Were you at the party? Unmasked?”
“No.” My honest answer surprises me, but I don’t want to lie to her more than I already have about who I am.
“Then how did you see me? Did you have a spy here?”
“Something like that.” I change the subject, not wanting to give away too much … not yet. “Forget it. Did you miss me?”
She swallows hard before her lips lift into a playful smirk. “Maybe.”
While I may have entertained her initial questions, that doesn’t change the reason I’m here—to remind her who’s in control, like she asked me to.
An image of that guy eye-humping her flashes in my mind, and my blood boils. I know she didn’t flirt back. But that doesn’t ease the murderous feeling deep in my bones.
Tilting her head back, I force her gaze to look straight up into the mesh hearts covering my eyes, the top of her head pressed against my chest. She somehow finds my stare effortlessly, as if she can see behind my mask. “Try again.”
Her lips purse once, and a challenging gleam flashes in her eyes. “And if I don’t?”
I tighten my grip on her throat, harder than she expected, and her eyes bulge. Using my flat hand on her stomach, I tug her roughly back into me until her ass is flush with my dick. Then I grind my hips forward against her, my cock throbbing from the sensation.
A nearly silent whimper vibrates beneath my fingers wrapped around her throat, and I roll my hips into her once more, rocking her against the table in front of us.
“You wanted me to remind you, Little Cupid? Hmm?” I growl. “It will be my pleasure.”
She stares up at me with a look that reminds me of a baby deer. Unsure. Nervous. Frozen in place while looking into the eyes of a predator double its size.
I can’t help but be reminded of her reaction earlier, when she ran into my unmasked self at the arena.
She didn’t cower or back down, but I could practically see the goose bumps rising on the tops of her arms and the hairs on her neck standing on end.
She was on edge, nervous, unsure of her next step.
Her words from earlier echo in my mind. An overcompensation for the way she truly feels. “I’d have no problem dating a hockey player. As long as they weren’t you.”
I just don’t know who she was trying to convince more—me or herself.
Still, there it was … that undeniable heat between us, blazing deep inside our souls. I know she felt it. I saw it, burned into the soft flush of her cheeks.
As much as she wants to deny it, she’s into both versions of me.
Maybe she recognized something similar in my voice or the way I moved, but I find that hard to believe, or she would’ve called me out on the spot. She’s way too strongheaded to play along knowingly.
For now, with the mask over my face, she wants my touch, and I’ll happily give it to her. But I’m also going to show her what happens when she’s a brat.
My fingers trail down her stomach, her hip, and her thigh until they reach the hem of her dress, slipping just beneath the seam. Dropping my shoulder enough to stroke the inside of her thigh, I palm her silky skin and force her legs apart, balancing her weight with my hand around her throat.
“Let’s see just how much you enjoyed toying with me … challenging me.” I sweep my fingers across the soaking wet lace. “Such a fucking brat. You’re drenched.”
Her pupils dilate, her breath quickening as I glide two fingers up her center, resting them against her clit, sheathed beneath the lace.
I apply the slightest pressure and circle the bundle of nerves. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she melts in my embrace.
She’s getting off on this as much as I am. The thrill. The possession. The unknown. She’s as corrupted as me, and I fucking love it.
I circle her core over and over, tantalizingly slow. Her breathing increases, and her eyes flutter closed.
The tip of her heel drags along the floor as her thighs clench together. My fingers work her closer to her orgasm as music thumps around us.
“Open your eyes,” I demand, squeezing my thumb and fingers on her neck.
She obeys, her lust-blown pupils filling her usually bright-blue orbs. Helpless. Desperate. The only two words to describe the upturned pinch of her brows.
It takes everything in me to not rip the mask off and bury my face in her pussy until I’m gasping for air. That’s one downfall of this disguise and this night. If we were at her house, I could tie her up and blindfold her. I could lift the mask and lose all control with her.
Instead, I’m losing control in a whole other way. This was supposed to be about teaching her a lesson. I wanted to bend her over the table and imprint every ridge and line of my hand on her bare ass while I edged her without release.
But instead, with the way she’s looking up at me right now, I can’t fathom doing anything other than making her come harder than she ever fucking has while she cries out for me.
Slipping my hand beneath the lace, I slide two fingers through her wetness. “Is this what you wanted when you were acting like a little brat? Egging me on. Teasing me. You wanted me to touch you, own you?”
She nods in my grip without muttering a word.
“Tell me.”
A beat of uncertainty passes before she wets her lips and murmurs, “Yes.”
“You like disobeying me, don’t you?” I plunge my fingers into her, pumping them in and out torturously slowly.
Her hand slithers over mine, gripping my forearm like a brace for support as I work her closer to the edge.
“Tell. Me.” Suddenly, I freeze in place, refusing to give her what she wants until she uses her words.
She whimpers in defeat, “Yeah, I like pushing your buttons.”
I press my lips against her ear. “Why?” I click my tongue before running the tip up the shell of her ear. “Wait, I know why. You like this side of me. You like when I’m controlling and mean.”
Her head rubs against my chest as she nods. “Yes.”
“Good.” Gently, I press my lips to her temple and pull my hand from between her legs. “Now bend over the table.”
Her fearful inhale steals the breath from my lungs. “W-what?”
I’ll never hurt her, not unless she wants me to. She’ll understand that soon enough.
Lifting my hand to her cheek, I brush the back of my fingers along her deep blush. “Do you trust me?”
Swallowing hard, she slowly nods. “I shouldn’t.” A pause. “But I do.”
Running both of my hands down the back of her arms, I drift them across her body, finding the small of her back and encouraging her forward. “Then be my good Little Cupid and bend over the table.”
Extending her arms out, she takes a step forward and bends at the waist, leaning over the table and placing her palms on the top. “Should I … have a safe word?”
Stepping back, I watch the skirt of her dress lift higher on her ass, nearly exposing the bottoms of her cheeks from how she’s stretched forward. My dick twitches in my joggers, throbbing against my boxers. Fucking hell, she is perfection.
Especially the innocent way she turns her head and glances back at me, those baby-blue eyes stroking up my body.
“Do you want one?” I ask before elaborating. “You don’t need a single word other than stop. The moment you say it, I halt. It’s that simple.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, a fire igniting in her stare. “I think I want one. For the fun of it.”
“Name it.”
“Freddie Krueger.”
“Why?” He laughs.
“That’s who I named Freddie after. I love the move.” I shrug, smiling.
“Alright. Freddie Krueger it is.”
I circle my finger in the air, silently telling her to turn back around, and remarkably, she does without protest.
My eyes drift down her body, devouring every inch, as I stride forward and trail my fingertips down the same path. “I was in a meeting earlier when you decided to be such a tease over text.”
“Oops.” Her sassy tone returns.
My hand strikes out, my palm colliding with her cheek. The slap sounds over the music.
She yelps, taken by surprise. I know it doesn’t ache too badly; it was hard enough to sting, but not to truly hurt.
“Watch it.” My voice is deep, full of warning.
I roll my shoulders back, the urge to fully lose control threatening to take over. Stepping to the side, I palm her ass and massage it roughly.
She retracts slightly away from me and onto the table. “What are you going to do?”
I don’t give her an answer. Instead, I smack her ass again, harder this time. She inhales sharply, and I study her body for a moment, waiting to see how she reacts.
The small of her back dips, and her hips rise. She likes being spanked—noted. I could spend hours doing this, but we don’t have that much time, not with her friend still locked in the bathroom.
Sliding my foot between her heels, I kick her right ankle out, forcing her legs apart again. “Remember what I said in the closet the first time we were together?”
“Memorized. Relived every second of it every day since. So, yes. Which part are you referring to exactly?” She chuckles breathlessly.
Reaching between her thighs, I slide a finger into her pussy with ease. “So greedy.” I add a second, pumping them in and out. “Let me just show you.”
I push my sweats and boxers down with my other hand, and my erection springs free, bobbing between us. Fisting my shaft, I pump it once. Twice.
When I ease the pace of my fingers, she pushes her hips back, desperate for more. She pouts, a whimper slipping from her as I remove my fingers completely.
I want to spend the rest of the night doing this, but I need to pick up the pace before Kerrigan finds a way out of her prison.
Pushing the red fabric up her back, I slap my tip across her center. “You like me in control. Telling you what to do.”