Chapter 25 #2
I couldn’t hide like this. I was beginning to sweat.
He bent forward, palms braced on my inner thighs as he brought his mouth to my stomach, making me jolt.
He licked a hot, fast line up over my breast, closing his mouth around my nipple and sucking, flicking his tongue across the tip.
I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan falling across my parted lips.
“Was it better before you knew I’d let you come up for air?” Mason asked, dragging his mouth up my neck to speak in my ear, his throat thick with lust. His thumb skimmed over my clit and I shivered.
Fuck.
My belly coiled with unease, with fear, with destructive lust.
“When you thought I might actually kill you?”
Yes.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
He swirled the pad of his thumb through my slickness, bringing it up over my clit again, barely touching me. His other hand covered my breast, finger rubbing over my hard nipple.
“It was better like that, wasn’t it?”
The darkness in his voice stoked the dangerous fire burning so bright inside of me, his illicit promises working me up, his too-light touch on my clit winding me tighter and tighter, until I was bound so taut I was ready to beg him to just touch me. To fuck me. He was so fucking awful.
My eyes rolled back and I was shaking my head, pulse running wild as adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream.
We were too similar. He knew what it was like to want terrible things, too.
He cupped my breast, toying with my nipple, squeezing me, the other gripping the base of his cock.
He angled himself towards me, rubbing the head of his dick over my throbbing clit, just like he’d done that day in the ocean.
His stare was fixated on the sight of it, him smearing my own wetness all over me.
His expression was one of absolute obsession.
I clenched his comforter in my fists at my sides, breathing hard and heavy, watching him crudely slap his erection on my pussy.
As if he could sense my desperation, my pathetic need, he looked up at my face.
Our eyes locked together, and I felt it. The something worse.
He’d told me, in the diner, that he didn’t want to be friends with me. In my head, I’d wondered what he wanted to be. Something worse? Here now, with him unraveling every thought in my head, owning every molecule of my body, pulling me below the surface and holding me there…this was it.
And it felt so good. It felt like everything.
Mason pushed his cock against my entrance, starting to stretch me.
“You’ve thought about worse than drowning, haven’t you?”
The words stole the last of my breath.
As he shoved his cock further into me, all I could think was I’m so fucked.
I didn’t answer him because I couldn’t; I couldn’t tell him that, couldn’t let him know the ways I’d imagined him over me like this. With his gun in his hand and aimed at my skull, his cock buried deep inside me…
He kept pressing in and he was so big, and stretching me so much, and I felt so full, and it was so good—
“Shit, Dakota,” Mason grunted, moving slow and deep, getting me adjusted to his size.
I tightened around his length, my belly quivering as my orgasm started simmering inside of me. Everything was so sensitive between my legs, aroused and swollen and slick, Mason’s hips grinding into mine when he bottomed out.
His thrusts got harder, faster, need burning hot in my body.
Mason slid his hands up my stomach, pausing to grab my breasts, before wrapping them around my throat. He wasn’t squeezing hard, but he could. He could overpower me, hurt me, make me pass out again. I whimpered, my release continuing to build in my veins.
He used his grip on my neck to increase his pace, holding me down while he pounded into my pussy.
My insides trembled, clenched, squeezing his thick cock while he squeezed my throat.
I almost couldn’t breathe now, with the way his palm pressed into my windpipe, and I clawed at his hands, mouth popping open.
“Mason—” I choked out.
“Shhh,” he whispered, pressing his thumbs over my lips, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re scared of me.”
But he loosened his grip, moving one hand down to lightly tug on my stiff nipple. I arched into him, breathless, wishing he’d do it rougher. Mason shifted his position again, now rubbing my clit with his thumb while he continued fucking me, his other hand still a collar on my neck.
The angle was perfect and my head was dizzy from the lack of blood flow to my brain and he was pinching my nipple harder now, almost walking the line of pain. He always knew what I needed.
I was racing towards the edge after a mere few seconds.
“If I really was going to kill you, how would you want me to do it?” he growled.
Images flashed in my mind, a moving picture of violence.
I was so overwhelmed by the sensation of his thumb rubbing my swollen clit again, his cock hitting me so deep, his hand on my throat, my own brain conjuring up imaginations of my darkest fantasies, that I couldn’t control my orgasm as it crested.
The feeling ripped through me like lightning and my hips arched off the bed, pussy tightening around him.
Mason fucked me through it, flipping me on my stomach with my ass in the air before I could comprehend what was happening. He guided his dick back to my soaked cunt and pushed inside in a single thrust, fucking me harder than before.
It was almost too much, the feeling of him in my guts while the aftershocks of my orgasm still sparked through me.
I grabbed his black sheets in my fists, panting against the fabric, heat burning low and intense in my belly. Mason grabbed my hips harder, deepening the arch in my spine, making me moan louder. Sweat was slick on my skin and my hair was sticking to my cheek.
“I know you’re on birth control.”
“Mason,” I choked out, panic flaring in my mind. “Don’t.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
My eyebrows slanted together, my pussy clenching around him at the harshness of his response. We’re both so sick in the head. Him for saying it, me for liking it. I hated that I loved when he took away all my choices. I hated that I was so eager for him to come inside me.
How many more boundaries was he going to ignore? Would he ever let me tell him no, and actually listen to me?
I watched him over my shoulder, hypnotized by the stretch of his muscles, his gorgeous face. He thrust in deep, jaw flexed, neck straining. I gasped at the feeling of his cum flooding my insides, the warmth and wetness of him spilling into my pussy.
“One day, Dakota,” he began, tone ominous, his dick still inside me. “One day, you’ll tell me about that fantasy. And I’ll be ready for it whenever you do.”