Chapter 53 #2
Every inch of me was screaming yes and no all at once.
Another harsh flick of the barrel against my skull and all I could do was focus on trying to endure it, trying not to flinch at my own impending death in Mason’s hand.
There was something darkly addictive about the wrongness of knowing I’d asked for this, and still wasn’t sure if I could handle it now.
It made me dizzy, feverish heat scraping over my bare skin.
My legs were trembling and at this point, I didn’t know if it was from my own obscene pleasure or the brutal pressure of his weight keeping me still.
My clit throbbed, surging when he bottomed out.
“I’m gonna come,” he gritted, the barrel digging painfully into my temple. “You ready for that?”
The gun suddenly felt too heavy. Far too heavy.
Far too fucking real.
Panic and fear choked my breathing and I couldn’t ignore the fact that this could actually kill me—that it would kill me. Mason was about to shoot me in the head.
Desire knotted into terror, my body still caught in the heat but my mind shouting something else.
I couldn’t breathe. I envisioned his finger tightening on the trigger, the force of his grip increasing and increasing, all the inner mechanisms of the gun sliding into place, preparing to fire a bullet into my skull and end my life.
I don’t know if I want to do this.
Fucking reckless. Fucking stupid.
His muscles flexed, eyes locked on mine as his eyebrows drew together.
“Mason,” I choked. “Mason, stop.”
“No. You wanted this.”
He was so heavy on top of me, so inhumanly strong. I tried to shove him off, but my arms were trapped and weak; it was an unfair fight.
“Mason, please. I’m serious.” My voice sounded high-pitched and strange and absolutely terrified, all my uneven breaths cutting through the words.
I worked on angling my lower body, hoping to make him stop thrusting into me so he wouldn’t come right now, but there wasn’t any space for me to move. “Stop.”
“I’m not stopping, baby. This is your fantasy.”
“Mason!” I screamed, more and more tears pouring down my face, my whole body shaking so bad I couldn’t get a full breath in.
“I thought you liked being scared—fuck, I’m so close.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to die! Please just wait. You don’t have to stop, just take the gun away. Please.” I was sobbing, hating myself for getting into this situation.
“Be brave for me. You can do this. It’s so easy. It’ll be so fast, baby.”
I frowned, lower lip wobbling, eyebrows twitching, chest spasming. With anyone else, I might’ve held some buried assurance that the person wouldn’t actually kill me, but I didn’t have that at all with Mason.
“You won’t feel anything. It’ll be over soon. Now close your eyes.”
Mason’s dick started to swell inside me and I squeezed my eyes shut, all my muscles tensing, panic overwhelming every sense. This is it. The most intimate, dangerous act of my entire life. The very end of it.
Click.
The gun clattered across the floor.
He didn’t kill me.
My mouth popped open and I sucked in shaky breaths of precious air, over and over.
Mason was putting his arms around me, pulling me on top of him, kissing my head.
“You—”
“Never. Fucking never, Dakota.” He stared into my teary eyes.
I was nodding and nodding, my brain feeling like it’d blinked out of existence, my teeth starting to chatter.
I couldn’t find any words to respond to him.
Like I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that I was not actually dead, even though I’d truly believed with every drop of blood in my body that he was about to kill me.
“That’s about as real as I can make your fantasy.” He tucked my hair behind my ear.
My fucked-up fantasy. I knew I couldn’t hate him for it—didn’t hate him for it—because it was exactly what I’d asked for. He’d brought me as close to that line as possible without crossing it.
For that to work, I’d had to believe him.
My limbs felt heavy, rubbery, my mind totally detached from my body.
Sweat was cooling on my damp skin, working a numb chill through me.
I could still feel the ghost of the metal on my temple, cold and unyielding, could still feel the way Mason didn’t stop even when he knew he was going to break me.
It wasn’t lost on me—or my still-pulsing clit—that I hadn’t come once during the whole mess. I remained strangely, shamefully aroused. The darkest crevices of my brain felt perversely relieved to have touched that edge I’d dreamed about for so long, even if it had almost destroyed my mind.
I hated that I’d let it happen, but more than that, I hated how it still didn’t feel like enough. The fear I’d felt thinking I was about to die was gone…and I wanted it back.
I swallowed once, twice, but my mouth remained dry.
“There weren’t any bullets in the gun,” Mason informed me. It should’ve made me feel better.
“Can you—” I cleared my throat, my voice hoarse and quiet. “Can you show me your wings now? Or some of your power?”
“I just told you I’m never showing that to you. You think I lied?”
“Just once,” I pleaded, feeling like I’d just laid myself bare, refusing to believe that he was still going to reject me after this. It stung. “Just—just a little bit. Something. Show me who you are.”
He stared at me blankly. My heart was sinking in my chest with his refusal; a hollow, aching weight. The silence between us stretched out; too long, too thick, until I wanted to scream to fill it.
“Mason,” I said, a hot flush of humiliation creeping up my cheeks because I knew I was begging for scraps—like fucking always. “Please give me something.”
Instead of giving me his words, he slotted his lips on mine, gently angling my head while his hands roamed my waist. Somehow, it made me feel more alone than ever. We weren’t on even ground in this aftermath, because he wasn’t shaken like I was.
He didn’t need more the way I did.
“Mason,” I cried, trying to turn away. “Just—”
“Do you really think you could survive knowing?” he cut me off. “You barely survived tonight. You thought you wanted that, too.”
I curled in on myself, pulling away from him. Spine bending, arms crossed over my chest.
“Baby,” he murmured, uncrossing my arms, pulling me to him.
“Why won’t you let me in?” I questioned, voice breaking on a sob.
“Did Micah not tell you I’m Thrausian?”
“He did, but—”
“There’s no but to that, Dakota. This is the worst part of me, and I’m not exposing it to you.” He said it so firmly, as if this was a truly impossible ask.
“But I want you to.” I pressed my cheek to his bare chest, listening to his heart beating strong and steady. “You made me think you were going to kill me.” The words sounded too small, too dumb.
“I would never kill you. Please let this go.”
I wanted to cry harder, beg him more, but I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere with it.
I hate you for how much you’ve made me need you.