Chapter 23 Eva #2
“Fuck you?” He barks a laugh that’s more rage than humor. “You saved yourself to be fucked here? Like a whore in some dark room.”
I swallow his words, along with his taste in my mouth, trying to find the confidence in my voice.
“Yes,” I murmur. “I want you. Not later, when it’s safe. Now, in the heat of it, when you are burning for me.”
Something raw flickers on his face, a glimpse of the thing he tries to cage.
“Beg.” He shoves me onto the desk, sending stationery and letters flying off on both sides.
“Pl-please.” I steady myself on my elbows.
“Say you’re mine.” His large hand cups my jaw.
I nod. His eyes harden.
“Use your words,” he hisses, his grip tightening on my face.
I swallow, loudly, heart pounding against my ribs.
“I’m yours,” I whisper.
In a flash, he rips his suit jacket off, then undoes his belt and trousers, and draws his large cock. I suck in a sharp breath. For a moment, I hesitate. I forgot how huge he is. How will I take him?
But before I can blink, Mason bundles up my dress, parts my legs, and rips off my panties. And then his hard erection is pressed between my legs. I grip his shoulders, breathing hard, lungs stuttering for air as he circles his crown against my opening.
“Fuck,” he grunts when he finds me soaked. “Tell me it’s me you are wet for. Not that fucking prick.”
Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.
I nod. And he thrusts inside me, in one go.
A cry rips from my throat. The sound muffles by the hard muscles on his chest pressed into my mouth. My whole frame shakes around his enormous cock. It feels like he’s shoved his fist inside me. He strokes my waist, pulling my head back, the movement sending a tear rolling down my cheek.
“Bleed for your king, princess,” he growls as my hymen breaks around his crown, and with it, every ounce of my resistance.
He pulls back, looking down where our bodies are joined, his face twisting at the sight of my blood smeared on his cock.
“Fuck,” he groans with a want that feels like it could devour me whole. He’s never looked more feral, more primal. “I knew you would feel this good.” He starts thrusting harder.
Every movement sends a fresh shock of pain through my core. I have never felt so full before. It fucking hurts. It hurts so much, screams tear from my throat, irrepressible. I bring a finger to my lips, wedging it between my teeth, but he yanks it out.
“Mason, please,” I beg. I don’t want to scream.
He pins my hand to the desk, beside my face, then pushes his own hand into my mouth.
I bite down on the bittersweet mixture of pain and pleasure, stifling my cries against the back of his hand, as he grabs the valley of my neckline and drills his cock into me.
Inching in with every thrust, he tears through my walls—breaking me, stretching me, filling me beyond my capacity—until I take him in, to the hilt, and his balls slap against my arse.
“Ma-son,” I whimper against his skin, tears streaming down the sides of my face.
“Isn’t this what you begged for, princess? To be fucked.” he thrusts in, hard. “To be claimed,” he thrusts harder. “To be owned,” he pulls out to the tip and rams all the way in, making my teeth dig into his hand. “So now you’ll take my cock. Every fucking inch of it.”
A predatory growl rips from him as he starts fucking me with all his might, while I lie sprawled across the wooden plank like defeated prey, drowning in pain and pleasure in equal amounts.
My monster is not watching me pressed against the glass anymore.
It’s out, howling in delight, ravaging me piece by piece.
I was a walking fortress. He shouldn’t have been able to touch me. Yet here he is, breaking me down like a battering ram no one can stop.
Mason fucks me like a king determined to claim his territory—utterly, thoroughly, completely. Until he’s taken every single piece of me and I have nothing left to give.
And I want it. Him. Even when it hurts like hell, even when it feels like I might pass out, I want him—every dark part of him. As hard as that is to admit to myself.
“You were made for me, princess,” he groans, his claiming hands wandering over my torso. “Feel your cunt strangling around my cock, begging to weep for me.”
He pauses for a moment, letting me feel myself clench around him, then looms over me, pulling the top of my dress down and twisting my nipple between his teeth, all the while hitting that sweet spot with his huge dick.
My core ignites. I grab the edge of the desk that creaks beneath us as he fucks me faster.
Every thrust burns. And yet, against the pain rippling in my core, he brings me to my peak.
My toes curl as heat courses through my body and white stars dance behind my eyelids.
“Come little dove,” he whispers against my neck, then wraps his lips around my soft skin and sucks hard. Like every other time, my body obeys him without hesitation.
“Fuck,” I croak. My back arches as the wave hits me, and I fall apart around him, moaning his name.
“Good girl,” he coos, then rises, pulling me up with him, and hugging me to his chest. He tucks my head in the crook of his neck and holds it there while he fucks me.
Will he ever stop? Tears stream down my face, and a streak of my saliva escapes my lips, trailing down his shirt before I can stop it.
“God, Mason, please.” I fist the cotton and lift my face to meet his eyes. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“But you are doing so well, little dove,” he grunts. “Look how well you are taking my cock.”
He tilts my face down, by his grip on my jaw, and makes me watch his blood-strained cock driving in and out of me. The sight makes me delirious. I moan and hide my face in his chest.
“I don’t know if I can stop, little dove,” he grunts, showing signs of restraint. Yet, he starts fucking me harder. The next thrust shoots through my core.
“Mason,” I cry into his neck, my tears drenching his clothes.
“Fuckkkk,” he grunts and floods inside me, his warmth filling me in.
For a moment, we breathe into each other. I hang from his shoulders while he rubs my waist. Then he lifts my face and crushes his lips to mine, devouring me, fucking my mouth with his tongue. A man after my very soul. When I’m starving for air, his lips pluck away from mine.
“You’ll be the death of me, Etheridge.” He lets out a dark chuckle.
“You’re one to talk, Grant.”
Mason grabs some tissues from the desk and cleans his cum, mixed with my blood, off my thighs. His eyes flick to me when I wince.
“That bad?”
“Like you care.” I shrug.
“You’re the one who was begging to be fucked.” He smiles.
“Is that how you fuck others, too?”
“Not even close.” He grins and pulls me closer. “But they don’t drive me fucking insane. I have never fucked without a condom, either.”
“And you didn’t care to ask if I was on birth control?”
“You wouldn’t have begged me if you weren’t.”
I roll my eyes and glance down at his bloodstained hand. “You’ve got to treat that before we go out.”
He dabs his wound with a tissue, then picks something off the floor and ties it around his hand.
“Is that…?” I gasp.
“Your panties?” He smirks. “Don’t worry, no one will know what it is. And I’m not leaving anything of yours around for some creep to find.”
I flush and push against his chest. “I have to get back.”
“That you do, little dove.” He fetches my shoes and slides them on my feet.
I reach for my broken necklace, but before I can hop off, his arms slide under my knees. I gasp when he picks me up, bridal style. My arms grab his shoulder and neck for balance.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you back.”
“What? No-no. I meant, go back to my family. Put me down. We had a deal.”
“You never said I couldn’t take you after I fucked you.” He grins. “You should be more careful with your words when you make deals, princess.”
I glare at him, my nails digging into his neck. “Put. Me. Down,” I grit out.
For once, he listens. He places me on my feet, softly, but his arm stays around my waist in a death grip as he opens the door.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass pane of one of the paintings on the wall.
Running a hand through my disheveled hair, I take the pins out and let them fall over the angry marks along my neck and my torn neckline, stained with Mason’s blood.
Even then, my flushed face and lips stand out.
But there is nothing I can do about that until I find a washroom.
Mason grins at my state, proud of his work.
I peek left and right, looking for guards, or worse, before I take one step forward and trip, wincing. Damn it. Mason catches my waist, eyeing me suspiciously.
“It’s these stupid heels,” I lie. I can’t tell him I’m sore, or crazy will pick me up and carry me out.
“Then, why do you wear them?” he asks with a hand on the small of my back as he walks me to the main hall, one slow step at a time. Still, I’m so sore, each movement feels like a graze.
“Because I’m surrounded by giants,” I deflect and come to a stop at the edge of the busy corridor.
“If you are not in my arms by this time tomorrow, I’m coming back for you,” he warns, voice deep enough to slice metal.
“I believe you.” I smile and start to step away.
But he grabs me again and locks onto my lips. Cued to his touch, I lean in for one more, moving against him in soft strokes, while my brain screams at me to break away.
Then, all of a sudden, his mouth rips from mine, and I am wrenched out of Mason’s arms.
Thud!
A deafening sound of bone crunching pierces my ears.
“Dan!” I yell. My eyes flash from my brother, who stands between us with his fist braced, and Mason, who wipes a streak of red from the corner of his mouth with his injured hand wrapped in my underwear, to my great horror.
I plead with Mason wordlessly when his fingers twitch toward Dan.
At the other end of the hallway, Hugo and Kane appear. They don’t intervene. Casually lingering, they keep their distance, while the two guards behind Dan harden their stance.
Great, that’s what I need right now. More testosterone. Dan doesn’t miss it, either; his eyes flash straight to Kane Berkeley, who he called by another name earlier tonight.
What was that about?
That name was on Dan’s suspiciously hidden list. The idea of my brother being involved with the Grim Reaper terrifies me, but not as much as my brother face-to-face with Mason.
“Stay the fuck away from my sister, Grant,” Dan bellows.
Mason takes a step closer. The guards close in, too, and so do Kane and Hugo.
“Or?” Mason smirks and raises an eyebrow. “You are new to this, so a piece of advice. A threat is best served with a mention of consequences.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dan snorts, his face softening with fake politeness. “As long as we are trading advice. Here’s one for you: Don’t mistake my sister’s fascination with disasters for loyalty. When it’s time to choose, she won’t blink. You don’t stand a fucking chance.”
My heart hammers as I stare between Dan and Mason.
A long moment of silence draws out, weighing heavier and heavier in my chest with each passing second.
Then Mason’s lips curl up. “Then I guess she won’t get a fucking choice.”