Chapter Eighteen
Maya
No, no, no. I push the masked man off me and scramble away from him. My breathing turns shallow as I make myself as small as possible. Not here. Not with him. This can’t be happening.
“Maya, stop. It’s okay,” he says firmly, placing his warm palms on the outside of my arms, kneeling in front of him on the bed.
“It’s not okay!” I shout, trying to push him away. I can’t lose control here. I can’t let him see what I am. It feels like I’m sinking into quicksand as I try to ground myself, try to grasp at a semblance of control. “I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t mean to.”
“So your claws slipped out; it’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t have claws!” I yell, and my voice comes out strangled as fear grips me.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
This is why I never let anyone get close before.
I’m such an idiot for thinking I was in control.
For thinking I could have this. For believing I could have someone and not be a danger to them.
“It’s okay,” he soothes, pinching my jaw between his thumb and index finger.
I shake my head, telling him it’s not okay. I hurt him. And he has no idea how much worse it could have been, no idea what I am. No idea that I’m a monster.
But then he holds me firmly, ceasing my headshaking. He’s strong. Really strong.
“Are you in charge here, Kitten?” The stern tone in his voice allows no argument and sends a thrill of authority through me. It interrupts my spiral in its tracks and pulls me back to the present.
“No, Sir. I’m not in charge,” I respond when I find my voice again.
“If I say something is okay, that means it is. Do you understand?”
“Ye… yes, Sir.”
“Is it acceptable for you to shout at your alpha?”
“No, Sir,” I reply as my skin starts to tingle with anticipation.
Normally, a man referring to himself as an alpha would have me rolling my eyes, but there’s something about this man that takes dominance to a new level.
Something about him embodies that word. Is he going to punish me? And if so, how?
His hold on my chin relaxes and his hand slides down my throat. A smile ghosts his lips before he speaks again. “What’s left on our itinerary for tonight?”
My breath hitches when the memory hits me—my masked dominant saying he would take my ass.
“Don’t make me ask again, Kitten. You’re already in trouble,” he says as he pulls back. His cock stands proud, hard as steel and still wet with our combined releases.
"You were going to fuck my ass," I whisper. I’ve come more times tonight than I have in my life, but with this man around, it will never be enough. He’s every sexual fantasy I’ve ever had come to life, and apparently, he needs no refractory period if he’s already able to go again.
Which may just be the hottest thing in the world.
He steps away and grabs my bag, rummaging until he finds a butt plug and lube.
I watch him with awe; his tanned body looks like it was carved from stone.
Like some sort of Greek god. So perfect, it’s hard to believe he’s real.
I wonder what his reason is for keeping his identity hidden.
What drew him to Sanctum Obscura. Why does he hide so much of his face, and will it match the rest of him when I see it? If I see it.
“That’s right,” he says, evaluating the toy for a moment before setting it aside. “And I know it’s important that I stick to the plan. You need to know what’s going to happen, isn’t that right?”
A whimper escapes my lips as he squirts a liberal amount of lubricant in his hand and spreads it over his hard cock. “I’m still going to fuck your ass,” he continues, “but you don’t have permission to come. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you,” I reply as relief washes over me. It’s only been a couple of hours since I met him, but the idea of him withdrawing from me already stings. He climbs onto the bed and positions himself back between my thighs again.
“Don’t you want to take me from behind?” I ask, my brows scrunching in confusion at our position.
“No, I want to watch your face as I fill your ass. I want to see the pain morph into pleasure, and then I want to see your frustration building as the need to come grows unbearable. You won’t come, though.
And the next time you think you know better than your Dom, you’ll think again.
Perhaps you will remember this is what you get when you make accusations about what is or is not okay for me. ”
With that, he pushes a finger into my tight hole, pumping in and out, before adding a second lubricated finger.
I groan with the delicious sensation of him stretching and prepping me, and then he lines his cock up with my asshole and thrusts in.
I squirm when he breaches the tight ring of muscles at my entrance, squeezing my eyes shut as the intrusion burns and fills me.
He pushes in, further than any toy I have ever played with, and by the time he stills, I’m sweating and crying.
“It’s too big,” I gasp. “Too much.”
“You can take it,” he says harshly, his voice bordering on a growl that liquefies my insides. “You were made for me. Made to take my fucking cock.”
But despite the sharp tone, he stills, allowing me to accommodate to the intrusion. I force myself to relax and breathe. Force myself to surrender to this man whose name I don’t even know. Because, for some reason I can’t even begin to comprehend, he evokes a feeling of safety and belonging.
When I’m finally able to open my eyes, the intensity of his gaze—even interrupted by his mask—takes my breath away.
Slowly, so slowly, he begins to move his cock, only withdrawing an inch or so before pushing back in.
And all the while, he stares into my eyes.
I can barely see his with the design of his mask, but I feel them.
The golden hue of his irises glow through the mesh, appearing unnatural and mesmerizing at the same time.
The pain melts into pleasure, and my erratic breathing builds along with the intensity of his movements.
“I’m so full,” I groan.
“Fucking take it,” he grits out as his thrusts become rougher, harder, desperate. He ruts into me like an animal during mating season, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into me.
I cry out, wanting to beg him to let me come as my core clenches and my clit throbs. But I don’t. This is my punishment, and I will take every second of it. I hurt him. I deserve to suffer for that.
“I’m going to fuck this tight little hole every time you try to take over. Understand?”
“Ye… yes, Sir,” I moan as his pace becomes merciless and pain begins to build once more. “Th… thank you, Sir.”
With a final deep push, he growls, and I feel the throbbing release of his cum emptying into my ass. He lowers my legs slowly, gently, and pulls out of me.
“Did you learn your lesson?” he asks, his tone harsh and unforgiving.
“Yes, Sir.”
He climbs out from between my legs and rolls me over onto my front. I watch him over my shoulder as he grabs the plug he left out earlier. “Spread your cheeks.”
My face heats, but I follow his order, placing a hand on each butt cheek and pulling them apart. He pushes the plug inside me, and its coolness soothes the raw heat from being so thoroughly fucked.
He rubs my cheeks and caresses my back before leaning in to whisper in my ear, “You’re going to keep my cum plugged in your ass until tomorrow morning so you don’t forget that I own you. You are mine, and I’m never letting you go.”
A thrill runs through me at the idea of belonging to this man for more than a night.
He climbs off the bed and washes his hands and cock in the sink in the corner of the room.
Then he grabs wipes, which he uses to clean our bodies of remaining fluids before pulling his boxers back on.
He searches through the room until he finds a blanket to wrap around me before dragging me onto his lap and cradling me against his chest.
“You did so well, Kitten,” he says softly, his lips brushing against my hair. “You were more than I could have ever hoped for.”
He drops gentle kisses on the top of my head and squeezes me close, warming me from the inside as much as the outside. Tears well in my eyes at how… right it all feels.
“Hey, hey, what are these tears for?” he asks, his gruff voice taking on a worried tone for the first time. “Did I go too far?”
“No, not at all,” I say on a watery exhale. “It was perfect. I just can’t believe how safe I feel with you. How… I don’t even know how to put it into words.”
His hand cups my face, and he tilts my head to look at him.
“You were perfect. You were made for me. Every beautiful inch of your stunning body, the heart that I know you have, your intellect, your confidence. And your insecurities too. I am going to spend the rest of my life showing you there is no need to worry about anything.”
I gasp at the casual way he claims me as his.
As something so much more than someone he fucked in a sex club one time.
That voice inside me, the one I’m always so at odds with, tells me it’s because he is mine.
Because we are meant to be together. I’m so afraid to let myself believe it, though.
Believe that this sense of belonging isn’t a one-off.
“We just met,” I remind him, although I’m not sure why. I want nothing more than his promises to come to life, but it couldn’t be that easy, could it? “I don’t even know your name.”
“You will. When you’re ready to hear it.”
My brows scrunch, and my mouth drops open. How can I trust him so freely when he isn’t even willing to share the most basic information about himself? Doubt swirls and curdles in my gut.
“You said my name earlier,” I say as the memory crashes in. He said my name when he soothed my nerves. “How did you know it?”
“I know a lot of things,” he replies, caressing his thumb along the side of my face. “You’ll understand soon.”