51. Chapter 51
Chapter fifty-one
The Wraith or Alex
Oh my dirty little Lina.
When I stepped out of that room to change, to pull on the armor and become The Wraith, in my mind I was risking everything.
Not this secret life of mine. Her.
I was terrified I would walk back through that door and watch something in her eyes change forever.
The Wraith has never been a comforting sight.
He’s the thing people whisper about when they think no one is listening. The shadow in the depth of the darkness. The monster that appears when bad men convince themselves they’re untouchable.
Fear follows The Wraith everywhere.
I’ve seen grown men break under the weight of a single look. I’ve watched confidence evaporate. Watched arrogance turn into trembling.
The Wraith isn’t supposed to inspire trust. He’s supposed to inspire terror.
So when I walked back into that room, I expected hesitation. Confusion. And especially fear.
Instead, Lina stared at me like I was the answer to a question she’d been asking herself for years.
The understanding nearly knocked me on my ass.
Because there wasn’t a trace of fear in her. Not one. She wasn’t seeing a monster or a vigilante—a thing capable of violence. She only saw Alex beneath a mask. And somehow that meant more to me than I can put into words.
For years I’ve separated the two halves of myself. Built walls between them. Locked doors. Created rules.
Alex gets to have a life—somewhat. The Wraith gets the darkness. The two aren’t supposed to mix.
But Lina has a habit of bulldozing through every boundary I build. She sees things I’m afraid to share. Understands things I don’t want understood. And somehow, impossibly, she keeps choosing me anyway. Every version of me.
The sense of being desired, despite all that has transpired, is immense. Because I don’t know if anyone has ever chosen all of me before.
Most people only get one version. The polished and professional version, or the dangerous and useful version. Lina gets everything.
And she still smiles at me, still reaches for me, still looks at me like I’m something more.
Right now, she looks hungry. Near ravenous.
I can see the wheels turning. Even through the gear, her touch reaches me, as if she’s a succubus drawing the energy from my body—want and need feeding her appetite.
She is absolutely turned on.
Not at all what I was expecting. Though in more ways than one, I should have expected it. She loves reading fiction. Books on desire. Dark romance. Erotica.
Part of me feels like a tool—something dressed up for her craving. But part of me…is also turned on. Part of me remembers a time when I briefly entertained the idea of wearing this getup for role play. A fleeting fantasy. Nothing more. It never lasted long.
Because when I put on this mask, I’m not Alex. I’m The Wraith. And The Wraith isn’t built for intimacy. He’s built for fear. For violence. For making predators regret their choices.
The thought of bringing that part of myself into a bedroom had always felt wrong.
I’ve never known how to separate what the mask represented.
The Wraith caused pain. And inflicting pain for pleasure had never been something I desired.
So I buried the idea almost as quickly as it appeared.
I convinced myself there was no version of reality where I could wear this mask and still be Alex beneath it.
No version where the man Lina wants could exist alongside the monster everyone else feared.
But standing here now, gazing down into her eyes, I realize I may have been wrong.
Through the lenses, I see her in a way no one else can. The display quietly tracks every detail—elevated pulse, accelerated breathing, subtle fluctuations in body temperature. Her heart rate is steadily climbing, beating hard enough that the numbers flash in the periphery of my vision.
She’s nervous.
Most people see The Wraith and freeze. Fear takes over. Their pulse spikes, their muscles tense, and every instinct screams at them to run.
Lina’s heart is racing too. But not for the same reason.
Her chest rises with a slow, uneven breath.
Her gaze drifts over the armor, the mask, the darkness I’ve spent years hiding behind.
There is apprehension there, sure. Curiosity too.
And something else. Something that makes my own pulse stumble.
Lina’s found a way to separate the mask from the man wearing it.
Standing here with Lina, the constant hunger for violence that follows The Wraith everywhere has gone quiet. The need to punish. To make someone pay for the damage they’ve done. It recedes into the background.
Now, The Wraith has a desire to provide…pleasure.
She was right. With her, I can shut the violent part of The Wraith off. I can be her Alex with and without the mask.
And right now, I want to fulfill both of our fantasies.
I grab Lina by the waist and pull her against me.
The lenses register the change.
Her pulse spikes.
HR Monitor: 112…113…114.
A faint indicator tracks the accelerated rhythm beneath her skin while her breathing pattern flashes near the edge of my display.
She inhales sharply. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. The movement is small, almost imperceptible, but the mask catches everything. Every elevated heartbeat. Every shallow breath. Every fraction of a second her gaze lingers on the black armor and the faceplate separating us.
The numbers continue to climb.
“Tell me what you want, Lina,” I ask her. I definitely don’t want to misinterpret this.
“I want you…right now,” she whispers, trailing her fingers up my gear.
“Mask on or off, Lina?” I ask.
“On,” she exclaims, as she searches my mask for an answer.
There it is. The confirmation I needed.
Fuck.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. The display instantly reacts. Heart rate elevated. Respiration accelerated.
Tiny indicators flicker at the edge of my sight, tracking every physiological response as I carry her toward the bed. The technology was designed for threat assessment. It was never meant for this.
I lower her carefully onto the mattress, unable to look away.
Through the lenses, I catch details I would have missed with the naked eye—the slight tremble in her fingers, the way her pulse flutters at the base of her throat, the rise and fall of each measured breath as she watches me.
I gently lay her on my bed, carefully removing her pants and then her panties.
She’s nervous. Excited. The readings are all over the place.
I remove one of my gloves. I want to touch her—feel how turned on she is.
I glide my hand down her stomach, lower now, to her very wet, glistening pussy.
I gently stroke and tease her clit.
She moans and writhes, grabbing hold of my forearm to help keep her steady.
“Alex…” she moans.
It is me. Right here. Right now. In this moment with her, pleasing my Lina.
I dip one finger in, feeling her warmth and tightness. Then two.
Damn, even just having my fingers inside her, I’m so fucking wrecked with need.
I begin fucking her with my fingers, driving her to the edge. Pleasuring my Lina is all I want to do.
Her back arches. My free hand, gloved, moves its way up to her breast under her shirt. I knead it, wanting so badly to take it in my mouth.
Lina’s hands cup over mine, pushing me to keep going as she nears her release.
Through the display, I watch her pulse race across the corner of my vision. Her breathing uneven. Her fingers curl into me as though I’m the sole stable object in the room.
“Cum for me, love.” Though my voice is deep and modulated, it’s not with menace. It’s a voice beckoning unbridled pleasure.
She bucks and moans, as I chase her need.
“That’s it…that’s a good girl.”
And that’s all it takes. Her pussy clenches around my fingers.
Lina pants and within moments—cries out. Trembling—holding onto my shoulders as her orgasm ripples through her.
The indicator displays her body temp rising to a peak and then rapidly falling right after.
I’m fucking hard as a rock.
I need inside this woman now.
I undo my belt buckle before sliding my hands beneath her thighs and lifting her onto me.
She wraps her legs around my waist as I turn us around and carefully set her bare ass on the dresser.
Fuck me. She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s spent.
I pull out my throbbing dick and stroke it with my free hand—positioning it within her slick folds.
Fuck! My dick aches. The amount of blood being pushed through it, anticipating release, is becoming excruciating.
I lift her thighs higher, positioning her for my entry.
“Please, Alex. I need you inside me,” she begs.
The monitor again captures her increased heart rate.
I can’t hold back any longer. I thrust into her and pause.
Fuck yes! She’s always so fucking tight.
We both moan from the pleasure—from how good it fucking feels.
I pull back and thrust into her again—pumping in and out—over and over again.
The monitor reads her body temp, and I watch as it climbs higher and higher.
God, I’ll never get enough of this. I’ll never get enough of Lina.
I embrace her tightly, driving myself deeper, needing her closer.
Lina whimpers and cries out, wrapping her arms around me.
The display highlights the subtle tremor in her breath as she pulls me close.
Her sounds satisfy every carnal need to claim her, making my dick throb and pulse, savoring her warmth.
“More, Alex. Oh God! Harder!” She screams.
Every last part of me that’s been holding back lets go.
I pull her off the dresser and lean her against the wall. I pump into her, faster and harder.
“Fuck! Lina.”
The voice is rich and resonant, steeped in dark desire, each syllable curling through the silence like smoke from an open flame.
“Oh God…yes!” She breathes.
I drive myself deeper, losing this battle of control.
Lina convulses as her orgasm ripples through her—trembling against me, the intensity of the moment stealing her breath as she clings to me, her forehead resting against my shoulder.
A heartbeat later, the last of my restraint gives way. My eyes shut, a shudder rolling through me as I hold her tight, letting the silence between us say everything words can’t.
For a considerable time, neither of us moves. The world beyond the room disappears, leaving only the steady rhythm of our breathing and the quiet certainty that neither of us wants to let go.
Holy fuck.
I keep her pinned against the wall for a few moments longer, my helmet lulls back as I fight to steady my breathing. The air inside the mask feels hotter now, every inhale shallow, every exhale trapped against the voice modulator.
Damn this thing.
More than anything, I want to kiss her. To embrace her soft supple lips instead of cold polymer. To brush my thumb across her cheek without the reminder of everything that separates Alex from The Wraith.
Instead, I settle for holding her a little tighter.
When my legs steady beneath me, I pull her up into my arms. She’s just as unsteady as I am, and I can’t suppress the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
I carry her to the bed and lower us onto the mattress with deliberate care.
For several long moments, neither of us says a word.
The room is filled only with the ragged cadence of our breathing, our hearts surrendering their frantic rhythm. She melts against my side, warm and impossibly real, and despite everything I’ve done tonight, despite the blood on my hands and the darkness I’ve embraced for years...
I’ve never wanted to take off the mask more than I do right now.
“You...” Her voice is barely above a whisper, broken by uneven breaths. “You just fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies.”
I can’t help but chuckle.
The sound catches her off guard, and a second later she’s laughing too, the room shedding the intensity that had consumed it moments before.
“Glad I could be of service.”
An hour later, we’re ready to go back to Lina’s place.
I catch her smiling at absolutely nothing while she ties her hair back.
When she notices me staring, she grins wider.
That grin alone is enough to make me reconsider leaving this room.
This is going to become a problem. We’re going to end up late everywhere we go.
Customers are going to wonder where one of the owners is. The bakery will probably suffer because neither of us can seem to keep our hands to ourselves.
Not that I’m complaining. If anything, I’m curious to see where this particular disaster leads.
The mask hanging in my closet suddenly feels less like a burden and more like a secret shared between us.
Something that should terrify her has actually brought us closer.
Life is strange like that.
But as I watch Lina gather her things, humming softly under her breath, one thought keeps returning. I was wrong.
I spent so long believing The Wraith would eventually cost me everything.
Instead, the woman I love stared straight into the darkness and found me standing behind it, and wants me, anyway.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not divided.
I’m not Alex pretending to be the Wraith. Or the Wraith pretending to be Alex.
I’m just me.