SWNOVELS Corrupt: Chapter 15
Present
THE HOUSE SCARED ME AT NIGHT. It always had.
A light wind blew outside and bare tree branches scraped against windows in various rooms as I crept downstairs, passing the ticking grandfather clock in the foyer.
Its sound echoed though the vast house and always reminded me that life went on while we slept. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…
Kind of a scary thought, actually. Creatures stirred outside, trees sat patiently in the forest, and danger could be lurking right outside the front door, mere feet away from our vulnerable spots in our warm beds.
And the Crist house held that same mystery. There were too many dark corners. Too many nooks to hide in and too many dark closets hidden in dormant rooms lurking behind closed doors.
The house was heavy with secrets and surprises, and it scared me, which was probably why I always found myself wandering around at night.
I enjoyed the fear of the silent darkness, but it was something else, too. You became aware of things under the shroud of night that you didn’t see in the light of day. The things people hide and how lax they become with their secrets when they think is everyone is asleep.
In the Crist house, the most interesting hours would often be after midnight. I’d learned to love the sound of the house being shut down and locked up. It was like a new world was about to unfold.
My bare feet didn’t make any sound as I walked into the dark kitchen and headed over to the pantry.
This was where I’d first found out that Mr. Crist was scared of Michael. It had been the middle of the night, and Michael had been sixteen. He’d come into the kitchen to get something to drink and hadn’t noticed me on the patio outside. I’d gotten up to watch the rain under an awning with a stash of fruit rollups Mrs. Crist had bought me. I remember it clearly, because it was my first night in the new bedroom she’d decorated just for me for when I slept over.
His father walked in to the kitchen, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it turned heated, and Mr. Crist slapped his son across the face.
I hated it, of course, but it wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before, unfortunately. Mr. Crist and Michael didn’t get along, and it wasn’t the first time Michael had been hit.
But this time was different. He didn’t take it quietly. He immediately lashed out and grabbed his father by the neck. I stared in horror as Mr. Crist struggled. Something had come over Michael, and I’d never seen him act like that before.
And as second after second passed, it was clear that Michael was too old for his father to push around, and now Mr. Crist knew it.
I watched as his father start to choke and cough.
Michael eventually let go, and his father stormed out of the kitchen. The incident lost Michael his car and his allowance, but I didn’t think Mr. Crist ever touched him again after that.
Opening the pantry door, I turned on the small light and walked down to the third column of shelves, finding the peanut butter.
Holding it to my chest, I gazed around, spotting the half-full bag of mini-marshmallows on the top shelf near the corner.
I smiled, walking over and arching up on my tiptoes, trying to pinch the bag between my fingers and grab it.
But then an arm reached out over me, snatching the bag, and I jerked my hand down, sucking in a quick breath.
“I thought you were tired,” Michael said, holding out the bag to me.
I swallowed to wet my dry mouth and turned, peering up at him. He was dressed in black lounge pants with no shirt, and his hair looked wet, probably from a shower.
I wanted to groan at the ache between my legs. God, he drove me crazy.
With everything that had happened tonight, I hadn’t had a chance to slow down enough for it to occur to me, but…
The last time I saw Michael was in the pool cave. I tensed my thighs, the little pulse in my clit suddenly beating harder at the memory and wanting a whole lot more of whatever he did to me in there.
Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned it.
After we’d arrived home from Sticks, we’d both gone our separate ways. I went to my room and hurriedly dialed the number for the satellite phone he’d finally given to me in the car ride home, unfortunately not getting an answer.
After calling a few more times with no luck, I decided to try again in the morning. She was fine. Damon had just scared me with the threat, which was probably all he was trying to do to begin with.
I then crawled into a hot bath and slipped into some pajama shorts and a white cami. But I was no longer tired. Since I hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning at my apartment, I went downstairs in search of food.
Brushing past Michael, I left the pantry and set the provisions down on the island, trying to get away from him.
No such luck.
He came to my side and stood next to me, grabbing the loaf of bread and taking out two slices for me and two for himself.
Guess he was hungry, too.
I let out a frustrated breath and spun around, sliding two plates out of the cabinet while he opened the refrigerator and dug in one of the drawers for something.
We didn’t speak as we busied ourselves making sandwiches. I dug into the marshmallow bag for a handful and poured them onto the peanut butter I’d already spread while he unscrewed a pickle jar. I stopped what I was doing, twisting up my lips as he laid slices across his peanut-butter sandwich.
Gross.
“That makes you so much less attractive,” I said, wincing.
He snorted, and I watched as he replaced the top slice of bread and picked up the sandwich, bringing it to his mouth.
“Don’t knock ‘til you try it.” And he took a huge bite, grabbing his plate and walking around me.
I shook my head, amused.
“Let’s watch a movie,” he said as he left the kitchen.
I popped my head up. A movie?
“And grab a couple of waters before you come,” he shouted from the hallway.
I cocked an eyebrow. The only time Michael and I had ever watched movies together was when Trevor was in the room, too. Otherwise I was too scared to invade Michael’s space.
I exhaled a sigh and turned around, taking two bottles of water out of the fridge. Grabbing the rest of my food, I left the kitchen, my arms full.
The media room was dark, lit only by the light of the seventy-inch flat screen hanging on the rock wall ahead of me.
As beautiful as the house was, it was this room I liked best.
There were no windows, as it was buried in the center of the house, and all the walls were made of stacked stone. It gave the room a cave-like feel, and it was usually the one Michael and his friends hung out in when he lived here.
In the center of the room sat a three-sided brown suede couch. Huge and comfortable, it had throw pillows and a large matching ottoman sitting in the empty space in the middle.
Michael carried his plate to the couch and tossed the remote down, sitting down with his back to me.
My blood started to heat, and my hand with the plate shook. It almost felt easy. Like just a relaxing night watching TV.
Too easy. I couldn’t relax around him. I knew better.
I walked into the room and rounded the couch, tossing his bottle of water on the seat next to him and taking the right side of the sofa, perpendicular to him.
I sat cross-legged, facing the television and eating while he surfed.
“That looks good,” I spoke up, seeing Alien vs. Predator.
“That looks good?” he mocked in my voice, and I turned my head toward him.
He was slouched back on the couch with his left arm tucked behind his head and his long, tight torso looking so smooth and beautiful. I once saw a girl straddle him as he sat like that, and I turned away, feeling the ever-present longing I wished would go away.
“You’ve already seen it, Rika,” he argued. “I saw you in here watching that movie back in high school. At least twice.”
Twenty-one times, actually.
I liked horror movies, but I also enjoyed sci-fi, so the Alien and Predator franchises were a big hit for me.
And then when they combined them and made Alien vs. Predator? Holy shit.
“Fine by me,” Michael allowed, clicking on the channel, the movie starting just as the team of archeologists had gotten to Antarctica.
The hair on my arms stood up, and my toes curled. I held the sandwich with both hands, taking small bites as I watched the screen. I could hear Michael biting into his sandwich and uncapping his water, and by the time the Alien queen had started laying eggs, I had spread out on my stomach, leaning up on my elbows as I held the sandwich and chewed.
My stomach tightened, hearing the alien queen’s heavy breathing. Her hissing echoed through the surround sound, and when the team of scientists entered the sacrificial chamber, unaware of all the alien eggs in the room that were about to hatch, I put down my sandwich and pushed it away. Grabbing a throw pillow, I crouched down behind it, peeking over the top.
And locking my ankles in the air, I winced as the eggs began to open.
Long legs crawled out of the opening, the music got faster, and the creature lurched, flying through the air toward a woman’s face.
I shot my head down, burying it in the pillow as the shot cut to a new scene.
I twisted my face to the side, laughing as I peeked over at him. “That part always freaks me out.”
But he wasn’t paying attention to the TV. His eyes were on my legs.
I immediately warmed. Had he been watching the movie at all?
He still sat back on the couch, relaxing, but his eyes were trained on my body, and I could only imagine what he was thinking.
And then, as if realizing I’d just spoken, he finally raised his eyes, meeting mine, and then shot his gaze back to the screen, ignoring me.
I slowly turned back, too, and even though I wondered if he was still looking at me, I made no move to sit up or grab a blanket.
Over the next hour I continued to hug my pillow as the Predators hunted the Aliens and slowly all of the archeologists became collateral damage. I felt Michael’s eyes on me from time to time, but I didn’t know if it was real or just my imagination.
But every time a Predator lurked in the dark or an alien crept out of a corner I could feel the heat of his stare, and I gripped the pillow tighter and tighter until, by the end of the movie, my fingers ached.
“You like to be scared, don’t you?” I heard his voice behind me. “That’s your kink.”
I twisted my head to the side, narrowing my eyes as the credits started to roll.
Like to be scared? I enjoyed scary movies, but it wasn’t kink.
He placed his palms on his thighs, leaning his head back and watching me. “Your toes curled every time the Aliens and Predators came on the screen.”
I dropped my eyes, lowering my legs and slowly sitting up.
All the movies that I enjoyed the most came to mind—the slasher flicks, like Halloween and Friday the 13th—and I noticed how tight my stomach muscles were. I took a deep breath, forcing them to relax.
Yeah, okay. I liked the way my heart pounded harder, and I loved the way my senses were sharper when I was scared. The way every simple tick-tock in the house became mysterious footsteps, or the way I was hyper-aware of empty space behind me as I sat on the couch, feeling like someone was lurking back there.
I enjoyed the fright of not knowing what was coming and from where.
“When we used to wear the masks,” Michael said, dropping his voice to a near whisper, “you liked it, didn’t you? It scared you, but it turned you on.”
I raised my hesitant eyes and tried not to let out a laugh. What was I supposed to say? That the fact that they’d looked like monsters got me hot?
I shook my head clear and stood up, saying in a quiet voice. “I’m going to bed.”
I grabbed my phone and took a step, but Michael’s voice stopped me.
“Come here,” he said softly.
I turned my head, narrowing my eyes. Come here?
He sat up, resting his forearms on his knees and waiting, while I shifted on my feet.
He was always playing games. I didn’t trust him.
But the temptation to engage was too great. He was right. I was getting good at it, and I kind of liked it, too.
I took slow steps, holding up my chin to steel myself.
When I reached him, he placed a hand on my hip and pulled me in between his legs. I gasped as he fell back against the sofa again, pulling me in with him. I shot my hands out, planting them on both sides of his head on the back of the couch, keeping myself upright as I leaned into him.
“Say it,” he breathed out, holding my hips with both hands now. “It turned you on.”
I closed my mouth and shook my head, looking down at him with a challenge.
“I know it did,” he maintained, a fire in his eyes. “Did you think I couldn’t see how tense your body would get or how your nipples got hard through your shirt when you saw me wearing it? You’re a little twisted. Admit it.”
I folded my lips between my teeth, turning my head away.
But then he tipped his chin up and caught my nipple between his teeth through my tank top, and I closed my eyes, letting out a small cry.
Oh, God!
The heat of his mouth swooped into my stomach as he released my nipple and then snatched it up again, dragging it out between his teeth.
“I’ve got the mask upstairs,” he taunted, kissing and nibbling on me through my shirt. “I can get it if you want me to.”
No. No, I wasn’t like that.
I pushed away from him, but he held me firm.
“Michael, let me go.”
But then I felt my phone vibrate in my hand, and I quickly glanced at the screen, seeing no name with the number. Reading the number, though, I noticed that it was his mother’s. That’s strange. I thought I had her number saved in my Contacts.
But I let it go, remembering that my mom was with her. I needed to take this call.
Planting my fists on Michael’s chest, I shoved him away. “Get off me. Your mom’s calling.”
All he did was laugh, though, and my face fell.
He grabbed my arm and threw me down onto my stomach and came down on my back, pinning me to the couch.
I breathed hard and fast, feeling his cock press against my ass as he snatched my phone out of my hand.
I stared wide-eyed as he placed it a few inches in front of me, his finger hovering over the green Answer button.
“Michael, no,” I rushed out, panic making my lungs ache.
But he swiped the screen anyway. The ringing stopped, and I heard silence as she waited for me to say something.
“Say hi,” he whispered in my ear.
I shook my head, too scared for her to hear my voice.
But then he put his hand over my mouth, forced his hand between me and the couch, and dived into my pajama shorts, sliding his fingers inside me. I let out a muffled scream.
Fuck!
I squirmed and tried to reach out my arms to hang up the phone, but he released the rest of his weight on me, pushing me down to where I could barely breathe.
“Shhh…” he cooed.
He brought his fingers out of my pussy and began rubbing them over my clit so slow and so soft I couldn’t help but shake.
I heard his mother give a hesitant “Hello?” on the other end, but I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Say hi,” he whispered again, but this time his voice was thick and wet like he was fucking me.
He removed his hand from my mouth, and I licked my lips, swallowing the dryness and trying to find my voice. My heart thundered in my ears, and I winced, holding back the groan I wanted to let out at what his fingers were doing to me.
“Hel… hello, Mrs. Crist,” I choked out.
Oh, God. The pleasure of his fingers rubbing me in circles slowly crept into my belly, pooling and building into something I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control for long.
“Rika!” she chirped, sounding happy. “I’m so sorry to call so late, but there’s a time difference here. I wanted to check in before I got under way today. How’s everything going there?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Michael fisted my hair and jerked my head to the side, diving into my neck with his teeth.
My scar! I stilled, waiting for him to feel it or see it and switch sides, but he didn’t. He nibbled and bit, sweeping the tip of his tongue up the nape of my neck, not leaving a single inch that hadn’t been touched by his mouth.
“Rika?” she prompted.
Oh, yeah. She’d asked a question. What had she asked? No, wait. I had a question. I’d been trying to get a hold of her. Wha—?
“Yes, um…” But I lost my train of thought as Michael slid two fingers back inside me, pumping in hard, steady thrusts.
“Are you scared?” Michael growled low in my ear. “I’ll bet you are, and I’ll bet you like it. I’ll even bet this is the best sex you’ve ever had, and my dick’s not even inside you yet.”
“Rika?” Mrs. Crist called again, this time more urgent.
But I gasped, the rush of heat on my skin as he devoured my neck again, sending waves through my body.
“Your pussy is so fucking wet.” He drew out his fingers, swirling their wetness around my clit in quick circles. “So soft and tight.”
I groaned, starting to grind into his hand.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, Mrs. Crist. Thank you for checking in. So far so good here.”
I heard Michael laugh in my ear, probably at how ridiculous I sounded.
“Oh, good, dear,” she replied. “Have you run into Michael at Delcour? I told him to keep an eye on you in case you needed anything.”
“Do you need anything?” he teased in a light voice, rubbing the thick, hard ridge of his cock into my ass. “Is that what your tight little pussy is begging for?”
“Yes,” I breathed out, my clit pulsing harder and harder and my stomach hot with lust.
And then my eyes rounded, realizing she’d heard that.
“Um, yes!” I burst out, trying to cover it up. “I’ve seen him a couple of times.”
“Good,” she responded. “Don’t let him push you around. I know he seems unpleasant, but he can be nice.”
His kisses and bites spread up my neck and over to my cheek, making me shiver. “I am being nice to you, right?” he whispered, dragging his teeth across my jaw. “Yeah, she’d cut my fucking hand off if she knew just how nice I was being right now.”
And with that he slid his fingers back in and pumped, rolling his hips into my ass, grinding his dick on me as his body weighted on my back.
Fuck! My thighs were on fire, and I gripped the sofa cushion, needing a release.
“No worries, Mrs. Crist,” I gritted out, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can handle him.”
“Can you?” he mocked in my ear.
But Mrs. Crist kept going. “Glad to hear it. Now study hard, and I’ll be coming back with lots of presents before Thanksgiving.”
I couldn’t take it. I rolled my hips again and again, riding the couch.
“You ready to come, you little brat?” Michael taunted. “Tell me how much you love it. Tell me my mask got you fucking wet.”
I turned my mouth to him, whispering desperately, “Please hang up the phone.”
He smirked, dropping his full lips to touch mine. “Don’t worry,” he breathed over my mouth. “She never notices anything. My father is faithful, Trevor is good, and I can be trusted. I’ll look out for my little brother’s girlfriend and keep her nice and safe in the light of day and not violate the fuck out of her in the dark.”
I should’ve been mad about the brother’s girlfriend remark, but I didn’t a shit right now.
And then he closed his eyes, groaning with the dry humping he was doing. “My mother never peels back the curtain, Rika.”
I let my forehead fall to the couch, feeling the orgasm build. Every hair on my body stood on end, and my heart was jackhammering in my chest as I breathed in and out, faster and faster.
“Say it,” he demanded.
But I shook my head, clenching my teeth to not cry out. Oh, God. I’m coming.
“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Crist,” I groaned. “Someone’s at the door. I have to go, okay?”
And I yanked my arm free, high on rage and energy as I hurriedly swiped the End Call button.
I threw my head back, whimpering, “Oh, God.” Grinding harder, I fucked his hand, needing to come so bad.
But then he pulled his fingers out of my panties, and I shot my head up, confused.
What the hell?
He flipped me over and then came back down on me again, pinning my hands above my head.
The throbbing between my legs ached, and the orgasm was right there. Shit!
“Michael, no!” I cried, squirming underneath him. “Oh, God, why did you stop?”
The weight of his body between my spread legs felt so good. I rolled my hips, chasing the orgasm.
“Don’t you fucking grind on me,” he growled. “You don’t get to come until you tell me the truth.”
“What truth?” I burst out. “You mean what you want to hear?”
Jesus! Did he ever stop?
“Being scared turns you on, doesn’t it?” he pressed.
No. Screw him. He needed to know he couldn’t push me around and do this to me anymore.
I clenched my teeth and scowled, shaking my head.
No, Michael. Your mask doesn’t scare me. It didn’t get me hot, and I hated it when you wore it.
His piercing eyes turned angry, and I saw his jaw flex. He pushed up off me and looked down with contempt.
“Go to bed,” he ordered.
And I fought to hide my smile as I peeled myself up off the couch. My body was tight and tense, and I was so fucking needy, I ached.
But I’d won. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted.
I stormed out of the media room and made my way down the hall, running up the stairs to the second floor. I wasn’t trying to get away from him, but I was fucking angry and pleased and turned on, and now I had energy to spare.
Slamming my bedroom door closed behind me, I crashed onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow. But the cool fabric of the fresh sheets did nothing to soothe my burning skin.
I was a wreck.
I needed him deep inside, to feel him and taste him and see him lose control over me for once.
I wanted him to use me and fuck me and go at me with a desperation he never showed for anything or anyone.
How did he manage to stop just then? He wasn’t a machine. I hadn’t mistaken what I’d seen in his eyes and the heat I’d felt from his mouth. He wanted me, didn’t he?
I let out a sigh, trying to get my breathing to even out.
Circling, circling, circling…He pulled, I pulled. He pushed, I pushed. We fought and played, toyed and challenged, but he never gave in. We never came together, fused, and seized what was there.
And I was so tired. There was something holding him back.
I stared at my alarm clock, wondering if I should even bother to set it. I had classes tomorrow, but I wouldn’t make it. I knew that. It was already after two in the morning, and I still hadn’t slept.
I gazed at the red numbers, wondering what I was going to do. Would he act like none of this had happened tomorrow?
But then I blinked, my brain going on alert. The numbers on the screen disappeared, the clock went dead, and I jerked my head up, pinching my eyebrows together.
What the…?
I turned around to see the small lights along the bottom of the bathroom walls—which were always kept on as a type of night-light—dark as well.
I pushed myself up, turning the knob on the bedside lamp, but that didn’t work, either.
“Shit.”
I twisted my head, looking out the window and seeing a light breeze. It wasn’t anything major, but the power could’ve gone out, I guessed.
Climbing off the bed, I walked to my door and opened it a crack. The hallway was nearly pitch black. I couldn’t see five feet in front of me.
My heart started to race, and I inched the door open all the way, peering out. “Michael?”
But the only sound I heard was the low howl of the wind outside. My toes curled into the carpet.
Stepping out of my room, I walked slowly, looking around and keeping my ears peeled as I made my way down the hallway.
“Michael?” I called again. “Where are you?”
I clenched my fists, the eerie darkness of the house vibrating off every inch of my skin. I felt like someone was behind me and I was being watched.
The grandfather clock chimed for the quarter hour, still working since it ran off a battery, and I stepped lightly down the stairs and into the foyer, twisting my head side to side and breathing hard.
But then someone grabbed my arm, and I sucked in a sharp breath. A large, dark form picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, holding me tight.
“No!” I cried out.
He slammed me into a wall next to a small table, the mirror above it shaking as I gripped his shoulders and he dug his fingers into my thighs.
I stared wide-eyed, coming face to face with a vicious red mask.
Michael.
The dark, violent gouges sent shivers down my spine, and his eyes stared out through the small holes like a chained monster. I stopped breathing.
Fear swirled in my gut, warming my insides and making every muscle clench. I tightened my thighs around his waist, feeling the slickness between my legs and my nipples chafe against my tank top.
Oh, God. He was right.
My eyes burned, and I wanted to cry. Goddammit, he was right.
I locked my ankles behind his back and held his shoulders as his hazel eyes stared at me. He wore jeans and a black hoodie, just like in the past.
I stared into his eyes and slowly slid my arms around his neck, the drumming in my chest charging every muscle in my body, making me strong.
“Yes,” I breathed out, bringing my lips close to his mask and taunting him. “Yes, it turns me on.”
And then I dived down, burying my lips in his neck and devouring him.
He let out a breath, digging his fingers into my thighs as I went at him, nibbling and biting. I caught his hot skin between my teeth, sucking on him and kissing, before reaching up and flicking his ear lobe with the tip of my tongue.
Moving down his neck, I left soft, urgent kisses and grazed his skin with my nose, smelling his body wash. Like spice and man, and I nudged my head in more, forcing his neck to arch back as I kissed his throat, trailing the tip of my tongue up to his jaw.
“Rika,” he warned in a hard voice.
But I didn’t care.
I could hear his heavy breathing through his mask, and for a moment, I thought he was going to stop me, but I sucked in a surprised breath he hoisted me up and slammed me into the wall again, holding me tighter.
“Fuck,” he gritted out.
His hand slid down between our bodies, and I let out a moan, flattening my back against the wall and giving him room as he unfastened his belt and jeans.
Hell yes.
Reaching down with one hand, I pulled my tank top over my head, throwing it to the floor.
I tightened my hold around his neck and pressed my naked breasts against this black sweatshirt.
He worked quickly, his greedy hand slipping under the lace of my pink panties and pulling them, ripping them clean off my body.
He then grabbed hold of his cock, taking it out of his jeans and positioning his hips just right.
“So you like the mask. You’re pretty fucking sick, aren’t you?” he teased.
I nodded, a smile peeking out. “Yes.”
He stroked my bare pussy with the head of his dick, dragging it up and down my slit.
“Just like me,” he whispered.
And then he thrusted his hips between my thighs, and I cried out as he slid his thick cock, inch by inch, inside of me, burying himself in my wet pussy.
“Oh, God,” I panted, arching my back. “You’re so hard.”
My skin was stretched, and it hurt a little, but it was too fucking good, too. His tip rubbed so deep up inside me I could feel him in my stomach.
I dug my heels into his back and pressed my body into his, holding him close as I started to ride his, meeting his thrusts again and again.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled low.
He thrusted, forcing my back up the wall again and again, and I hung on for dear life as he pounded and fucked.
I whimpered, fisting his sweatshirt in my hands. “Michael.”
He jerked me into him, going faster and harder, and the feel of him sliding in and out of me, finally taking me, was doing nothing to ease my need. I was hungrier.
I dived into his neck, breathing against his skin as I grazed my lips back and forth, whispering, “They all thought I was a good girl, Michael.” I dragged his lobe through my teeth. “But there’s so many bad things I want to do. Do dirty things to me.”
“Jesus,” he gasped, hooking an arm under my knee and yanking my ass into him, fucking harder as he let his head fall back.
“Yes!” I cried out, his cock hitting deeper and my thigh aching from where his hand gripped it.
Fire started to pool in my belly, and my orgasm crested.
“Michael,” I moaned, rolling my hips and riding his fucking cock as I grunted and panted. The house was filled with our breathing and groaning and the sound of his skin hitting mine.
Pleasure built between my legs, my muscles burned, and then I squeezed my eyes shut, letting him fuck me as my orgasm opened up and spread apart, bursting inside my womb and flooding my body and brain with heat and euphoria.
“Fuck!” I cried out. “Michael!”
My loud moans echoed in the great foyer, and my clit throbbed and my pussy tightened around him, trying to keep him there. He pounded into me, and I tightened my arms around his neck again, riding it out.
My head felt like it was drifting in a cloud, and I went limp, letting my forehead fall to his shoulder as the orgasm racked through my body.
“Such a beautiful little monster,” he whispered, his chest heaving.
He reached around, grabbing the chin of his mask and ripped it off, letting it fall to the floor. His thrusts slowed and his arms tightened around my body that had now become dead weight.
I blinked my exhausted eyes, looking up at him and seeing the hunger still in his.
He slowly let me down, letting my feet come back to the floor as he peeled off his sweatshirt and dropped it to the floor.
His hair was matted with sweat, and he ran his hand through it, making it stick up, looking sexy. His broad chest shined with a light layer of sweat, and I let my eyes fall, seeing his cock still hard and sticking straight up at me.
“You didn’t come,” I said quietly.
The corner of his lips curled, looking threatening. “We are far from done.”