Текст книги "Lights out"

Автор книги: Navessa Allen

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

Chapter 24Josh

To quote one of my favorite TV shows, “Everything hurt, and I was dying.”

Okay, so maybe not literally, but it felt pretty close. My shins throbbed. A deep, pulsing ache radiated from my right shoulder to my elbow. Despite the way I’d sidestepped Aly’s questions, I’d definitely hit my ribs.

I probably wasn’t in any position to teach my girlfriend a lesson about breaking her word to me, but was I about to tell her that? Hell no. The way she kept jumping every time I moved too quickly, like she expected me to pounce any second, was far too satisfying.

I reached for her front door handle a little faster than was necessary, and she flinched so hard that she almost fell sideways into a planter. Oh, this was too good. So good that I was starting to think it was better to delay the punishment I had planned and focus on mental warfare.

“You doing okay, babe?” I asked, fighting the urge to grin. “You seem kind of jumpy.”

She sent me a disgruntled look that had no business being so adorable. “I’m just impatient to get inside.”

Right. As much fun as it was to torment her, we couldn’t linger out here. Our clothes were still damp, and we needed to get out of them and check ourselves over for any injuries that might require treatment.

I slipped my key into the lock and opened the door for Aly, indicating she should go first. She passed me sideways, eyes narrowed and body tense like she was bracing for an attack. The urge to lunge was strong, but I held it in check. We’d been through hell tonight, and the last thing she needed was another rush of adrenaline when her flight or fight response kicked in.

A high-pitched yowl hit my ears as I closed the door behind us. Fred came skittering out of Aly’s bedroom with his tail held high and mouth wide open as he announced how pissed he was that we’d left him alone. Maybe it was time to start thinking about getting him a little brother or sister, someone to keep him company while Aly and I were working or having Mommy-Daddy time.

Before meeting Aly, I’d never let myself think about what having my own family might be like – I’d been too afraid of passing on my genes to contemplate it – but it felt like I was already forming one with this woman. Now that I trusted myself around small things, I couldn’t get the idea of a fluffy little kitten out of my head. It seemed like the next logical step, and I could already see it now: the four of us snuggled together on the couch, Aly sipping wine, and me rubbing her feet while we talked about our days, the cats curled between us.

Ahead of me, Aly leaned down and scooped Fred up. “We weren’t even gone that long.”

Fred headbutted her in the chin hard enough that I heard a low thunk from the impact.

I let them have their moment of reunion while I shucked off my jacket and unlaced my boots. By the time I reached them, Fred was purring loud enough to wake the dead, eyes closed in bliss while he made biscuits in Aly’s shoulder.

I ruffled the fur between his ears, grinning when he rewarded me with a little chirrup of welcome. “He’s probably just clingy after all the upheaval of the past few days.”

Aly hugged him closer. “Poor baby.”

“I’ll go start the shower,” I said, leaning in to kiss her temple. “We need to get cleaned up and warm.”

She turned to me, pupils dilating, cheeks flushing, and I knew she was thinking about the last time we’d been in a shower together.

I nearly groaned. More than anything, I wanted to be inside her again. I’d spent half the night terrified we were about to get caught and I’d have to watch my girlfriend get put into handcuffs. I needed the reassurance that she was safe, that she was okay, and nothing could give me that like having her wrapped in my arms, moaning my name.

“Don’t take too long,” I said before striding away from her.

I put my phone on the bathroom counter before starting the shower. I’d turned the device’s volume as high as it went because I was paranoid after Brad’s break-in and wanted to hear if any of the freshly tuned alarms I’d set for the doors went off. I didn’t love that Aly’s family had the keys to her place. They seemed as bad with boundaries as I was, and I didn’t trust their intentions. Maybe I could convince Aly to change the locks if she wasn’t already set on doing it. From the wary looks she’d given Junior on the ride back to the warehouse, she trusted him even less than I did.

I left the door cracked as I pulled off my damp clothes and set them on the tile floor. A glance in the mirror stopped me in my tracks. Deep purple was starting to bloom along my right side. I knew enough about first aid to realize it wasn’t a great sign, so I dragged in a deep breath to see how bad it was. My ribs pinched with discomfort, but the pain wasn’t as intense as the time Dad kicked me in the side with his steel-toe boots, so I didn’t think any were cracked.

I lifted my gaze and nearly flinched. I’d been so obsessed with Aly recently that I’d skipped my last haircut, and between how long it had gotten and the dark circles beneath my eyes from exhaustion, the resemblance to the monster who fathered me was uncanny.

Unable to look at myself any longer, I jerked my gaze away and got into the shower.

Fuck, what a night. I had no idea how I’d kept it cool inside Brad’s place for as long as I had. If not for my need to wipe Aly from Brad’s hard drive, I doubted I would have even made it to that computer.

The sickly-sweet smell of decomposition had plunged me into one of my most haunting childhood memories, and I’d spent the whole time in Brad’s house breathing through my mouth to avoid it. I swore I could still detect a hint of decay clinging to my skin, and, needing to be clean, I grabbed a nearby soap bar and started scrubbing it off.

I was still scrubbing when Aly slipped into the shower with me, and as much as I wanted her in my arms, I couldn’t make myself stop.

“Josh?” she said, placing her hand over my wrist.

“I smell it on me,” I blurted.

From the way her face crumpled, she knew without having to ask what I was talking about. She took the soap from me and stepped close, putting her nose into my chest. “You smell clean.”

“You’re sure?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

She rose on her tiptoes and sniffed my neck. Next, she lifted each of my arms and gave them the same treatment. “Nothing but lemon verbena.”

I tipped my head toward the yellow bar in her grip. “Is that what that is?”

She nodded and set it on the soap tray, taking my hands as she turned back to me. “I’m guessing you recognized the smell of bodies because of something to do with your father?”

I squeezed her fingers, grounding myself in her touch. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I lifted my head, looking past her, and the words started pouring out of me before I could stop them. “It happened the summer I turned eleven. Dad took me with him into town for some reason. His car stank to high heaven, so bad that even riding with all the windows open, I was gagging when he finally parked. I asked him what it was, and he said he’d hit a raccoon the night before, and some of it must have stuck to the undercarriage and was rotting because of the heat wave. Back then, I did whatever I could to stay in his good graces, so I went to the trunk to find something to clean it off with. Before I could get it open, Dad pushed me away so hard that I fell onto the pavement.”

I lifted my right arm, bending it to show Aly my elbow. “That’s where this scar came from.”

She leaned in and kissed it, her expression full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

I nodded and let my arm fall back to my side. “At the time, I was used to his anger, but that day, he looked scared, helping me up when people stopped to watch, telling them it was an accident, and apologizing to me like he never had before. Instead of going into the store, he told me to get back in the car so he could drive me home and clean my scrapes. Instead, he dropped me in the driveway and then took off for two days. I’m not sure where he went after that, but when he came back, the car was so clean it looked new, and it didn’t smell anymore.”

Aly stepped in close and wrapped her arms around my waist, careful to avoid my ribs, her breasts flattening against my stomach.

Had she been naked this whole time?

Wait, of course, she had. We were in the shower. Jesus, I hated the way memories of Dad still put me in such a chokehold, blinding me to my surroundings.

“You think one of his victims was inside the trunk?” Aly asked.

I hugged her close and rested my chin on her head. “Yeah. Dad was pretty active that summer. I just wish I knew the exact date it happened.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because there are still several missing women he’s suspected of killing who have never been found. If the date lined up with one of their disappearances, it might give the family some sort of closure or help the cops find her. I even tried hypnosis once to draw the details out, but it didn’t work. I feel like a fucking asshole for not being able to remember.”

Aly pulled back, frowning. “You know it’s not your fault, right? That you shouldn’t feel any guilt over it? You were a child, and your mind probably suppressed as much as it could afterward to protect you.”

I nodded and tugged her back in. “I know that, but it still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I understand,” she said. “It’s the same thing with me and the car accident. Not the memory part, but the guilt part. As much as I know it’s not my fault, I can’t shake the feeling of responsibility.”

“We’ve got some baggage between us, huh?”

Aly choked back a laugh. “Sorry. It’s really not funny.”

I took her by the shoulders and leaned back enough to look at her. “What?”

She scrunched her nose. “I just had a flashback to the other night and the literal baggage between us.”

I grinned. “I get it. It’s not ha-ha funny; it’s fucked up funny.”

The humor faded from her eyes almost as quickly as it had appeared. “I was so afraid for you tonight.”

Her words speared straight into my heart. “I was afraid for you, too.”

She shook her head, water droplets sliding down her face. “No, I mean it, Josh. I could not leave you behind. Not just because I couldn’t stand the thought of you trapped in that house alone with Brad’s poor victims, but because I didn’t trust Junior to keep his word about picking you up after.”

Ah, so she had similar fears about me making a great fall guy or, at the very least, being conveniently expendable. That wasn’t ominous at all.

Before now, I was chalking my suspicion up to paranoia, but knowing my girlfriend had come to the same conclusion made it feel like a much bigger threat. I’d have to be more careful around her family from now on. And I definitely needed to do whatever was necessary to stay on Nico’s good side.

I smoothed Aly’s hair back from her face, wrapping my fingers behind her neck so I could drag her closer. She came willingly, lips parting like she was subconsciously preparing for a kiss.

I dipped down and pressed my forehead against hers, feeling coldness steel up my spine as I remembered how afraid I’d been when she said she was staying behind. “You should have gone with them, even if it put me at risk.”

Her eyes flashed with stubbornness, and she tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip and held her where she was. The breath she released was ragged, and I didn’t miss the fact that even though she looked pissed, her nipples had tightened.

“That isn’t how this works,” she said. “You don’t get to sacrifice yourself for me. This isn’t the medieval times, and I’m not some damsel in distress.”

“The whole point of you staying in the van was so there was no sign of you at the house, Aly.”

“I know that,” she said.

“What if a neighbor saw you? What if a piece of your hair fell out, and the cops find it?”

Fast as lighting, she tipped forward and turned, breaking my grip on her. “My hair was in a braid,” she said, stepping as far back as the shower would allow. “And the closest I got to the house was when I helped you off the patio floor. The likelihood of them finding any sign of me is much lower than them finding some sign of you.”

I shook my head, closing the distance between us. “My hair was covered, and I had gloves on.”

“You might have left behind fabric strands.”

I tilted her chin up to make it easier to meet her eyes. “Fiber analysis is about as reliable as blood splatter these days, and all our clothes were generic polyester for a reason. Any fibers left behind could have come from anything.”

She huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’m sorry I broke my word to you, but I’m not sorry I stayed behind.”

I spun her around, wrapping my arms over her shoulders so I could lean down and speak my next words directly into her ear. “I wasn’t trying to sacrifice myself for you, and the last thing I think you are is a damsel in distress. I just want to keep you safe. And I’m sorry if I’m overbearing about it, but I care about you, Aly. I’m sure Tyler warned you that I tend to go overboard when it comes to the people I care about.”

“He might have mentioned it.”

Noticing that her skin was starting to pebble, I pulled her back beneath the water with me. “I guess we’re at an impasse then. We’ll both do anything to keep each other safe, even if that means pissing the other one off.”

She gripped my forearms and dropped a kiss onto the nearest one. “I’d rather have you care too much than too little.”

I squeezed her tight. “Same.”

We stayed like that for a few moments, the water running over us and heating our night-chilled skin until I felt like the warmth had finally soaked all the way to my bones, chasing away the last of the cold.

Aly hadn’t cleaned herself off yet, so I pulled my arms free and snagged the soap from its tray. I’d take any excuse to touch her, make her feel good, so I took my time rubbing it into her back, making it as much about loosening up her stiff muscles as it was about getting clean. The suds trailed down her skin, and I watched them slip all the way to her perfect ass.

My cock stirred to life as the sight of my naked girlfriend finally drove the lingering darkness away. We’d made it out. We were okay. We were safe. I didn’t know how long it would last, so I planned to make the most of whatever time we had, whether that be weeks or years or the rest of our lives.

I stroked the soap back up, my free hand trailing after it, following a long line of muscle.

Aly let out a soft moan and tipped her head forward. “That feels amazing.”

“Good,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

She turned toward me, lips parted as her gaze started to dip from mine to my straining cock. It jerked to a stop halfway there, landing on my side. “Okay, I cannot ignore your ribs any longer.”

The next five minutes consisted of us chronicling our injuries. After some painful poking and prodding, Aly finally agreed that my ribs probably weren’t cracked, just bruised. My shoulder and shins were in the same shape, and Aly, in full nurse mode, said I’d have to ice everything once we got out of the shower, which made me want to delay that moment as long as possible. The thought of pressing anything cold to my skin after how cold I’d been earlier was abhorrent, but from the stubborn look on Aly’s face, if I tried to argue with her again, I would lose.

Luckily, none of the scratches on our faces or necks from all the rogue tree branches were deep or long enough to require stitches. They were unsightly, though, and it made me glad for another excuse to stay locked up in Aly’s house for the next two weeks while we healed.

She stepped back after looking over the last of my scrapes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth in the way that drove me crazy. “Do you feel like we got off too easy?”

“Too easy? No,” I said, indicating my ribs. “But part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

She frowned and started soaping herself up. I did my best to maintain eye contact, but goddamn it, her tits were right there, dripping with suds, and I could already feel them filling my hands, warm and slick and sensitive to my every caress.

“Maybe it’s because we didn’t handle it ourselves,” she said, unaware of my plummeting thoughts. “At least, that’s it for me. I’m used to being in control all the time. The fact that I’m just supposed to trust an estranged uncle and cousins after they said they did their part isn’t sitting well with me. I want to know where the body is, who they’re going to sell Brad’s car parts to, exactly how they plan to trick the cops into thinking he’s fled to Canada.”

“Maybe you can butter Nico up with wine at family dinner and ask him then.”

She nodded. “It’s not a terrible idea. I really want to know how Junior had all those details about the investigation already.”

“Dirty cops,” I said. It was the most logical answer.

Her expression turned contemplative. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Unable to help myself, I reached out and stroked my hand over her shoulder. “As much as I hate the idea of dirty cops, having someone on the inside could benefit us. If they continue leaking the investigation to Junior, we’ll know if they find anything pointing to your family or us. Depending on how dirty they are, they might even hide evidence.”

Aly grimaced. “I don’t like benefiting from this kind of thing. It feels too close to what Brad was doing.”

I squeezed her shoulder. “Would you rather go to jail?”

“No,” she said. “I just don’t like it, and yes, I realize that probably makes me a hypocrite.”

I grinned. “Huge hypocrite.”

She slapped my hand away.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “But a hot one.”

Her response came out muffled because of the way I’d smooshed her face into my chest.

“I’m going to assume you just called me hot, too.”

She reached behind me and pinched my butt hard enough to make me jerk forward, which pinned my dick between our slick skin. I expected her to pull away and say something snarky, but she writhed against me instead. My need for her returned in a rush, all other thoughts drowned out by the memory of how good it felt to shove my cock inside her tight, wet pussy.

“Aly,” I said, stepping away from her. “I want you so bad right now, but if I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to pass out.”

Her face fell, but she caught it and shook her head. “No, you’re right. And same.”

I lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “Also, I’m not too proud to admit that I’m in so much pain that I don’t think I can worship you the way you deserve right now.”

She nodded, her expression full of understanding. “I can wait until you feel better. I know it’ll be worth it.” She lifted a hand to show me her wrinkly fingertips. “And I’m starting to prune, so I’m good with getting out of here.”

I turned away so she wouldn’t see me smile. Should I have felt bad for lying to my girlfriend? Maybe. But I had a feeling that when I woke her up in a few hours, she’d be more than willing to forgive me for it afterward.

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Chapter 25Aly

Asound woke me in the middle of the night. I’d been having the nicest dream about…something. It was already fading as I cracked my eyes open, but I thought it involved cold beer and a warm, sandy beach. What I wouldn’t give for a mid-winter Caribbean vacation. I had some money saved up. Maybe sometime during the next two weeks, Josh and I could slip away to –

My ceiling was awash with red. Why was my ceiling red?

Oh, fuck, was my house on fire?

I tried to jerk upright, but a yank on my arms had me floundering back onto the mattress. I craned my head up, panicking, and froze. There were black silk cuffs around my wrists, and the ropes binding them led straight to my headboard, where a complex series of knots that looked impossible to unravel secured them.

Fear punched through my lungs, stealing my breath away. Josh wasn’t in the bed beside me. We’d been curled up together when I fell asleep, with Fred perched on top of us. They were both gone now, and I must have been half out of it with sleep because all I could think was that Brad wasn’t actually dead, and he’d broken back into my house to finish what he’d started.

“Oh, good,” a deep, modulated voice tolled out. “You’re awake.”

I snapped my gaze up.

There he sat facing the foot of the bed, shirtless and lit with the deep crimson light he often used in his videos: the Faceless Man. His mask looked more threatening than I remembered, the cheekbones sharper, the black eyes deeper. His massive frame dwarfed my small armchair, making it look like something made for a child. Why had I never realized how ominous his tattoos were? Dark, twisted forms crawled up his arms like gothic nightmares emerging from hell.

One hand grasped a wicked-looking knife I’d never seen before, curved and razor-sharp – something made for skinning prey. The way he held it so casually, half dangling from his fingers as he twirled it in an idle circle, made it seem even more dangerous. Only someone well versed with weapons handled them with such little regard, as if they knew the tool so intimately it had become an extension of their arm.

It’s just Josh, I tried to tell myself, but the knowledge did little to calm my racing pulse.

Gone was my kind, funny boyfriend. In his place sat a man who radiated menace. With the mask on, it was like he’d become someone else. Or maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe he was still the same Josh I’d grown to care about so deeply, and wearing the mask allowed him to bring out a darker side of his personality that he kept hidden during the day. One that craved my fear as much as my desire.

He lifted the knife and pointed it at me, head tilting sideways in an unnerving, almost alien way because it was such an un-Josh-like gesture. I checked him over again to reassure myself that it was, in fact, my boyfriend and not a different masked stranger who’d broken into my house. The bruised ribs confirmed his identity, but my heart raced on.

“Spread them,” he said.

I glanced down to see the sheets pooled at my waist. I still wore the matching black satin tank and shorts I’d gone to bed in, and for that, I was grateful. It was bad enough that I’d slept through being tied up, but if I’d slept through being stripped, I would have had to book an appointment with a sleep clinic to see what the hell was wrong with me.

The Faceless Man’s tone brooked no argument, so I propped myself up on my elbows and slowly parted my bent legs. He leaned forward just enough to drag the sheets off them, torturously slow, and my skin was already so hypersensitive that I felt every inch of cotton slide over me like wandering hands.

What was he about to do to me?

He stood in a fluid motion. The red light must have been set on the floor somewhere near the foot of my bed because he bisected the beam, his massive form outlined on my far wall like some kind of kinky bat signal.

Turn it on, and he will come – pun intended.

The thought made me want to smile, but I had a feeling that it would only get me into trouble, and I was deep enough as it was. Now wasn’t the time to taunt the man who’d tied me up. Maybe after this was over and I knew what his retribution entailed, I would start acting bratty, but until then, I was too chickenshit to pile any more punishable offenses onto my plate.

He twirled the knife again, and my gaze dropped to it. So far, we’d only briefly talked about our shared bedroom fantasies, but we hadn’t gotten around to outlining just how far each of us was willing to take them, and the realization that he and I might have very different stopping points suddenly made me nervous.

No safe words, I reminded myself. If he pushed me too far, I could simply tell him to stop. After everything we’d been through, I trusted him enough to keep his word that he would.

He slid a knee onto the bed between my spread legs. The hand not holding the knife landed by my hip, and he leaned forward, braced over me. Fuck, he was big. His shoulders were so wide they blocked my view of the ceiling. Muscles rippled across his chest and down his torso as he balanced in place. Somehow, being around him so much recently had numbed me to our size difference, but looking up at him now drove home just how large he was.

A flash of metal had me dropping my gaze to the weapon he held. I was tied up, with a knife-wielding masked man looming over me. This was a fantasy I’d had for months, but the reality of it was much different. Yes, I was turned on. I wasn’t wearing panties beneath my silk shorts, and I could already feel the fabric of them soaking through with my desire. But I was also more afraid than I thought I would be. All I had to go on was my instinct to trust Josh and his insistence that he didn’t want to hurt me. That it was the moment my fear turned to lust he craved. If I was wrong, this could go so, so badly for me.

It only made me wetter for him.

The sharp edge of fear tipped my desire into the realm of darkness and heightened my other senses, making my skin so sensitive that every inch of me was turning into an erogenous zone. The Faceless Man lifted his knife and dragged the tip up the inside of my thigh, and I shivered beneath him, fighting back a moan.

He studied the blade's progress before lifting his soulless eyes to mine. “You’re beautiful when you’re scared.”

God, that was fucked up.

I loved it.

Only the threat of the knife kept me still beneath him. If not for its presence, I would have been writhing. My pussy throbbed, and I needed something to ease the ache, friction against my clit, or better yet, his monstrous cock filling me up. I’d never forget the initial sting of stretching around it, trying to take something so large and hard into my body. I was still a little sore from our first tryst, and I knew it would make this second time so much better – more painful at first, but then pure bliss when he was buried to the hilt, and I relaxed into pleasure.

He sucked in a breath above me, no doubt seeing the desire writ across my face. I used to think it was bad to wear every emotion so openly, but the way he reacted to them made me never want to change.

The knife slipped another inch upward, sharp enough to sting but not hard enough to break the skin. I held my breath as it got closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, my gaze moving over his straining muscles, twisted tattoos, and back to the bottomless black of empty eye sockets again. This was the hottest, most terrifying moment of my life, and holding still through it was absolute torture, which was likely his intent. I should have known my punishment would be as mental as it was physical.

“Don’t move,” he said.

I froze, going so far as to hold my breath when the knife swiveled against me, blade up as he slipped it beneath the hem of my shorts. There was a tug around my upper thigh as the fabric went taut, and then a soft sigh filled the room as he pressed the blade up, slicing through the satin. It sounded disturbingly close to a scalpel opening skin, and it sent my fear ratcheting up another notch.

I glanced down to see the right side of the shorts fall away. He pivoted the knife to my other thigh and cut that side free next. Only a small square of fabric was left covering me, and as I watched, he used the knife tip to drag it down until I was revealed to him. Cool air brushed against the heated, wet skin of my folds, making me shiver.

With a flick, he spun the knife to hold its blade pointed down, his fist wrapped around the handle. Then he braced his fist beside me, shifting his weight to it as he lifted his free hand. That hand went straight between my thighs, cupping my pussy. The urge to grind against him was so strong that I let out a whimper as I fought it back. His hand was so warm, so close to where I needed it.

“You’re soaked,” he bit out, sounding as tortured by my arousal as I was.

I tried to lift my arms, wanting to touch him, but I was so out of it with need that I’d forgotten about the goddamn restraints and landed flat on my back. As soon as I hit the mattress, he plunged his fingers inside me. I was so shocked by the sudden intrusion that my spine arched off the bed, and a gasp tore from my mouth. He gave me no time to adjust, shoving his fingers as deep as they would go, the heel of his palm grinding into my clit as he used his hand to fuck me.

I writhed, half trying to get away, half trying to get closer. It was so much, so soon, but as sudden as his invasion was, it was already making something tighten deep inside me. No. There was no way I was close to coming already.

He added a third finger, wet, slippery sounds filling the room, almost loud enough to drown out my continued gasps. His movements were harsh, relentless, thrusting so hard that my tits bounced, and my heels scrabbled against the sheets as I looked for some way to brace myself. He was fucking me like he was mad at me, like this wasn’t about getting me off, but spinning me as high as he could as fast as he could, and it made me nervous for what would come next.

The last edging nearly killed me, and he’d been in a playful mood then. I couldn’t imagine how torturous it would be when he was hell-bent on teaching me a lesson.

I should have been scared, and maybe I was, but the thought of being dominated like that, utterly out of control, was more thrilling than anything else. It was enough to end my momentary resistance to him, my heels going slack as I quit tilting my hips away and instead started thrusting them down to meet his palm.

Apparently, it was what he’d been waiting for. The second I started writhing against him, he pulled his fingers free, leaving my pussy clenching around nothing. I couldn’t stop the low hiss of frustration from slipping through my lips. I needed him. The sudden shock of loss was too much to endure. How dare he do this to me again, leaving me so desperate for him.

I couldn’t wait for him to make it worse.

The fingers that had been inside me glistened in the red light. He sat back on his heels and tipped his mask up just enough to slide his hand beneath it. A sucking sound told me he was cleaning my arousal off with his tongue. My inner walls spasmed at the thought of it, and more than anything, I wanted to watch, but the sight was denied to me, driving my frustration to new heights. Those fingers would be put to better use out of his mouth and inside me. As shocking as it had been, I craved the feeling of them pounding into me again.