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Chapter 16
Journi
Cruz showing up and bursting through the door was a shock. Cruz demanding I masturbate in front of him, then giving me directions still has me questioning if this is all a hallucination. That is until poor Cruise the vibrator is ripped out of his happy place, and I realize I really am about to enter the danger zone.
With pleasure, he had said. The bulge straining against his briefs is evident of that. My panties are jerked off my ankles, and then he masterfully removes my bra with the flick of a wrist. He steps back and his eyes roam over my nude body as he rolls on the condom. I’m at his mercy, his to do with my body as he pleases. I almost feel like some kind of virginal sacrifice—well, minus the virgin part. Then for whatever reason, my mind thinks this would be really funny if his name was Jason. Cabin. Lake. Burst into the room. But I don’t think Jason ever looked at his victims like Cruz is looking at me. Then again, he always wore the hockey mask.
“You’re making all kinds of faces and it’s kind of killing the mood. More than anything it’s bruising my ego since you seemed way more into it with a vibrator than me. And I’m the real thing.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t underestimate Cruise’s abilities.”
Cruz’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Cruz’s?”
“Yeah. Ironic that you and my vibrator share the same name. I swear he had that name long before I met you. And his name is spelled C-R-U-I-S-E. Yours is cooler, so there’s that.” When he continues to stare at me, I add, “Ask Jan.”
“I’d rather not,” he deadpans. Then his eyes cut to my phone and the song name, and it all begins to click into place. His lips pinch together, and he begins nodding. “This is, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck.
“But I was just thinking I’m glad you’re not named Jason. I don’t think I could hook up with a Jason at a cabin. Childhood trauma. Do you think anyone has a Friday the 13th kink? I bet they do. Kinky hockey mask sex out in a cabin by a lake somewhere… Ch-ch-ch,” I start making the classic sounds from the horror flicks until I feel two large fingers on my lips, effectively shushing me.
“I’m going to grab my scrubs, and slowly back away. We’re going to pretend I didn’t interrupt you and … Cruise.”
Was it something I said? Maybe now wasn’t the time to share those thoughts. “I’m sorry. Fun fact, sometimes I talk during sex.”
“Dirty talk or about horror flicks?”
“Whatever pops into my head, and I don’t even know why those thoughts popped into my head. I felt laid out at your mercy and then—”
The bed dips as Cruz climbs on top of me. “There’s an idea. I like when your mind goes in that direction.” It did, it just didn’t stay there. It kept going. As if he can see the hamster wheel turning, he grabs my wrists and then lifts them to the head of the bed. “Let’s see if we can keep your mind there. Or,” his hands slide down my arms and to my breasts, “have your mind on nothing but what you’re feeling in the moment.” His chest heaves above me as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “Me. I want you to feel all of me. I want your body and your mind at my mercy as I touch, taste, and fuck you until neither one of us is capable of thinking—only feeling.”
I take a much-needed breath as my tongue licks my lips. Now my mind is laser-focused on only him. How could I have even thought about anything else? This is fucking real. Had I been in denial so bad, or is it that my brain hasn’t had a chance to fully process that I’m back in the cabin, and Cruz Bryce is ready to own my body? Because I’ll gladly let him.
“Then do it,” I challenge.
He makes a low noise at the back of his throat before he grabs me by the throat and brings our mouths together. Our tongues intertwine as I bring my now free hand to the top of his shoulder. But he immediately stops.
His lips are ripped from mine. I protest and try to pull him toward me, but instead he shocks the hell out of me as he flips my body over to where I’m lying on my stomach. “I’m going to deny your greedy hands for calling out the name Cruise and not meaning me.”
He allows more of his weight to press my body into the mattress. So far, I don’t feel like I’m being denied anything. I’m relishing the feel of his warm body taking control.
“How do you know I wasn’t masturbating to thoughts of you?”
“Were you?” he purrs in my ear.
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
I feel a sting on my shoulder, and then the sweet, tingling sensation of his tongue running along the fresh bite mark. He alternates between kisses and licks up my neck and to my ear, where he nips my ear lobe. “I appreciate that. But you still brought up another man’s name.”
“Jason?” He’s fictional—or so we think. I still wouldn’t trust myself in a cabin by a lake alone. Why risk it? I yelp when I feel Cruz’s teeth against my other shoulder. He repeats the same attention to that side as he did the right.
“I only want to hear my name fall from your sweet lips. Especially when you’re nude, and especially when you’re fucking coming and still wet afterward.”
Somebody is possessive. And my body is responding so hard to him. It’s almost embarrassing how I’m melting beneath him and ready to mew and purr like a cat for his affection. I need him to touch me more, be inside of me…hell, make good on his word that I’m not going to be able to even think once he’s finished. Let’s start then, big guy.
“It’s been too long, so you’ll need to hold on.”
Before that little statement can be processed, Cruz thrusts himself all the way in and deep. So, so fucking deep. The low moan that comes from him has my toes curling. He pauses long enough for my body to adjust, and then he plunges into me again. I bend my knees so I can dig my heels into him, needing to somehow still touch him. His low chuckle lets me know he is aware of what I’m doing. He reaches back with one hand and grabs an ankle. Dr. Cruz Bryce apparently has a biting kink because I feel his teeth nibble my big toe. He kisses the top of my foot, and I’m surprised with how the sensual kiss on the delicate skin has my abs tightening.
My ankle is released, only to have him grab my shoulders and then flip me back over. “Me trying to punish you is only torturing myself. I want to be able to watch your beautiful face. Then,” his breath comes out low and guttural, “I want to watch your lips cry out my name as you stare up at the man who is doing this to you.”
