Page 77 of Petrify

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but I’m not entirely sure what for. For taking his mask, for running, for his doomed fate, being relegated to this little dark room. For everything.

“Are you?”

He lets go, and weak with panic, I fall to my hands and knees. He follows, shoving my leggings down to my thighs, pressing himself into me. He doesn’t prepare me, doesn’t stretch me on his fingers, but it doesn’t matter. My body eagerly gives in.

“Didn’t get very far, did you?” he says, sheathing himself all the way.

My back arches, my thighs shake. Pathetic whines fall from my lips at every thrust, and I’m pushing my hips back against him, needing his wrath, needing him deeper,harder.

“Too fucking easy,” he says. “You wanted to be caught.”

I nod, tears blurring my vision, because it may as well be true. I don’t know what that makes me. Anyone else would be terrified of him. Anyone else would have screamed the moment he removed his hand from my lips. Instead, I cry out his name, burying my face in the carpet.

I want him to need me. I want to take up all of his thoughts, the way he does mine.

“I hadn’t planned on bringing you here. But now that you are, I want to lock you in and never let you out.”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” He looms over me, nudging his cock deeper. “Please lock you away? Please forgive you? Please go easy on you? You know I can’t do that.”

I don’t expect my orgasm. It crashes through me in seconds, building to an intensity too overwhelming. My hips buck against him, and I fall forward, biting my arm to keep from screaming.

“They’ll never think to look here. They’ll think you’ve gone missing, just like the little worker you’re so fond of. Replace you. And you’ll be all mine.”

He doesn’t slow down. His heavy breathing is muffled by his mask, and I have the urge to do it again, to reach up and tear it away from his face, this wall between us, even when his cock is deep in my pussy. This spark of disobedience, this frustration, burns hot in my chest, but I can do nothing about it when he’s pinning me to the ground and fucking into my spasming cunt.

What would he do if I took his mask again?

How badly would he hurt me?

“Fuck.” He hisses through his teeth as his hips snap to mine. Inside me, his cock jerks. I moan along with him as he comes, his fingers digging into my hipbones hard enough to bruise. He thrusts a few more times, his chest heaving, and when I look back at him looming over me, the rage has faded from his hooded eyes.

He doesn’t move for a moment, peering down at me through the slits in his mask. His face is slowly coming together like puzzle pieces in my mind, but some of it’s still missing.

“Don’t ever run from me like that again,” he whispers, somewhere in between a plea and a command.

I’m still limp with pleasure beneath him, tears tracking down my cheeks. “Okay.”

Eventually he pulls out, the cool air a shock on my slick center. He cradles my body against his, his gentleness jarring,settling behind me with his arm under my skull. As my breathing calms, so does his.

My head is blessedly silent for some time, my thoughts wandering from the pleasure of feeling so spent, to the pleasure of his warm body against mine.

He’s never held me like this before. Never kept me so close I could feel each breath expanding his ribs.

“You live here,” I whisper, scared to speak too loudly.

His fingers twitch. “This is the room I’ve beenbanishedto.”

“You’ve been here the whole time.”

In the walls.

I roll over. It’s an effort to even move, a deep, sore ache between my legs.

“Yes.”

My mind spins with this new information. “Is this how you…”