Page 50 of Not Another Dark Romance

He presses against me and chuckles darkly. “You really are a pathetic slut. Letting a masked stranger shove their cock in you.” With that, he breaches me, and the initial shock steals my breath before I cry out into the couch cushions. He doesn’t stop, just keeps pushing, taking me, making me his as he sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fucking hell, Pet. If I’d known how amazing you’d feel, I’d have taken what’s mine sooner.”

His praise lights me up inside as he waits a moment to let me adjust before he starts to move. Hard and fast. Each thrust sends a jolt through me, testing my limits. It’s a mix of pain and pleasure at being stuffed like this for the first time in such a long time, but I have no intention of saying peaches. I want him to use me like this. The soreness will be a reminder of him. Of this fantasy.

Zane fucks me into the couch, my face still sideways on the cushion so I can see his mask looming over me, a constant reminder of the stranger he’s become tonight.

“You like being chased, caught, and used? Just a hole waiting to be filled?” he breathes out through his thrusts.

“Yes, Master,” I whine in response.

He uses one hand to grab the back of my neck and pulls me up to his chest before letting that same hand snake around the front of my throat. He squeezes and releases quickly, three times. It’s a heady rush, and I melt into him, letting him hold my weight against him with his other hand.

“But I’m not a real stranger, am I? You’re fucking mine. I own you. My prisoner. My Pet.”

The words are filled with so much reverence, and I can only hope he means them because I’ll never, ever be okay without this in my life again. Not when I’ve had a taste, and it’s sweeter than the world’s juiciest peach. “Yours,” I breathe, and the claim he just placed on me has my dick leaking all over. I’m so desperate to touch it. I can’t help but reach for it, uncaring if Zane punishes me.

The second I start to pump my fist over my shaft, he squeezes my throat. The edges of my vision blur for a moment, but I don’t stop stroking myself. I want to see how far I can push him. How much punishment I can take.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he growls as he continues to thrust into me.

I can’t answer, only shake my head as my lungs burn.

“Greedy little thing,” he murmurs. “Take what you want, then. Just know every stroke comes with a price.”

He loosens his grip, and I suck in a ragged breath, and then he tightens it again. It’s a sick, twisted game, and I’m a willing participant. He’s controlling my every breath, every sensation, and I’ve never felt more alive.

My orgasm is building faster and faster, a tidal wave of pleasure, and I refuse to let go of my cock. I’m so close, right there.

“Please, Master. Need to come,” I choke out.

“Is that right?” he mocks me. “You think you deserve that?”

“Please,” I whine, almost tipping over the edge. “Please, please.”

“Fine. Come for me, Pet. Come all over my couch like the naughty little animal you are.”

My release is instant. I explode with a cry, my body shaking as I come harder than I ever have before as he fucks me through it. It’s a violent, messy orgasm that leaves me shaking. It’s pathetic how hard I came because of the words he said and the humiliation he inflicted.

He doesn’t give me time to recover. “Bend over and clean it up with your tongue while I come in your ass.”

“Mmmm,” I whimper loudly. It’s so degrading what he’s asking, and yet I dive forward with my tongue out, lapping at my release on his leather couch below me without hesitation as he continues to use my hole for his pleasure.

The second I swallow it down, he’s shouting, “Fuck. Holy fuck.” And I grin to myself, knowing the sight of me doing something so inhumane tipped him over the edge.

He doesn’t say anything as he comes down from his orgasm. He just pulls me back to him as he breathes heavily. His grip is possessive, and I feel like we’re one beautiful, fucked-in-the-head mess—and I’ve never felt more satisfied. His flavor of deranged speaks to mine, and this just proved we’re a fucked-up match made in sin.

“Next time you touch yourself without permission,” he says, his voice still rough with desire, “the chase will be longer, and the punishment will be harsher. Understand?”

I nod, my body still trembling from the intensity of our encounter. “Yes, Master.”

22

Ifinally pull the mask off, still panting, trying to catch my breath as I process everything that just happened. I’m still holding Mason close, not ready to pull out, and the thought makes me laugh.

He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “What?”

“I just…” I trail off, smiling at him as I attempt to figure out how to put everything I’m feeling into words. “I can’t believe I just did that. Or how hot it all was. Easily the best sex I’ve ever had.”