Page 37 of Your Masked Haunting

Holy shit.

She wraps her warm mouth around my tip as I fucking black out, an orgasm from another dimension tearing through time, space, and every cell in my body. I’m groaning and grunting into her pussy while coming in her mouth, and I can’t imagine a more perfect moment than this.

Time suspends as she pumps me, working every drop into her mouth until I’m completely drained. Eventually, she sits up and throws her leg over me, getting to her feet. I quickly pull my mask back down and prop myself up on my hands.

She starts to walk away, but I lash out, grabbing her thigh and pulling her back toward me, helping her down to my level, her legs straddling me and her pussy dripping between the lower mounds of muscle on my abs, her back crazing my dick.

There’s a good chance I’m actually levitating off of the ground right now from how perfect this night has been.

“Where do you think you were going, huh?” he asks me sweetly, securing his hands on my hips. “Can’t just use me and run away.”

I scoff, a giggle slipping past my lips. “I don’t think it was me using you during that.”

I can’t see behind his mask, but I know he’s smirking.

“And you loved it. Craved it. Wanted it even harder and dirtier. Admit it.”

Nibbling on my bottom lip, I drop my face into my hands, my blush feeling hot enough that I’m likely cherry-red. “Yeah, I did and do.” My words are muffled against my palms.

His abs flex as he gently grabs my wrists, taking away my shield. “No hiding from me, baby. There’s no judgment here.”

Nothing can ever possibly compare to that otherworldly experience. And that was just our first time really together. Can it get better than that? Grittier? I want it to.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers between us.

I begrudgingly meet his mask. Our hands are intertwined between our bare chests, and I’ve never felt more vulnerable and raw than I do right now.

“Talk to me.”

I swallow hard, emotion bubbling up in my throat like hot poison. What the hell is wrong with me? That was the best sex I’d ever had in my life, hands down, and now I’m fighting back tears.

“Hey.” He sucks in a quick breath, his spine straightening as much as physically possible in the position we’re in. All of a sudden, his hand is around me, and he spins us one hundred eighty degrees so he’s leaning back against the bookshelves. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I—” It’s as if sharp claws are dragging down my neck, slicing open my esophagus. And I can’t breathe.

Suddenly, he pulls me to him, his hand cradling the back of my head and tucking me into the crook of his neck. Up and down, his fingers roll across my back, his other arm a gentle bar around my waist. I couldn’t escape this grasp even if I wanted to.

My arms are folded between us, and I’m completely encased in his embrace. A swell of emotion grows in my chest, my eyes burning. I don’t want to cry right now, but apparently, that’s just another thing out of my control.

“Let it out, Mona,” he coos.

I realize I just sobbed heavily into him, and tears have burst down my face, dropping onto him.

“I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he rocks me back and forth, and I hate to admit that it’s the safest I’ve ever fucking felt. His heart beat pulses against my chest, my breathing gradually syncing up with his as my nervous system finally starts to calm. Minutes pass by as he clings to me, scared that I might bolt, but the truth is, he’s the only thing holding me together right now.

I didn’t realize how much of my past I had repressed, buried deep down in order for me to wake up and keep going. I didn’t realize that my body had been in fight-or-flight mode for so long, and this brief glimpse at reprieve feels like falling out of a plane without a parachute. The comedown is intense and so overwhelming. But I wouldn’t even understand what this felt like if it wasn’t for him.

Somehow, in the heart of a haunted house, I’ve found a pocket, a safe haven where my guards can fall.

I sink into his hold, melting against his body until I’m unsure where I stop and he begins. We stay like this, wrapped in each other, neither of us making a move to pull away. There’s nowhere else I'd rather be.

My eyes flutter open, landing on the smooth skin of his neck, a place I’ve never touched. It dawns on me that I don’t know how he kisses, how his lips feel when pressed against mine. I’ve been properly educated on how they feel against my core.

Does his neck taste salty from the workout we just did? Will goose bumps erupt if I run my tongue up to his ear? Does he like his hair played with, his head scratched, his skin brushed?

My hand’s already moving, sinking into the back of his hair. He sucks in a breath as I interlock my fingers with his blond waves. The man must use conditioner to have hair this soft, my God.