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Can he?
The door tohisbedroom opens, and I nearlystopbreathing at that. I want to close my eyes, but instead, they stay glued to the closet door in front of me with its slats that let in only the barest bit of light from the room beyond.
He flips on the lamp beside his bed, pushingmorelight into the closet, and I move just a little bit so I’m as tucked into the corner as I can go.
The closet door opens. I keep my hand over my mouth andstopbreathing as Cyril walks inside, goes all the way to the back, and as I watch his boots he stands there, sighing softly.
“Oh, Wendy,” he sighs, and I flinch. But he hasn’tlookeddown here, and there’s no way inhellthat Cyril knows where I am. “It’s only been about twelve minutes or so, but I have to tell you something.”
All of a sudden, he kneels down and looks straight at me, the eyes of his red-faced mask close to my face.
It pulls a gasp from me, and then Cyril’s hands are on my body as he jerks me from my hiding spot anddragsme back into his bedroom to shove me down onto his bed on my ass.
“I have cameras in my house. And motion sensors. All connected to my phone.” He tilts his head as he says it, and as I watch he removes the mask to grin down at me, every inch the pleased predator.
But his words make me inhale sharply, heat twisting in my stomach. “Youwhat?” I cry, only half-expecting the gloved hand that finds my throat to tilt my head up at him. “That’s cheating, Cyril!”
“Very much so,” he agrees, dragging his thumb over my bottom lip. “It’s extremely awful of me when you never had a chance at all.”
“Why nottell meat the front door?”
“Because that would’ve ruined the fun, and you didn’task.” He pauses to gaze down at me, his smile still wicked. “What’s your safeword, Wendy Darling?”
“Fuckingterracotta,” I mutter after a moment. My irritation is mostly for show and only because I’m a little affronted at not having guessed something was up somehow. Because Idowant him. And a big part of me with no survival instincts isthrilledhe’s caught me and dragged me out here like I’m his prey.
And as such, I’m utterly at Cyril’s mercy.
With the hand around my throat, Cyril jerks me roughly to my feet, his mouth finding mine and kissing mehard. Teeth and tongue find my lips, and he bites down so roughly that I whimper, my hands twisting in his black jacket while his other gloved hand grips my waist as though I might still try to escape.
But I don’t want to escape. I’ve realized that Ineverwant to escape him or the other Lost Boys.
“You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” he purrs, pulling away to run his thumb over my bottom lip. He slides it into my mouth, and the leather feels and tastes strange on my tongue. “Nod for me.”
I nod, though it’s mostly just him pulling my chin down to get me to do so.
“Arlo gave me something.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the leather collar I’d worn for Arlo at the club. I inhale, surprised to see it again, and surprised by the way my stomach twists with anticipation. “He’s never used it before you. So now I think we’re going to call ityours.” Slowly he reaches up to buckle the collar around my throat, then hooks his finger in the o-ring in the front. “You deserve more than one, though. Maybe one for each of us. I’ll have to convince Ezra not to buy you one withspikeson it.”
“Sharp spikes,” I say, unable to help it. “If I can’t use it as a deadly weapon, what’s the point?”
Cyril rewards me with a soft smirk but gently yanks on the collar. “I didn’t ask you,” he says, amusement in his tone. “I was thinking out loud. Besides, Wendy, haven’t we established that there are so many better things to do with your mouth apart from getting the last word with me?” He meets my gaze with his and puts downward pressure on the collar around my neck. “I think we should start exploring some of those options. Your mouth is too fucking pretty tonotbe on my cock.”
I drop to my knees as he shrugs out of his jacket and unzips his pants, his cock already half hard just from hunting me down and dragging me out of the closet.
“You’re going to be so good for me,” Cyril promises, hand still on my jaw as I wrap my hand around his length. He moves to grip my hair instead, just holding onto me while I lick at the head of his cock. He inhales, and I glance up to see his reaction, only for his hold on my hair to tighten so hard I give a very soft yelp. “You don’t need to look up,” he purrs. “Not unless I tell you to. Now open that pretty fucking mouth of yours.”
I do so, and he tilts my head back just enough to see that my mouth is open before reaching down to replace my hand on his cock with his so he can slide his cock between my lips, slowly, until the weight of him is resting on my tongue.
“Just like I thought,” he adds, keeping me in place so he can slowly fuck my mouth, going deeper each time he does before pulling out teasingly so the head of his cock is just at my lips. “You think you’re just so cute and witty. That you always have suchperfectcomebacks.” He enunciates the words with a particularly hard thrust that causes him to brush the back of my throat. Reflexively I swallow around him, and his hand tightens in my hair so that he can hold himselfthere.
“But you know what, Wendy? I think you do that just to distract from how much you’ve always wanted to beright here. On your fucking knees doing just this. Admit it; you love my cock.” He’s notwrong. I’ve loved it since he fucked me a few days ago, and I love it just as much now as he fucks my face like I’m just here for him to use however he wants.
And that thought shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
He continues his praises, as filthy as they are, as he sets his own pace for using my mouth. My hands rest against his thighs, and with my head tilted back, I canjustsee the angle of his face to know that he’s leaning back slightly.
Suddenly his other hand joins the first, gripping my hair tightly so he can pick up the pace of his thrusts, drawing a moan from me that reverberates around his cock as my hands tighten in his jeans. “So fucking perfect,” he says, and it sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth. “Just a little more for me, Wendy Darling. I just want to see you choke a little for me. You don’tmind, right?” It’s a rhetorical question, though one that he’s right about, and as he continues to drive into me, my lungs burn from lack of oxygen. I feel hazy at the edges like I’m tunnel visioning a little, and tears gather in my eyes before falling down my cheeks.
Finally, when I’m sure I’m about to pass out but not willing to try to get him to stop, he pulls away, slipping out of my mouth as he lifts me up to push me back onto the bed, where I fall onto my back.
