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They both chuckle at my look before one tilts his head to the side. “We agreed we would take your blindfold off. We said nothing about our masks or your restraints, Little Darling.”
Well, fuck.
I really should have thought through the price of my submission better.
Chapter 15
Truth
IfIwasn’talreadyobsessed with her, then what just happened would have fucking pushed me completely over the edge. Her mouth was like sticking my cock into a piece of heaven, out of this world and forbidden at the same time considering I already know that isn’t where I am going to end up.
But the moment she came apart while being suffocated, all my dreams came true. I just wish I could have seen her eyes in that moment, watched the fear enter them and take over as she struggled for breath and couldn’t find it, how her eyes would have glazed over as the endorphins rushed into her body, and then how her eyes would have rolled back as she shattered.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about it; my cock is already rock hard again.
She growls softly at Dare pointing out the limitations on our agreement and I almost laugh again. Silly, Little Darling.
We aren’t new to the negotiation game. It would only ever work out well for us and bad for her. Though if she continues to negotiate like she did this visit then I am completely happy with that.
She adjusts on the couch, trying to get comfortable while the restraints still dig into her wrists. She must feel her own cum on her thighs when she moves as a flush creeps up her neck. It's a captivating sight, one that intensifies the heat coursing through my veins.
I choose to break the silence; maybe that will help get my cock under control. “It’s almost midnight, Little Darling. Did we sufficiently ‘interact’ with you today?”
Or maybe not.
Her growl, soft yet filled with defiance, only serves to heighten my desire and I find myself chuckling at her heated look. She is no damsel in distress, no fragile princess waiting for salvation. She is a force to be reckoned with, a match for the darkness that resides within us. She is not the one in need of saving; she is the one who saves herself.
Neither one of us is prince charming, we are the villains. But we both recognise the darkness that lurks inside her, and we all know she doesn’t need prince charming.
Hell, personally I would love to watch her slaughter prince charming and then fuck her in his blood, but that is my own depraved mind talking.
I can't deny the twisted fantasies that consume me, the desire to witness her savagery, to indulge in the depths of her darkness. We are the catalysts for her awakening, the ones who will unveil the depths of her desires and her own depravity.
As I watch her, her flush rising, her eyes closed in a moment of respite, I feel the heat coursing through my veins. I am captivated by her, consumed by the desire to push her limits, to see her embrace that side of herself.
She is a contradiction, an intoxicating blend of strength and vulnerability. And in this twisted dance, I find satisfaction. We are her villains, and she is our muse, a canvas upon which we paint our darkest desires.
Tilting her head, she opens her eyes to look at us again, her gaze filled with a mixture of curiosity and frustration. "Is there any point to me trying to know which one of you is which?" she asks, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.
Dare responds, his tone teasing and suggestive. "Probably not, unless we want you to scream it while we make you cum for us." His words hang in the air, a provocative invitation.
She contemplates her next question, a spark of determination in her eyes. "Will I ever see your faces?" she asks, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of longing.
I chuckle softly, relishing in the power of our anonymity. "Maybe, maybe not," I reply cryptically. "Who knows what the future holds for us."
Her frustration grows, but it only adds fuel to the fire within me. I find pleasure in her longing, in the knowledge that she yearns to unravel the enigma that we are. But that is a desire I am not yet willing to fulfill.
As she continues to search for questions, attempting to seize control of the situation, she poses a query that holds weight. "Are you going to kill me?" Her voice is slightly hesitant, a testament to the emotions that linger beneath the surface.
Dare, never one to shy away from the truth, offers a response, though it may not provide the comfort she seeks. "How about this," he begins, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "If we are going to kill you, we will let you know before we do." His words hang in the air, leaving an unsettling sense of uncertainty.
I fight the urge to laugh, my lips twitching with suppressed amusement. Her frustration is palpable, but it only fuels the intensity of the moment. She needs to ask better questions, to probe deeper into the twisted recesses of our minds.
She continues to assess us, her mind working furiously to find the right words. "Are you stalking anyone else right now?" she asks, her tone laced with curiosity.
I pause for a moment, considering her question. "Not currently," I reply. The truth is far more complex than a simple yes or no, but revealing our secrets would only strip away the allure of our game.
I watch her closely, captivated by the way her mind processes our answers. There is a hunger in her eyes, a thirst for knowledge and understanding. She longs to delve deeper into our twisted world, to explore the complexities that lie within.
