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“You say, ‘thank you’.” He grits out. “Let me hear it.”
“Thank…Fuck, thank you,” I struggle to pronounce the words, my voice hoarse.
The waves of pleasure increase, and my muscles cramp tight for a second. Black spots appear in my vision, my thighs shake, and I lose control. The only thing I care about is reaching the climax, entering heaven, nirvana, and all the sacred places that would burn with this profanity.
I should probably go to hell, but instead of going lower, the ecstasy lifts me higher.
“That’s right. Thank me when you come on my fingers.”
And I do.
When the tidal waves turn into a tsunami, and the dam breaks with the flood of exhilarating satisfaction, I thank him lavishly until my voice goes raw and gritty. I moan, scream, and seize the release of endorphins. I don’t even notice when I bite the curve of his neck, hoping to drown out some of the noises erupting from me.
He grunts in my ear, accompanying me through the long and earth-shattering orgasm rattling in me. His fingers continue to thrust into me until my pussy stops contracting around him. It’s when he removes his hand from my pants and leads it under his mask to suck them clean.
That alone is almost enough to make me come again.
My mind takes a minute to return to my body, the haze of pleasure unclogging my receptors so I can experience reality. Though still quivering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, I blink rapidly, recovering some clarity.
Dios mío, I’m never seeing heaven after this.
I rake my fingers through my sweaty dark hair, ruffling the strands as I catch my breath. Shifting, I drop my sight to the knife resting on my collarbone, and I touch my throat to check that I don’t have any cuts. I know it’s a fake blade used to create the effect, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t feel real for a second. It’s sharper than any of the prop knives I’ve seen.
“That’s a little sharp for a prop knife,” I speak the thought out loud, my tone light, interrupting the silence that was filled by our panting. “Are you sure it isn’t real?”
He huffs, and a short laugh emerges from him. Leaning in again, he skims the knife from my collarbone to trail up to my mouth, where it stops on my bottom lip.
“We could check if it is, darling,” he offers in a low voice that causes the hairs on my arms to stand straight. “But I fear I might have to give you something to muffle the pretty little noises you’d make,” he muses, and I choke back a surprised noise. However, my body reacts to him, igniting the lust flame again, even when I came less than five minutes ago. At my response, he continues, “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You would love to have me filling your mouth with my cock, keeping you from screaming.”
My pulse drums at a rapid pace against my rib cage. He’s not lying. After the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me, I’m not sure why I haven’t dropped to my knees and returned the favor. But since I don’t want to be the only one playing the game, I choose to tease him too.
Staring deep into his mask, I stick my tongue out and sink lower to lick the blade from hilt to tip, like I’d work my mouth on him if he offered me the chance. All without breaking the eye contact.
That seems to be his breaking point, but instead of letting me be the one to kneel, it’s him who slides to the floor, dropping his knife to the ground. In a swift movement, he undoes my left boot. Before I get the opportunity to ask what the hell he’s doing, Silver Mask hooks his fingers on my pants and pushes them down along with my underwear, leaving me naked from the waist down.
I’m entirely on display for him and at his mercy.
Roughly, he parts my legs, hoisting one of them over his shoulder. His mask caresses my knee and I hiss at the unfamiliar texture that’s exploring the delicate skin.
“Darling, you looked so beautiful riding my thigh,” Silver Mask croons, inching closer and closer to my pussy. “I loved watching you get flustered with need, but right now, I would love nothing more than to watch you ride my mask. I want your scent all over me, so I can remember how it felt when I had my head buried between your thighs.”
ChapterFive
Climax
My mouth goes dry at his request.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had sex before. But there’s a stark difference between having a vanilla encounter in the bedroom and being asked to ride someone’s face while they wear a mask. Even having some semi-public play at a party doesn’t compare to this. This is where my sexual exploration journey has peaked, because everything else after this will pale in comparison.
God, it’s filthy. Almost too fucking indecent—yet I spread my legs farther to give him more access. Silver Mask grunts aloud as he buries his head deeper between my thighs, though all he does is brush the smooth rubber on my soaking wet pussy. I’m so slick that it glides effortlessly over the lips. Immediately, my hips buck at the sensation, and I mewl, the noise foreign in my throat.
A rush of blood travels over my face. I don’t have a single ounce of control with this man, whose name remains unknown. Hell, I haven’t seen what he looks like, but there’s no one else in this world who could turn me on as much as he does. The sinfulness in his spirit matches mine, keeping me company in the profane fantasies that inhabit our brains.
His fingers grip my thigh above his shoulder so hard, he’ll leave bruises, but I don’t mind a forced hand on me while he says such dirty things to me. My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled by him. I ache for the intense sensation of him filling me withanypart of his body. He won’t fuck me yet, not when he’s on his knees, waiting for me to follow through with his request.
There’s only one problem.
He’s too tall to make this comfortable.
