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“Did I do good?” I smile softly.
“Yes, puppet, you did such a good job. You are so good at taking my cock and cum.”
“I know I can take more. I’m empty, baby.” The way it affects me when he calls me puppet has the same effect on him when I call him baby. Theo doesn’t care much for pet names or receiving praise, but when it falls from my lips, he ignites. A fire lights behind his honey-colored eyes.
“Up,” he demands, and I respond as if he’s hot-wired straight to my legs. I’m a bit wobbly, but I’m up within seconds, awaiting his next command.
“Let’s go to the other room. It’s time you take me like a good girl.”
“Yes, Sir.” I go to turn, but he stops me.
“Let me see your ass. Does it hurt?” He reminds me of my newest marking, and if I’m being honest, I was lost in lust so deeply that I forgot it. The pain added to the pleasure.
Turning around, I look slightly over my shoulder and see his much taller frame descend. “A little. But it wasn't as noticeable when I was sucking you.”
His deep, proud laugh vibrates my heart. The heavy vibrato is one of my favorite things about him. It brings me both pleasure and a feeling of safety.
“Naughty mouth. Maybe I need to fill it again.”
I whimper, my thighs tightening and my core releasing a fresh wave of arousal. “I would let you do that repeatedly. Pleasing you is my favorite, Theo,” I admit to him.
“I know, puppet, as it is mine.” With that, he kisses the red open wound and follows up with a soft lick. He removes some of the remaining blood and swallows, moaning with gratitude.
He leaves his squat, returning to his full stature, and he walks around me, making his way to the door. Taking one step forward, he turns, and I look at his mask-covered face, confused.
“Stop.”
“What?” I question.
“Crawl to the next room.”
My brows draw up. That is one thing we haven’t done. I have never gotten on my hands and knees to crawl to him.
“Legs broken, Hanna?”
“No, I just….” I pause, and I can’t help but think about what I’m feeling. Do I want to do that?
“Safe word is yours to use. What is it?”
“Sirius.” I swallow.
“Good job. Now you can use it, baby. You have all the power.”
“Can I think about it?” The idea of turning him down for any reason has my stomach knotting with insecurities.
“Stop, Hanna. I’m reading the worry inside that pretty little head of yours.” He cups my face.
“I want to do anything you desire. I want to try new things with you.”
“You fucking breathing is my desire. You being mine is the only thing I need.”
Something about his face being hidden behind a mask makes this more intimate yet mysterious. Because even if I can’t see him, I can trust his words. That’s the one thing we will always have—unfailing trust.
Reaching up, I tuck my hands into his mask and find his face. The few days of stubble since his last shave scrapes against my skin, and my body becomes engulfed in raised bumps of excitement.
“Am I still what you want? Please be honest, Theo. Because I can only be confident for so long before I need you to reassure me,” I admit.
It’s been a long time since I last felt this way, and I held this secret, because I didn’t want him to be turned off by it. Our entire first year together, I had to work through lots of self-hate and internalized fat phobia, but then I came into my skin and loved the body I had. He loved seeing me desire my body the way he did. Will my moments of weakness set him back and turn him off?
“I would spank your ass, but that wouldn’t be good for my mark. Did you hear that?” He moves his hand to my neck and firmly grasps it.
“You don’t want to hurt me?” I question.
“Well, not in a way that wouldn’t make you want more. But markings, Hanna.” He pauses, leans in, and bites my chin. “You wear my marks, a sign of my ownership, of my complete obsession with you. If you only ever gave me scraps, I would still survive, because even giving me a taste is enough to feed the hunger in me. You are enough, puppet.”
There are tears that threaten to fall, but I want to leave them behind my green eyes. Yes, tonight was supposed to be an emotional reconnection, but it was meant to be wicked. Thrilling. The murder of our mundane sex life and the reawakening of our lust. We can rebuild the rest, but this Halloween—this is for our bodies.
“I trust you.”
“Good. Let’s go, my love.” He takes my hand, and we leave the room, heading to the next closed door, and I wonder what could be behind it. I assume it’s some other decorated room, but when the door opens, I see the entire wall is lit up from a projector, and I can’t help the little giggle that escapes me.
