Page 17 of The Mask

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“Yes,” I pant.

The sting of the blade pricks my collarbone. “I like hurting you, Mouse. Don’t know what’s wrong with me, but when you bleed for me, my cock gets hard. I like the fear in your eyes right before you come for me. You’re the perfect slut, Bree. My perfect little whore. You want me, Bree. There’s no one you’ll ever want more than me. And if you ever did, I’d slit their throats with the knife I just used on your flesh.”

My nails dig into his neck, pressing down, wanting him to feel the need for pleasure mixed with pain that we share. He fucks me against the wall while he moves his hand holding the blade to my clit. My body and mind are in unison—this is the man I want, the man I need. My heart constricts at the pain he must endure to hide himself from me, to be ashamed of who he is. I want to know him, all of him, not just the fractured moments of unadulterated pleasure he provides me.

He rubs the handle of the knife against my clit. My body is transcending, my mind reaching new peaks, and the pleasure surging through me is undeniable and forceful.

“Come for me, Bree. Come for me like the good little slut you are.”

I clamp down on his neck and bite to muffle my scream as I come on his dick.

“That’s it, baby. Come for Daddy. Show me how much you love my cock in your cunt. How you crave it. I’m going to fill my pussy now, baby.”

Mikhail's words are feral as he releases into me. He pulls out and falls to his knees. His hot mouth latches on to my cunt, sending new sensations up my spine.

“Let it drip into my mouth, Bree. I want all that cum. Push it out for me, baby.”

I watch in fascination as cum leaks from my pussy directly into his open and waiting mouth. “Oh, God. I think this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Once Mikhail has his fill, he rises and stares at me. He fists my hair, yanking it back to tilt my head, and my mouth opens for him as he pinches my nostrils. Standing here with my mouth open wide, I watch with pure unbridled passion as the cum from his mouth falls into mine before he kisses me hard. The kiss is consuming, passionate, and filthy. It represents the depravity of who we are, who we will always be.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you, Bree?’

I nod, knowing that no matter what I say or do, every part of me belongs to this man.

“I never want to hear you talk about not being mine again, Bree, because I’ll never let you go.” He pushes away from me and tucks his cock back into his pants.

The door lock clicks, letting me know our time is up. Mikhail holds onto the door before turning to me and shocks me by removing his mask.

The man is a work of art. A chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, five o’clock shadow on his jaw. His face would make the most handsome man in Hollywood weep.

I walk to him, my hands tentative as I cup his stubbled cheeks. Gazing firmly into his blue irises, I tell him something I’m not sure he’s heard before. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beauty is skin deep, Bree. Don’t let the charade fool you. I’m a monster.”

“Maybe, but you’re my monster. I want to know you, Mikhail. I don’t want you to hide from me. You don’t have to.”

“I’ll pick you up after work.”

And with that, I’m alone in the dark storage closet with a full heart and a satiated pussy.

ChapterTwelve

Mikhail

Bree places her finished plate in the dishwasher before turning and circling her arms around my waist. A hug. She’s hugging me. It’s odd for a man in his thirties to be confused by such a simple gesture. But simple touches filled with care are foreign to me.

“Dinner was lovely. Thank you.”

I tug her toward me. I feel like I’ve all the riches in the world because she’s in my arms. “The company is even better.”

She tilts her head and gazes at me, her eyes full of compassion and warmth. “It’s time to spill the beans.”

I appreciate her light nature in approaching a serious subject, but I understand that what I’m about to tell her may change how she sees me forever.

I kiss the top of her head and take her hand, walking her to the couch. “This is hard for me. My best friends haven’t even heard the entire story. I’m not sure I ever want to tell them.”

“Whatever you tell me, Mikhail, it stays between us.”


Tags: Mila Crawford Dark