With my free hand, my fingers dive into the band of my boxers and shove all the cumbersome fabric down, the turgid, fiery flesh of my cock familiar as I stroke it in front of her terrorized gaze.
Tears coat her cheeks, and the sight makes a bead of pre-cum collect on my tip and roll down the veiny underside of my shaft. I’ve only ever dreamed about a moment like this, but I’ve seen enough to know what I want to try, what I think will feel good to me. Trembling in ecstasy, I cinch the belt tighter and force her blotchy face to hover over my cock. When she chokes on a sob, I almost come.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I press the head to her pursed, pleasantly wet lips, tracing her tender flesh reverently as my heart races and my body shivers in a wave of euphoria. Her moist skin being forced to kiss mine sends electricity through my cock and has my balls tightening in preparation to come on the spot, so I pull away and take a moment to stand upon the cliff’s edge.
She opens her mouth to speak, and my primal instincts kick in; I yank the ends of the beltand slam my cock into her wet, hot mouth, her tongue wiggling like a velvet snake against my sensitive dick. A mix between a breathless sigh and groan leaves my damaged throat, and she shakes her head back and forth, spitting out my cock and sucking in a lungful of air.
“I’ll wash you!” she cries, quivering against me. “I’ll…I’ll wash you, please…”
Dammit.
I frown down at her, though all she is able to see is my masked face, my soaked cock, and my bare torso. WhatIsee, however, is something I’ll never forget, because the way those shining green eyes are pleading with me, the way the drool dribbles down her chin, the way her hair is wild and untamed—all of it is perfection.
Before I took her, Summer spent so much fucking wasted time trying to keep up with society’s latest trendy standards. If only she knew how perfect she was like this, a broken little doll on her knees for a man that will do everything to keep her—even if it means I can’t fuck her throat.
Yet.
I nod once, releasing her and fishing for the key to her cuffs in my pocket. The moment she’s free, she rubs at her bruised, cracked wrists and wipes discreetly at her tongue. My lips mash together in a frown. Turning away, I crank on the shower and step aside, stripping the remainder of my clothes off before glancing at her.
She stares at the mattress, twisting her hands together.
Annoyed, I snap my fingers, and she jumps, glancing at me. I wave her over, and she takes a moment to consider before finally obeying. She knows what I am capable of, understands that there really isn’t anything preventing me from taking what’s mine, and so as much as she desires to lash out, she’s smart enough to keep some things to herself.
Summer pauses at the edge of where the water hits the concrete, and I tug on the sleeve of her shirt. Again, her frightened eyes bounce to mine.
“What…wait, you didn’t say anything about me being naked!”
I roll my eyes and point at the stream of hellishly hot water, as if to remind her you don’t shower with clothes on. Her eyes narrow into a glare as she crosses her arms.
“You’re still wearing a mask, so I can still wear a shirt.”
I snort, snatching her arm and yanking her to me, ripping off the sweatpants I gave her as she screams and claws at me. With an arm around her midsection, I lift her tiny, kicking feet off the ground and yank off her shirt as well. “Fucking…asshole…”
Setting her back to her feet, I turn her toward the wall, releasing her with my hands but pressing my knee to her lower back in case she tries to dart away. Taking off my mask, I roll it until it’s a thick, black band of fabric.
Gently, I run my fingers over her cheek as she jumps and whimpers. She only resists a little when I maneuver the makeshift blindfold over her eyes, but her breathing becomes erratic. Dropping my knee, I place my hands on her shoulders and guide her toward the shower. She winces as the water hits her, and I marvel at how the droplets bounce off her peaked breasts. My cock weeps and aches, but this is a type of torture I will forever endure.
Reaching for the bar of soap, I grip her wrist and turn her palm over to hand it to her, stepping into the stream as well. Blind and trembling, her would-be gaze is directed at my left pec, and I can’t help but grin down at her.
It’s strange to know everything about someone but notreallyknow them. Her millions of followers will never see this beautiful side to my Summer, the frightened girl who comes like a pornstar when my fingers are playing with that resistant wall deep in her pussy.
I guide her hand, pressing the soap to my chest, the scent erupting between us, a floral and girlish one that I now associate with her. She’s rigid and barely moves, but when she senses I’mnot about to pounce, I release her and allow her to swipe the bubbly soap over my torso.
As fucking turned on as I am, a far more powerful and surprising emotion hits me;happiness. She’s touching me. The woman I am deeply possessed by is touching me, and she’s the first girl to ever do so. I’m smiling, then full on-grinning as she fumbles the soap and tries to catch it with a gasp, slipping until her chest collides with the upper portion of my abdominal muscles.
“So-sorry, sorry,” she mutters, frozen against me as I grip her elbows. Between us, my cock points directly to her cunt; even in her preoccupied state, she’d moved her hips back so that the impending collision would only be our chests.
Cautiously, I bend to retrieve the soap, but when I’m about to stand, a flash of bright red catches my eye, and I freeze.
There’s blood on her thighs, running down her legs in amounts that have my heart clenching in fear and the rest of me on fire with fury.
Turning her around, I rip off the blindfold and hastily pull the mask back over my jaw and throat. Summer’s hands are pressed to the wall, the hourglass shape of her curves beckoning me, my lust mingling with my ire. But the second my eyes dip to memorize the naked view of her ass, I see the blood again.
Gripping her bicep, I spin her to face me, the stream creating a staticky curtain between us. She gapes at me in shock, and I back away, pointing down, my fist shaking in rage.
Her scared eyes jump back to mine, and she wags her hands, pleading with me anew. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know…I mean…I haven’t felt good, I’ll wash everything, I’m?—”
But I’ve already retrieved the notebook and pen, carved a question through layers and layers of paper. My wet hands grip it for her to read. Shivering, she hugs herself, standing just out of the stream.
