A year of nightmares is apparently nothing in the face of one orgasm, because the second he mentionsdoinganything to me, my blood starts to buzz in my veins. Warm tension settles between my legs, and with each pump that propels me forward, I can feel the slickness dripping out of me.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, so much closer than I’d thought. “You’re such a little slut for me. I can smell you from here.”
I pump my arms, willing my legs faster. I can hear the want in his voice, the strained quality that tells me he’s likely as rock hard as I am wet.
I’m not going to make it easy for him.
If he wants me, he’s going to have to catch me.
I throw my head back, laughing into the night. Adrenaline pumps through me, though I’m still unsure if I am scared or aroused, though the answer is likely both.
Maybe he’ll hurt me when he catches me, but in my bones, I know that is nothing new. It's the possibility that hewon’tthat really drives me forward. That maybe tonight, like last night, he’ll call me a good girl and let me come.
“Do you know what running does to me, Princess? What it does tomonsters?”he growls out the last word, leaving no question that it’s true. “If only you’d stayed, perhaps you could have been my good girl…”
Disappointment makes me stumble, but I press on.
“But only bratty little sluts run from their monster.”
Part of me wants to stop and give him a piece of my mind, because if he didn’t want me to run, maybe he shouldn’t be fuckingscaringme. Then again, that would only prove him right. It’s peak brat behavior.
“Lucky for you—” He’s close enough that his exhale caresses my ear. “I like punishing you."
Steel arms wrap around my middle and lift me from the ground. I scream, thrashing my legs. I don’t know what kind of punishment he’s going to exact now that he’s got me, but there’s no way I’ll make it easy for him. My feet impact his shins as he takes us to the ground, flipping me so that I’m on my back. He hovers over me, boxing me in.
His hand wraps around my neck. I still, submitting in the wake of his gentle threat.
Up close, I can see that he’s still wearing the mask, though I still have no idea which of the red openings are for his eyes. His tongue, darting from his mouth to lick his lips, is a bright, bloody red.
“You’re even dressed like a little slut,” he observes, taking in my naked form. Squeezing my neck once, he moves his hand to toy with my nipple.
Each movement of his thumb shoots straight to my clit, and I press up into him, begging for more, for friction, for whatever he’ll give me.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Princess.” He tsks. “Is that all you can say? I think you can do better.” The moonlight flashes off his fangs as he smiles. “Tell me what you want.”
“You! Anything! Please!” I gasp, because no matter how I move my hips, he skirts away from where I need him most.
“I don’t know that you deserve me, Princess… you ran from your monster.” He leans down, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and gently, surgically, pierces the inside of my lip with his fangs. The iron-y tang of my blood floods my mouth, far too much for such a small prick. He soothes the pain away with a swipe of his tongue and kisses me, the swirl of my blood dancing between us. He kisses me breathless, senseless, consuming every shred of dignity and shame I have until I’m a writhing mess beneath him.
Breaking our kiss, he pulls back and wipes my blood from his bottom lip. “If you want me, you’re going to have to show me.” To emphasize his words, he bucks his hips so that I can just feel the tantalizing brush of his pants ghost over my pussy. “Show me, Princess, how bad you want your scary monster to fuck you.”
All at once, he isn’t moving away from me. I don’t need to chase sensation, because the hard bar of his cock has settled between my thighs. I keen out my relief, grinding up into him. I could cry at how good he feels. The soft texture of his pants provides little resistance, especially once it’s smeared with my wetness.
He lowers his head and licks up the side of my neck, growling in my ear, “What a desperate little slut you are for me.”
His hips meet my every move, rocking into me until I can hardly think. My head spins and my pussy tingles. With every thrust, I clamp down on nothing, achingly aware of howemptyI am.
“Please,” I gasp.
“Words, Princess. You should know by now,” he says, sucking on my neck.
How does he expect me to speak when he’s driving every coherent thought from my mind?
“I need—” I gasp.
“What was that?” He pulls back and smiles down at me, smug. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
