I obey, expectation making my blood zing in my veins. My eardrums buzz. I bunch the silk bedsheets in my hands when Ray slides the thick dildo inside my sex. The smooth silicon massages all my sensitive spots and I moan.
“Better than me, pet?” Ray teases, kissing my neck, the heat of his chest pressed against my back.
“No, sir. Nothing is,” I reply in the best submissive tone I can muster. But each word is true.
His fingers hold my chin as his lips claim mine in a sizzling kiss. His tongue dances around mine. “You say stuff like this and I want to own you, mark you as mine forever,” he growls as he withdraws.
His baby-blue eyes sparkle with a dark, possessive light that calls to my wicked side.
“Me too.” I breathe. “I want you to have me whichever way you want. I’m yours.”
He nods, once, as if he doesn’t trust his voice to speak. He presses a button on the dildo, turning it on. My overstimulated flesh responds in kind, triggering another orgasm. Trembling from head to toe, I return to the position he demanded of me.
Ray rubs his bare cock along my stuffed sex, coating himself in my pleasure. The head of his cock presses against my asshole for a hot second before breaching it. I relax my body to allow his thick erection in. His grunts mix with mine as he inches in. His fingers burrow into my hips, his body covers mine, and his lips latch onto my shoulder.
I begin to see stars behind my closed eyelids when his balls hit my ass. Ray’s all in while the rubber cock keeps buzzing inside my pussy. “God, that’s hot!” I whimper.
“You’re so perfect. You fit me like a fucking glove.”
He sets a lazy rhythm to his hips, pushing out of me and thrusting inside again. At the same time, he increases the speed of the dildo. My mind shatters as wave after wave of pleasure flood my body. I give up any notion of control, allowing Ray to own every inch of me. I willingly become a passenger in this act. My flesh vibrates under his command. My mind succumbs to the kind of oblivion only Ray manages to give me.
After countless orgasms, this becomes almost an out-of-body experience for me. The room fills with the sound of our ragged breaths, the creak of the bed beneath us, and the thud of our bodies slamming against each other. Our lovemaking is raw, real, and utterly consuming, as if the rest of the world has fallen away, leaving only us, suspended in this moment, forever.
But even forever must come to an end when you’re role-playing. When he is done, Ray collapses against me, our bodies slick with sweat, my heart still racing. For a little while, we just lie there, tangled together. Then, he smooches my lips, slides the dildo out of me and gets out of the bed. I grin watching him stroll to the bathroom. This ritual of Ray cleaning me up warms my chest in a way that should frighten me. It’s too damn cute; therefore, it’s too damn dangerous. I shouldn’t allow myself illusions about what this means to Ray. I shouldn’t create expectations either. Only for tonight, I’ll give myself some leeway and enjoy the ride.
I’m still smiling when he climbs back in bed. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close, and I let myself sink into the warmth of his embrace. His lips press against my temple, a gesture so tender it nearly undoes me.
“Stay,” he commands, his husky voice barely audible.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” I confess without hesitation.
His hand tightens on my hip, and I feel the tension in his body ease, the sound of his heartbeat lulling me back to sleep. As I drift off, I can’t help but wonder what this means—whatwemean. I’m falling for him, that much is clear. But what happens when morning comes? When the shadows of his world—and mine—come creeping back in?
For now, I push the thoughts away, letting myself have this moment, this fleeting sense of peace. Tonight, it’s enough.
16
RAY
The afternoon light streams through the massive living room windows, slicing through the quiet like a blade. The house is still, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and the muffled hum of the heater. I sit on the edge of the couch, my phone in hand, staring at the screen like it might explode.
I shouldn’t text her. I should be scouring the dark web for clues about Dracul, or at least pretending to work. But instead, I’ve spent the past half hour scrolling through the last picture she sent me—just a casual selfie of her in her kitchen, grinning like she didn’t just turn my life upside down. Her hair is loose, fire-red against her pale skin, and her eyes... God, those green eyes. They’re burned into my brain, haunting and hypnotic.
I type out a message, then delete it. Then another. Finally, I settle on something ridiculous—a meme I found about Christmas trees and tangled lights—and hit send before I can second-guess myself again.
My phone buzzes a minute later, and I nearly drop it in my haste to see her reply.
Sophia:“Aren’t you supposed to be busy doing mafia stuff? Or is sending me memes your new side hustle?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. She’s relentless, always teasing, always pushing just enough to keep me on my toes.
Me:“Multitasking, sweetheart. I’m very efficient.”
Her response comes almost immediately, and I can picture her smirking as she types.
Sophia:“Efficient, huh? I’m impressed.”
I lean back on the couch, a rare smile tugging at my lips. For a moment, it’s easy to forget everything else—easy to forget the weight of the shadows that cling to me, the life I’ve tried so hard to leave behind. With her, it feels like the world narrows to just this—this banter, this connection. But it’s a dangerous illusion.
