With the shower massager and heat not helping, I knew I’d have to pop some pills. There was nothing, not even pain, that would keep me from this morning’s hunt.
I cut the shower off and grabbed a towel. After drying off, I exited the bathroom to grab my clothes out of the closet. I eased myself into a pair of black dress pants before adding a white button-down shirt.
Flicking my wrist, I glanced at the time on my Rolex Cosmograph. Fuck. The hunt was officially starting in just fifteen minutes. Since I didn’t want to be late, I grabbed the keycard for my room off the table by the door before stuffing it into my pants.
As I remained at the table, my fingers trailed over the sterling silver skull mask. It was one of many custom-made masks I’d commissioned over the last ten years. They not only concealed my face, but they also possessed a voice automator.
Since I had an endless supply of money to throw at very creative engineers, they worked their magic to create a time delay voice automator that completely disguised my stuttering.
Whenever I was in the mask, I became the man everyone always wanted me to be.
The man I wanted to be.
Four years after my inheritance had been stripped from me, I remained spiraling in a pit of self-loathing. It had taken one of my university buddies with a BDSM kink to see through mydespair and rescue me. When Nash introduced me to masked primal play hunts, he took me from the dark into the light. The first time I’d donned a mask that hid not only my identity but my defect, it felt like finding a missing piece of myself.
The physical strength of my outward man finally converged with my inner man. I embraced the persona of a dark predator demanding pleasure from his prey. While I was a notorious taker, I did reward with pleasure, and the women idolized me for it.
That’s how I’d come to be known as the Beast in the primal play circles on the East Coast.
Since my identity was to remain secret, I quickly put on my mask before leaving my room. As I made my way down the carpeted hallway, I couldn’t help being reminded of my family’s mansion. Of course, it hadn’t been home to me since the night my father had betrayed me.
After finishing college, I’d never returned there. Instead, I’d used some of my trust fund to buy a penthouse in an up-and-coming highrise. As soon as they’d graduated from college, Dima and then Aleksandr had joined me.
But the heavier I grew into the masked lifestyle, the more I craved my privacy. I didn’t begin to imagine what my brothers would’ve thought about me escaping into a mask for both sexual and personal gratification. So, I’d lied and bought a new place saying I was moving in with my girlfriend.
There were no girlfriends–just women who enjoyed the scene and wanted to play.
Like Gretchen–the woman whom I’d chosen last night as my sub for the weekend. The very one I’d chased down through a darkened corn maze lit only by torches. Once I’d caught her, I’d fucked her through the stalks and across the hay bales. Even though she was younger, I knew she had to be feeling the same aches and pains as I was.
As I stepped into the massive foyer, other masked men and women stood around drinking mimosas and snacking on breakfast hors d'oeuvres. With a shake of my head, I refused an offering from a waiter with a silver tray. This morning I didn’t have an appetite for food.
While the official horn would sound in five minutes, I didn’t want to wait that long. My cock already strained painfully in my slacks.
Through the crowd, my gaze landed on my sub. As if she felt my eyes on her, she jerked her gaze from her mimosa to me. Beneath the intricate mask on her face, heat bloomed in her cheeks. Immediately, she put her crystal flute down and moved through the crowd towards me.
With her eyes cast downward, she said, “You called, sir?”
Leaning over, my lips pressed against the shell of her ear. “Run,” I growled.
A shudder rippled through her body. She licked her lips before whirling around and starting out the side door. Anticipation prickled over my skin like tiny pricks from a needle. While my phone buzzed in my pocket, I focused solely on my prey.
As I started out the back door onto the expansive terrace, it began to ring. Nothing or no one was going to interrupt my singular focus of capturing my beautiful prey.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that she wanted to be caught. She continued throwing sinful looks at me over her shoulder as we started into the woods.
With my phone continuing to buzz, a growl of frustration, not pleasure echoed through me. To drown it out, I pushed myself harder to capture my prey. Her shriek echoed through the quiet woods as I dragged her over to a tree. I made quick work of jerking up the hem of her dress. I knew I would find her soaked and ready for me.
After freeing my aching cock, I thrust inside her, causing both of us to groan. As I set up a punishing rhythm, a Morse code vibrated in my pocket, causing me to freeze midthrust.
There was only one person it could be.
Dima.
And whatever he needed me for was bad.
“Bylat,” I grunted.
When I eased out of her, my prey mewled in protest. “I have an emergency call. I have to go,” I said, as I tucked my slackening cock back in my pants.
