He peels the mask off his face, and I close my eyes as he traces the space between my breasts with his lips before they drift to mine. “Open your mouth.”
My jaw staggers open, and his tongue floats inside. He twists it around mine, and I slide my hands around his spine as his cock presses inside me. He keeps his tongue tightly twisted around mine, stifling my ability to cry out as his cock pushes deep inside me, then retreats, deep inside me, then retreats.
It feels incredible, and I’ve never felt so ashamed and confused in my entire life. His rhythm is calm and delicate. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s making love to me, but I know that can’t be true. A small part of me wants this feeling never to end, but the other part of me wrestles with how wrong this is, how wrong all of this is, what I have done and continue to do to survive.
My mind wanders into the darkness as his tongue leaves my throat and slides along my jawline before stopping at the space between my neck and shoulder. “Contessa,” he whispers my name. “Scream for me.”
Before I have a chance to think, to comprehend the words that just left his lips, he plunges his cock inside me hard and fast. I cry out, gripping the textured flesh of his spine, digging my nails into him. The pain surging through my insides is intense andunforgiving, but my body responds to his, and my juices flood every inch of his cock.
“Scream for me,” he repeats, ramming his cock into me, forcing the top of my head into the headboard a second time.
“Mastyx!” I scream through blinding tears as hot lava spills inside of me, burning my tender flesh.
He collapses on top of me, the weight of him knocking the air from my lungs. Pain surges through my insides, but it’s not like before; it’s not like boiling soup being poured inside me, more like a slightly cooled stew—still hot but not scorching.
My stomach pulses against his, and the weight of his pubic bone against my clit, makes me want him when I shouldn’t.
I don’t want to admit to it, but the truth, no matter how hard I fight it, is more disturbing than I could ever imagine.
That…felt…fucking…amazing.
“Yes, it did, Little Sinner…”
Fuck. I once again forgot he can hear my thoughts. Damnit, I need to be careful about what I think.
I will definitely burn in hell, not only for enjoying what just happened, but also for wanting to do it again.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful tone in his voice.
Jesus, I did it again. Clear your head, Contessa. Clear your fucking head.
“Why did you ride my cock? Why did you try and please me?”
Fighting through tears and the pain surging through me, I manage to lift my head slightly so I can look at him. “Because I thought if I did something for you, then you could do something for me in return.”
“That’s not how this works, Little Sinner.” He straightens his arms and hovers over me in a plank position. “But I’m curious as to what you could want in return.”
It’s too soon. I can’t just spill out what I want from him now. “I need to get up,” I say, sitting up on my elbows and staring at him expectingly.
He climbs off of me and stands. I cup my hand over my throbbing pussy, the pain reminding me of how badly he hurts me with every encounter.
Mastyx gazes down at me for a brief moment before walking away, leaving the room. I hear the freezer door slide open and close, and he returns to his place beside me, a Bomb Pop in hand. He pulls the wrapper off the popsicle, and I open my mouth, waiting for a bite. His hand wraps around mine that’s covering my pussy, and he pulls it away.
My eyes dart to him. “What are you doing?” I squeeze my legs against his arm.
He uses his other hand to pull my legs apart. “Easing your pain.” The Bomb Pop presses inside me, and I scoot back, trying to get away from the frigid stick of ice. Mastyx’s eyes darken. “Don’t back away, Little Sinner.” He presses his hand against my chest, forcing me to lie back on the mattress.
My knees fall to their sides with little effort from his hand, and I close my eyes, moaning as he fucks me with the patriotic frozen dessert, the pain inside me slowly disappearing, and my insides grow numb.
His thumb grazes my clit, triggering an immediate response from me. I grab his hand, forcing the melted popsicle further inside me.
When there’s nothing left but the stick, Mastyx removes it and moves his head between my legs before slurping up the sweet treat mixed with my frosted pussy juices, licking me clean. I rock into his face, wanting more, needing more. I want him to taste me again.
His hands grip my thighs tight, a sharp pain penetrating my skin as his claws dig into my flesh, drawing blood. He yanks mylower body up, and I squeal right before his tongue plunges into my asshole. My eyes widen, the feeling like nothing I’ve ever felt before. His thumb circles my clit in rhythm to his tongue sliding in and out of my other hole. My breathing shallows, my body fighting to release a trapped orgasm.
I need it. I need him to make me cum more than anything in this world. The pain is both pleasurable and torturous. I reach down between my legs, move his hand aside, and press two fingers inside me, determined to set my body free. His eyes land on mine, barely open to slits, before he pulls my fingers from inside me and replaces them with his own. They move in and out of me slowly at first, then pick up speed. His thumb circles my clit, while his fingers slide in and out of me, his tongue doing the same, pressing in and out of my ass.
My orgasm is coming. I feel it racing toward the surface. Mastyx removes his fingers and tongue from my ass and cups his lips around my pussy before sucking it hard. Something sharp enters my asshole and wiggles—his clawed finger.
