My heart threatens to beat out of my chest it’s hammering so hard, and my voice is a hoarse croak when I reply, “What do I need?”
He chuckles that deep, distorted sound again. “Me. I’m what you need, in every conceivable way.”
With that, he shoves me forward until I’m against the wall, my cheek scraping against the rough brick before he surrounds me once more.
“You need me to make you feel alive,” he mutters, and his hands grab my hips, squeezing them, once, twice, three times before one hand releases and moves around to the front of my jeans.
“You need me to make your fantasies become a reality,” he says as he undoes my zip, and while I make no move to stop him, I don’t want to make this easy for him, either.
I struggle against him, but his grip on my hip manages to keep me in place.
I could struggle harder; I could fight him off if I wanted to. I should call for help or attempt to run.
But I don’t do any of that.
Why? Because deep down, there’s a dark, depraved part of me that knows he’s right.
Ilikethis.
And that’s the most horrifying part of it all.
He’s right, about everything.
“You need me to be the bad guy.” His words sound different and are barely audible as his hand slides down and his fingers find my clit while there’s a simultaneous sudden sharp pain to my shoulder. It takes me a moment to realize that he bit me, and it takes me even longer to realize the reason his words sounded different is because he must have removed the lower part of his mask, so that was his real voice without the modulator.
“What makes you so sure this is what I want?” I ask with a gasp as he circles my clit just right and he chuckles darkly.
“You may be the good girl to the public,little Aston, but we both know that’s not who you really are.”
The name the media uses for me is said mockingly, and I shudder. I’ve always hated that damn nickname, but I’d still like to know why this guy thinks he knows anything about me at all.
Who is he, really?
I don’t get to voice my thoughts because his movements quicken, and I moan as pleasure shoots through me. God, why is this so freaking hot?
I should be running and screaming, not griding against his hand and moaning.
“All I want to do is give you everything you’ve ever wanted and more, is that such a bad thing? Is that so horrifying that you had to block me?” he grunts, his tone filled with anger. “I’mgonna let you in on a little secret, Gracie. Everything I’ve ever done; I’ve done for you. Every decision I’ve ever made, it’s been made with you at the forefront of my mind. No one knows you like I do. No one cares for you like I do.” He pinches my clit, and it sends me closer the edge. “No one knows how much of a greedy little thing you are, do they? No… only me.”
His voice… it sounds so damn familiar, yet different at the same time. I’ve heard it before, I’m sure I have, but the answer to who he is, is too far away from me, like his identity is just a little too far out of reach and the pleasure he’s giving me is too distracting for me to fully focus on it.
I whimper, unable to stop the sound from leaving my lips and he groans before pushing his body further against mine. His hard length digs into the base of my back and that’s it; I can’t hold it off any longer.
My orgasm takes over, darkening my vision and pulling a long, drawn-out moan from me as I come almost harder than ever.
Almost, because nothing can compare to that night in the club, but this is a close second.
The only reason I’m still standing is because of the hold he has on me. If it wasn’t for his tight grip, I would probably be a puddle at his feet.
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers reverently, and it snaps me back to reality.
Shame washes over me, dousing out every last drop of pleasure I was feeling as I’m faced with the cold, hard truth.
I let it happen. I didn’t even try to stop him. I just let him push me up against the wall and take what he wanted from me.
Well… that’s not exactly true.
He didn’ttakeanything, hegave.
