I tried to catch his eyes, but it was difficult between the mask and the low light of the room, the black holes staring back at me only adding to my excitement. The drip of blood from the holes was jarring against the white plastic material, drawing my gaze and holding it there.
Would Cameo actually cut me? Would my blood look like that? Crimson against a sea of milky white.
I should've been afraid. I should've been saying no.
But I didn't want to, if anything, all I wanted was to pull Cameo in. To kiss him while he covered me in cuts that claimed me as his.
The cool bite of the blade touched my neck, making me gasp and instinctually pull away.
“Don’t move,” he snapped quickly, voice low and dangerous. “If you do, you could get hurt. Do you understand?”
I went to nod, before I remembered that was exactly what I was warned against.
“Yes," I whispered, the unmistakable tremble of arousal in the word.
He didn’t move. “Do you trust me?”
“I do.” I wasn’t sure why I did. Any normal person would've likely said no, given he'd broken into my apartment, in a mask with a knife.
But some unspoken part of me knew that he wouldn't hurt me. Not more than I liked.
He hummed in approval.
The blade drew across the side of my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut, sure I was going to get cut, until I realized nothing was happening. No pain. No blood. Just... cool metal.
I realized, with something that felt a little bit too much like disappointment for me to be comfortable, that it must've been the blunt side.
“Just checking,” Cameo said with an air of cheeky teasing that was downright playful. I could almost picture him smiling behind the mask.
He pulled the blade away, lifting himself off of me with a chuckle to collect my discarded dress. "Roll over."
I was quick to comply, rolling to sit on the edge of the bed with my nipples hardening in the cool air of the room. I looked up at the alpha towering over me, the knife glinting in his hand with excitement pulsing through my center.
"Good girl," the alpha purred, using his booted foot to kick my legs wide.
My knees spread, and his foot pressed against my cunt. Wetness had already soaked my panties, and the cool leather of his shoe touching against me was sosensitivethat I couldn't hold back the pathetic moan that followed the rough treatment.
"Fuck..."
“You act like you’re scared, but your pheromones tell me exactly how you actually feel, tesoro."
His foot flexed, pushing the tip of his shoe against my clit, and it took every scrap of self control that I had to stop myself from grinding into his boot right there.
I looked up at him, whimpering and moaning as I waited for him to tell me what he wanted.
But my alpha possessed a level of patience that I didn't. For a while he didn’t say anything, just continued to apply pressure, soft enough that it wasn't any real relief.
"Put this on," he ordered, the dress landing beside my hand on the mattress.
I scrambled to listen, unzipping the side and pulling it over my head to let it fall bunched at my waist.
Cameo helped me with the zipper, even his soft domestic touches feeling like a demand.
The alpha’s cock twitched against the front of his black pants as I adjusted my chest, making sure they were sitting correctly in the low cut top, his sizable length drawing my eyes as often as the knife or the mask.
To say I wanted him was an understatement. Cameo was a bit like the devil. A promise for freedom tied into the knowledge that he was decidedly wrong—dark.
And I craved to fall right into the depths of hell with him.
