The couch frame creaked, and the damn thing shifted on the hardwood floor. Liam changed his pace, a slower tempo, but with more precise, shattering collisions. My fingers slipped from their hold. My body writhed as it fought between the need for the pleasure and the craving for air.
“Find another title,” he ordered, bending so that our foreheads nearly touched.
The mask—it was slipping. An inch of raw, red, puckered flesh contrasted with the white of the plastic.
My body shook as he released his hold. I took desperate breaths, trying to divert enough air to my brain to think of the answer to his riddle.
Because that was what this was. He had a name in mind, and he wanted me to find it.
Devil?A god?Both would fit, but neither captured the essence of this exchange of power.
“Master,” I whimpered as his fingers began to tighten once more.
They stopped.
The beast listened. His head cant to the side, mouth twitching as he considered the word.
“Master, please,” I begged. “Let me come.”
“Yes,” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath. “You know that I own you, Gabriella. So I’ll show you mercy. Come. Come now, my sweet little wife.”
As if they’d been waiting for his permission, the muscles of my pussy clenched around him. The spasm ripped from a place so deep inside me that I didn’t know where it came from.
My body shook.
A cry tore from my throat.
In the most exquisite torture, I shattered.
Liam fucked me through the release, not once letting up or showing restraint as I convulsed, lost to the blinding explosion of ecstasy.
Only when the noises stropped tearing my throat open, did he groan. He thrust into me. His cock twitched, emptied—filledme. I didn’t realize I had anything left inside me. But Liam’s next words drew another orgasm from me before the first had even finished.
“Mine. You’re fucking mine, little bird.”
The spots from the breath play were nothing compared to the fireworks that burst in front of me. I screamed. The sound pierced the room. The spasms were too much. I was bliss. There was only euphoria. His hands were braced on the couch, not even touching me, and yet I struggled to breathe. Did I pass out?
Or was this how it felt to be fucked by a man who I was obsessed with?
Chapter 21 – Liam
“Ican pay, boss.” Sweat dripped down the swallow, pudgy face. “You just gotta give me more time, kay?”
I scraped my finger over the top of the glass case. There were necklaces, bracelets, earrings—all of them pretty. Nothing exquisite. My gaze scanned the collection, searching for the perfect item.
Maybe if I give her something, she’ll smile.
But it had to be perfect. Not pawned jewelry from a department store.
“Darrel, I’m not in the business of extensions.” I flattened my fingers over the display. Guns lined the back wall. Basic weapons that could be found in any sporting goods store.
“But I told your boys last week, didn’t I?” He stank of desperation and cheesy chips. The orange powder stained under his nails, which were long and cracked with hangnails scabbed around the edges. “I told ‘em I just needed to move a little product.”
“Oh?” I leaned on the display case, towering over the pawnbroker. “And justwhowere you making deals with?”
His round face turned bright red.
Busted.
