Page 48 of Shadowed With Fear

When he finally brushes gently against my clit, it’s not his fingers. The cold metal wrapped around his fingers cause me to gasp trailing into a moan. My hips lift toward him.

“More. Please, I need more. That felt so good,” I whimper.

He tuts, tilting his head. “Like this?” He does it again, harder, but agonizingly slow. I feel each bump of his knuckles tucked into each ring. It’s fucking amazing, and horrible, and taunting. It’s so much and not enough.

“Please, Shadow. Please. I want you inside me. I need to feel you inside me.”

“I’m not going to be inside of you, Dahlia. Not until your greedy little pussy sucks my fingers inside from how badly you want me.” I could hear the smile hidden in his voice from behind the mask. Shadow loomed over me, the picture of someone’s worst nightmare, but my darkest fantasy came to life. There was nothing I could do but submit to my own desires. Want poured from me building higher and higher. A whimper escaped my lips.

“Oh. What’s wrong, sweet girl? You had lots to say earlier. What was it? You could make yourself feel better than I can. Tell me. Use your words.”

I groaned. How am I supposed to speak when I can’t even form a single thought?

“God–”

Thwack!

My eyes widen in surprise as the sting settles deep into my thigh.

He smacked me?!

And it felt fucking fantastic. A burn that spreads across my thigh, over my whole body, settling in my core. I’m so wet I can feel my arousal dripping from my center.

“No, little flower. God hasn’t been here for a long time. Do you know who you should be praying to?”

I shake my head with another moan. His fucking fingers are sinful. A taunting tease over my clit.

“I’m the one that has turned such a fiercely strong woman into a whimpering wet mess. Isn’t that right, baby?”

My legs have begun to tremble. Each breath is a shaky inhale.

Thwack! Thwack!

I cry out, gripping the sheets tighter with my fists. My pussy clenches around nothing. The ache is almost painful now.

“Words, Dahlia.”

“Fuck, yes. Yes.” I mumble the word over and over until it’s nearly incoherent.

“Who makes you feel this fucking good, little flower?” Two fingers glide across my clit and begin circling my entrance. The cool metal of his brass knuckles is a stark contrast to the heat of my flesh.

“You.” I moan my head falling back.

“Again.” He moves to lean over me, watching my face as his fingers finally enter me. My body reacts with a jolt, my walls grasping at his fingers.

“Fuuuck,” I groan, “You. You. You.” I babble in a hushed tone. The only noises in the room are our heavy breathing and the wet sounds of him entering me, slowly, torturously.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice deepened to a growl. It’s guttural, as if he is an animal begging to be uncaged. My Shadow is just as affected as I am.

“I make you feel this way, Dahlia. You will say my name. I made you into a wanton little whore, and it’s fucking magnificent. My gorgeous girl,” he grips my throat, his thumb running along my jaw, “So beautiful. All for me. I bet you’re a sight to behold when you cum. Aren’t you, baby? All flushed, wet, gasping, and screaming. Do you want to cum, little flower?”

My head bobs up and down as my moans turn into pleas of “you” and “more” to “yes” and “please”.

“Look at me, Dahlia,” he whispers.

My eyes float to him. Dressed in all black, a mask staring into me lifeless, but I have never felt safer.

My walls clench around his fingers again. I shouldn’t be turned on by the mask as much as I am. I should be screaming.