Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Finally, he speaks, breaking the dense silence.
“What the fuck did you want out of this, Hanna?” He groans in my ear as the plastic of the mask slides against my cheek.
“I just wanted you back,” I admit on a whimper.
“You fucking have me. You came here and touched other men, Hanna. Your hand touched people who aren’t me.” He takes his gun and drags it down my arm. The cool metal feels almost alive against my heated skin.
“You needed me to remind you of how it was,” I explain.
“You didn’t need to do that. You had something more sinister in mind. If you wanted me to fuck you like a slut, you could have asked. No, you wanted to make me jealous. To rile me up. Which one do you want?”
“What do you mean?” I’m entangled in need, and I can’t think straight.
“Don’t play stupid games, Hanna. You crossed my threshold today. Do you just want me to take you home and fuck you deep and hard until your eyes cross? Or do you want me to take you in every fucking room of this house and punish you for fucking with my possession?”
Not only does he have me in a chokehold, but his words do as well. Did I just want to respark the way he used to fuck me? Or also the way he used to treat me like I was his possession and the only woman in the world? Maybe I didn’t realize how much of us I was missing and just what between us was broken.
“I want the second. Punish me, Theo. Never stop punishing me.”
“Bad fucking puppet. Bend over.” He releases my throat and spins me around. Grabbing the nape of my neck, he pushes me down until my stomach touches my thighs and I can’t bend any farther. “You know I’m going to find every fucking man who was in this room tonight, right?”
Using what I imagine is the barrel of his gun, he slides it under my dress and uses it to lift the skirt, exposing my lace-covered cunt. I shiver when a gust of cool air hits my core, where my panties are soaked with need.
“And what will you do?”
He chuckles sinisterly. “Maybe I should remove the flesh that now has your touch stained.”
I swallow. I know Theo, and he would do that. He is that crazy. Mad. And I know I will have to beg him and use my body as a weapon to convince him to forgive me and not hunt each poor soul down. Tempting him was fine, but not at the expense of any other casualties but my pussy.
“Why don’t you stop talking about what you can do to everyone else and show me what you can do to me?” I sass him, and that gets me a hard slap. He brings it down fast, and it’s lethal to the paleness of my skin. The reverberating sting lasts long after his hand is gone.
“You were wrong for this, Hanna. This is my fucking cunt, and you know I hold the control here.”
“And you’ve always told me I have the power. So, what now?” I look over my shoulder at him and see he lifted the mask from his face but left it atop his head. But the skeleton makeup is still intact, and there is something so sexy about him in a mask or paint. He is like the phantom of my wildest desires.
“You will do as I say, let me have you the way I want and do to you the things I know you fucking need, puppet.” He pauses, and I feel his finger slide under my panties and rub against my sensitive lips. “So greedy. So swollen. Fucking soaked.” With that, he yanks the fabric, and it all but disintegrates.
“Theo. Please.”
“Beg, beg so fucking loud.” He slaps my ass again, this time leaving a mark that won’t fade in hours but days.
“Please,” I whimper. I need the first time to simply be him using me and punishing me. I need the first time to be him selfishly emptying into me.
“I think you deserve a new marking, Hanna. You clearly need a fucking reminder.”
My eyes widen. What does he mean? I start to stand as I let out a rushed version of his name, but his hand at my nape keeps me positioned where I am, paralyzed.
“Theo, what are you doing?” I holler and then listen closely, ever so closely, to try to hear any sound other than the music from the other rooms. I hear the fabric of his jeans move a bit, and a shuffling sound is one I can’t quite make out, but the next sound—that sound will always be one I recognize. It’s etched into my memory just as permanently as the sharpened edge of the blade etched his initial into my thigh. It was the night Theo truly became mine. And I became his.