Page 6

“That’s it,”

I said, taking advantage of the fact he was relaxing by pushing my pelvis forward. “You can take it. Just push back.”

His hips rocked backward tentatively.

“Go on. Push back. Fuck. Just a little more.”

His hips pressed flush with mine, burying my cock to the hilt in his glorious ass.

We both groaned. My head tipped back; his fell forward, his forehead dropping to his arms as his body loosened around my cock.

“There you go,”

I breathed, gripping his hips with both hands. Pulling back slightly, I thrust in slowly, watching my cock as it slid in and out of his hole. “My God, your ass is so fucking perfect.”

Tightening my hold, I meant to keep a steady pace. I meant to watch the smooth glide of my cock, in and out of his ass. But before I knew it, I was pumping a little harder, a little faster, alternating between watching the lurid show up close and in the mirrors around us. It was the hottest hookup of my life, no doubt about it.

My hips snapped against his ass harder and harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin blotted out the mysterious piano music. His beautiful dark eyes closed as his blunt nails clawed the old, painted floorboards, his muscular body the image of perfection as I drove my cock into him.

Leaning forward, I snatched his wrists and folded his arms behind his back. I stacked them on top of one another in the small of his back, keeping them locked beneath my grip. He pressed his cheek against the floor, presumably watching us in the mirrors while I railed him, hanging on to his wrists as my balls smacked against his, sending jolts of pleasure right through me. His cock bounced between his legs, slinging silvery stands of pre-cum everywhere.

“Come here,”

I said after a moment. Pulling out, I patted his thigh, taking a second to catch my breath. “Come sit on my dick. You need to see how fucking hot you are.”

I laid on my back, giving my knees a break from the unforgiving floor, and used my ruined jacket as a makeshift pillow.

He stood and straddled me, tilting his head as he met my gaze. Even without the machete, he still looked menacing. His body, all of the blood, the black skeleton jaw covering his own. Straight out of an old-school slasher film. There was a chance, however slight, that he could kill me and no one would be the wiser. After all, in the world of horror movies, I’d just committed the cardinal sin. With all of the screaming at the carnival? All of the gore? No one would even notice. Everything here was so realistic, they’d think it was part of the act. On the other hand, if you banged the one doing the killing, did that still mean you were destined to die?

All kidding aside, I suppose I should have been more frightened than I was. A sensible person would be. Then again, I wasn’t very sensible. Nor did I have much of a life to lose. If I went out of this world with my cock buried in a stranger’s gorgeous ass—or his in mine—then I’d die a happy man.

The corners of Bane’s eyes crinkled right before he turned and lowered himself onto my lap, facing away from me so we both had an unobstructed view in the mirrors. I held my cock steady at the base as he eased himself onto it. He swiveled his hips, taking it deeper like a fucking pro. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, relishing the snug heat of his body.

“Fuck. That feels so good.”

I slid my palms over his hips and up to his waist to support him. “Lean back.”

He planted his hands behind him and did as I said, hovering over me like a crab. I immediately got to work, thrusting into him from below every time he bounced his perfect ass off of my pelvis. As good as it felt, the view was even better. His cock looked even more amazing in the new position, bouncing and slapping against his thighs and abs as I fucked him. It was still rock hard and glazed at the tip, leaving streaks of shiny silver wherever his cock landed.

“You take my dick so well. Look at you. You’re so fucking hot,”

I grunted between thrusts, pleasure coiling in the pit of my stomach. Part of me wanted to keep going, to draw it out for as long as I could, but the other part would have been happy to blow my load and call it a night. I was surprised no one had walked in in the time we’d been there. Every minute that ticked by was another minute closer to getting caught, yet another salacious thrill to the whole affair.

Sitting up suddenly, he slid off of my cock and turned on his knees, his dark gaze raking over me, as hot as coals. Was he going to finally take off the mask? God I hoped so. Then again, the anonymity was really working for him. It didn’t matter if I saw his face, though. If the flyer was to be believed, he’d be gone in the morning. One night only. Might as well make it memorable, right?

Shifting between my knees, he forced my thighs apart with his hands before grabbing my hips and dragging me closer to his lap. He reached for my face, two fingers leading the way, and brushed them over my lips. As soon as my lips parted, eager for any piece of him I could have, they dove inside, twisting and sliding over my tongue. I tasted blood again. Instead of sucking harder, I let the spit gather in my mouth, giving him more to work with, which is what I assumed he wanted.

Once his fingers were dripping, he withdrew them and rubbed the saliva into my hole. Guess that means no rim job…

He arched one black eyebrow and pressed his middle finger in slowly. I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the new sensation, trying to switch my brain from “fucking”

to “being fucked.”

A second later, he seized my jaw, angling my face toward his. My eyes flew open, locking onto his narrowed gaze. Message received. I wouldn’t look away again.

He crooked the finger inside of me, unfurling the ribbon of pleasure that had been building and setting it on fire, warming me throughout my core. My lashes fluttered but stayed open as he did it again. His eyes tightened, pleased. Sliding his finger out slowly, he pushed it back in a little faster, a little harder. I gasped at the flicker of pain wrought by the rough intrusion, but then he rubbed directly where I wanted him to, soothing the feeling away with another burst of pleasure.

Pulling out again, he held his cupped hand up to my mouth. I worked up a mouthful of spit and gave it to him. Smearing the lot of it over my hole, he pressed his finger in again, adding a second on the next pass.

Unable to help it, I writhed against his hand with a moan. I reached for my dick, half expecting him to swat my hand away. Thankfully, he didn’t. I wrapped my fingers around my shaft, giving a few quick jerks to relieve the pressure.

Bane twisted his fingers deeper, an unexpected third stretching me open. I arched my back with another gasp, pushing against his hand to offset the burning pleasure. Some warning would have been nice, but I couldn’t deny how fucking sexy it was to see him take charge.

“Fuck me,”

I moaned, rocking my hips against his hand to help speed up the stretching process. It was a statement and a request all in one.

Withdrawing his fingers, he shifted closer on his knees. I hooked my hands behind my thighs and pulled my legs back, giving him more room and a better view. He rubbed his cock against my entrance, slowly, teasingly, letting the slick head press against my hole only to slip away, gliding along my crease and up to my balls.

The next time he nudged my hole with it, I nodded eagerly, adding a breathy, “I want it,”

in case he was waiting for verbal confirmation. “I want your cock.”

The smolder in his eyes was back, gleaming in the antique lights. His cock pressed against me, pushing and pushing, until it speared through the ring of muscle and plunged inside. A small cry escaped my lips, more out of surprise than pain. Still, he planted a hand in the center of my chest, pinning me to the ground as his cock sank in all the way, with no reprieve, until his balls nestled against my ass.

“Oh fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

I squeezed my eyes shut for half a heartbeat before forcing them open. My gaze darted back to his like a magnet. The hunger hadn’t abated. If anything, it looked like it had grown. Guys liked to talk a big game about “going feral”

during sex but I’d never seen it. Not until Bane. There was a wildness there that I’d never seen before. Not just with him, but with any human.

Shoving the ridiculous thought from my head, I focused on the feeling of his cock gliding in and out of my hole, how full I was when he plunged in deep, how each time he pushed against my prostrate, a little buzz rippled through me.

“Holy shit, your dick feels good,”

I sighed once we fell into a rhythm. Biting my lower lip, I jerked my cock again, doubling the pleasure. He’d shifted into a plank position, drilling me in smooth, deep strokes, driving me closer and closer to orgasm. “Fuck, yes. Use that ass. It’s yours. Fucking own me.”

His dark eyes glimmered as his brows slanted. A combination I hadn’t seen before. Oh fuck… A tiny voice inside of me screamed to get up, to run out, and never look back.

I’d barely registered the thought when he pulled his dick out and pushed away from me. Grabbing my wrist and one leg, he flipped me onto my stomach, wasting no time climbing onto my back.

“I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?”

I asked, even as I pushed my ass toward him, eager to see what was coming next.

A dark, muffled laugh rumbled from under the mask, sending a wave of goosebumps down my back and a nervous flutter through my stomach.

Slotting his cock between my checks, Bane thrust inside without warning. I yelped, fingertips scrabbling at the floor beneath them, desperate for something to hold onto as his cock stretched me mercilessly in the new position.

He leaned forward, pressing his weight against my back, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. They squeezed in from both sides as he fucked me hard and fast. The tip of his cock slammed into my prostate and my asscheeks started to sting from the rapid pounding.

“Oh fuck,”

I gasped out, fighting to keep my eyes from rolling up. I’d never felt so used in all my life, like I was there solely as an object for his pleasure. And I loved it. The harder he fucked me, the more my toes curled, the more I ached for the orgasm that was just within reach.

Through it all, my head swam and my face flushed, but he never loosened his fingers from my throat. I sought out his gaze in the mirror. The second I found it, my insides turned molten by the ravenous look. It was sexual, yes, but suddenly I realized it was about power, too, and I’d given him mine. He nuzzled the back of my head, mask and all, an oddly affectionate gesture. He never let go of my throat, though, and he never looked anywhere but my face as he dominated every inch of me.

That close, I could hear him breathing again. The muffled panting turned me on even more, despite the fact my breaths were getting harder to come by between his hand and the added weight on my back.

Every time he slammed his cock into me, my own nudged along the floor, giving it enough friction to keep it hard—the best and the worst sort of edging.

“Fuck yes,”

I moaned, not even caring if the words were intelligible. “Your cock feels incredible.”

The slap, slap, slap echoed around us, accompanied by his muffled grunts and my pathetic moaning.

“Right there. Harder. Oh God! Fuck!”

He squeezed my throat so hard my vision blurred. The ability to breathe was totally gone. In that moment, I was his, completely. He owned me. He held my very life in his hand and there was nothing I could do about it.

A blinding white light took over my field of vision as an orgasm tore through me. All I could do was gasp for a breath that wouldn’t come, letting out a single squeak instead of screaming and shattering the mirrors. Proof of our salacious pleasure erupted out of me like a volcano, spurting cum all over the floor and along my stomach. I came so hard, my cock continued to twitch even after my balls were drained.

It took me a moment to realize that I hadn’t died and gone to Heaven, nor was my body in the midst of its death throes. Instead, I was once again sucking in lungs full of oxygen, unrestricted by my masked paramour’s hand or his weight.

Bane had pulled out and rocked back on his heels, his hand shuttling up and down his cock. He threw his head back with a grunt as creamy white cum shot all over the curve of my ass. Body trembling and chest heaving in the mirror, he stroked his softening cock slowly, wringing out every drop of cum.

“That was hot,”

I said, admiring his body in the mirror as he dragged his fingers through the cum and drew an abstract design on my skin, like sticky paint.

I sat up and caught his cum-coated hand before he could stand. Opening my mouth, I sucked his fingers inside and licked them clean, savoring the flavor with a soft moan. It wasn’t everything he’d released, but it was enough to taste him. Sweet and salty, just like kettle corn.

His dark eyes watched with rapt attention as I finished up, pressing a kiss to his fingertips before releasing his hand. For the first time all night, he glanced away from me, letting his attention fall to the floor. Was he blushing under that mask? I couldn’t tell.

Still avoiding my gaze, he grabbed one of the pieces of my ruined t-shirt and wiped the remaining cum off of my ass.

“Thanks.”

As soon as he was finished, he handed me the cloth. I folded it on itself and cleaned my own mess off of my stomach. Tossing the cum rag onto my ruined jacket, I raked a hand through my sweaty, disheveled hair and blew out a breath, looking around the mirrored room. “Guess I should go find my friends.”

He didn’t say anything. Not that I expected him to. But he didn’t look at me, either, which was strange. He simply got to his feet, tugging on his jeans and his boots without a word.

Standing, I did the same, trying not to read too much into it. I happened to be closer to his discarded machete, so I stooped to retrieve it. Holding it lengthwise in my hands, I skimmed the tip of one thumb over the edge of the dirty blade. I knew it had been sharp since he’d cut my clothes off with little effort, but the razor-fine edge was still a little unexpected for something that was supposed to be a prop. And the tacky feeling from the blood was so spot on. It could have been one of the knives at work for how real it all felt.

It is real , a little voice whispered.

Brow furrowing, I rubbed my fingers together. Small, dark brownish-red flakes floated to the floor, from my hand or the machete, I wasn’t sure. A musty, metallic scent lingered. The smell of dried blood. Just like I’d tasted blood. Real blood.

It is real…

My eyes widened, darting to Bane. I backed up a step. He was already holding a machete, as bloody and rusty as the one still in my hand.

“Did you have two? This whole time?”

I asked, my voice wavering. He didn’t answer. Because of course he didn’t answer. What fun would that be? Some of Hollywood’s most classic killers didn’t talk. Michael Myers. Jason. Except, we weren’t in Hollywood and this wasn’t a movie.

Letting the weapon fall from my grasp, I thought it would vanish— hoped it would vanish—like a mirage. It clattered to the floor, as real as the masked man standing only a few feet away from me.

Sweat trickled down the side of my neck. I swiped at it, gasping when my hand came away damp with blood. My gaze flicked to the closest mirror.

“What the…?”

Red droplets snaked their way across my skin, almost as sensuous as Bane’s touch had been, caressing my chest and tickling along my abdomen like the machete. It must have rubbed off of Bane during sex and my sweat reactivated it or something. But the smell, it was too familiar. Too fresh. Too real.

The mirrors swirled around us, faster and faster. My head spun too, unable to focus on anything except Bane, standing motionless in the center of the room, his dark eyes watching me with an unsettling intensity. The alluring smolder was gone. The hunger was gone, satiated by my dumb ass. Now he truly looked like a predator and I was his fucking prey, a fly caught in the spider’s web.

The little voice came back, louder than before. Louder than it had ever been.

RUN!