Page 33 of Monstrous Grave

A gentle touch trails along my thigh, inching closer to where the fabric of my sleeping shorts ends. My heart races as I remain bound, offered like a lamb to the gods above, awaiting a sacrifice for justice to unfold. A finger draws near my most intimate area, sending electric pulses of anticipation through me that make my breath hitch.

Incoherent words escape my lips as another touch grazes my cheek, tender yet unsettling, as if I’m something precious. A lover’s touch. The other hand slips underneath my sleeping shorts, igniting a fiery passion even as I try to resist.

My eyes adjust to the darkness, and the masked man becomes clearer, causing my blood to run cold like a bucket of ice.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” The voice is soothing, rocking me back to an endless sleep that wants to drag me down.

Viper.

He’s here, he came for me. His name echoes in my mind, a chilling reminder of how I disobeyed his command. My mind screams at me to get away as fast as possible, tendrils of fear slithering down the pit of my stomach. The other part of me—my body—yearns for his touch and craves the forbidden pleasure he offers. Wasn’t this what I wanted before when he fingered me inside the conference room? All the longing, raging gazes between us would eventually lead us down this path.

But where the fuck am I?

No matter how much I squirm, his hand stays firmly on my cheek while the other trails to my clit, applying gentle pressure. In the dim light, his eyes seem to darken, like two slits of shadows, watching me unravel beneath his touch.

Something penetrates me, bringing out pleasure like no other as I’m torn between intoxication and the nagging sense of unease. I fight against the invisible leash ensnaring me, but it’s pointless.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, it feels as though I’m tumbling over that cliff once more. My eyes spring open, my stomach and clit pulsating with conflicting desires. Instead of falling, I’m soaring toward the clouds, only to plummet when waves of immense pleasure overtake everything. Gasping for breath, I realize my mouth is pressed against a pillow, my body convulsing in euphoria. Every instinct rebels against it, yet an undeniable pull draws me toward the forbidden euphoria coursing through me. Fingers plunge inside me, finding that sweet spot with precision.

Lost in the maze of my mind, a moan betrays me as those skilled fingers curl. I try to form words, to beg him to stop, but everything is too much. In my half-conscious mind, his fingers slip deeper, plunging into me over and over. I’m engulfed in an overwhelming ecstasy, sending me into a sublime bliss.

Unwanted moans mingle with fear, intensifying the sensation. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his fingers, riding the crest of pleasure. With each tantalizing caress, he coaxes forth sensations of arousal, and I crave more of his sinful touch.

A deep, growl-like chuckle emanates from him, forcing me back into reality, but his fingers are still inside of me, and I’m teetering on the edge of surrender. With each added finger, the ecstasy consumes me completely. I try to stifle my moans, but his hand slides to my throat, squeezing. Eventually, I’m forced to release those moans wanting to tear from my throat, almost drowning out the relentless sounds of the waves outside.

He brings me to another orgasm—unyielding to the irresistible sensations overwhelming me, letting him feel me as I come undone.

I’m in a dizzy haze of not comprehending anything, ensnared in a web of desire and uncertainty as the realization crashes over me.

I just came from being fingered, all while half awake.

As I begin to wake from the surreal dream, I expect to find myself in the comfort of my bed. Yet, the sight before me is unfamiliar—a window revealing clouds outside, dark and raging with the threat of an oncoming storm.

I’m not at home.

The gentle touch against my face continues, a touch so tender it makes my heart slow down its pace as if recognizing the move, yet it’s not the contact of skin that meets mine. It’s a leather glove assaulting my senses.

“Where I am?” I mumble incoherently.

No reply. One hand glides against my thigh again, causing goosebumps to spread over my body. I can’t remember much, but I remember falling asleep in my bedroom, with only silence soothing my screaming mind.

Where the hell am I?

It’s cold in here, causing my nipples to pebble against the fabric of my shirt. Soon after, the hand grazes my sensitive buds, pinching them. I don’t want to like it, but my depraved mind does.

Panic claws at my insides, ripping me open as I fight with everything I have to get away.

“Stop fighting it, angel. I’m never letting you go now.”

His hand tightens around my throat, fingers digging into my skin. My pulse races erratically beneath his touch, a concoction of anxiety, panic, and fear blending through my veins.

No, no, no, I chant in my head, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. It can’t be him. It can’t fucking be him.

But of course it is. I defied his orders, and now I’m facing the consequences.

As my shorts slip off my legs, a warm breath brushes against my entrance, sending goosebumps all over me. I instinctively try to squirm away as the pleasure wreaks havoc on my body when I feel something meet my clit, and an involuntary moan escapes my lips.

This isn’t a dream. Viper is behind me, tongue teasing my sensitive spot. Confusion makes me struggle to differentiate between nightmare and reality because I know it’s his voice coming from behind me, pressing me toward the bed and preventing my movements.

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