Page 145 of Shadows in Bloom

The footsteps outside the door retreat and relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived. Letting go of my hip and fisting my sweaty hair, Cruz pulls out to the tip, then slams back inside me. The dresser knocks against the wall, and I shiver when I glance at the oval mirror mounted before us, seeing him behind me—the jigsaw mask, the thundering pulse in his throat, the beading sweat on his shoulders, and his flexing muscles. He’s a nightmare.

I never want to wake up.

“Fuck, you take me so well, Marshall.” His voice is breathy beneath the mask. Breathy and husky. “I always knew you were made for me.”

I groan as my scalp prickles with a delicious sting from his tight grip.

“I like seeing you come apart for me, Professor.”

The dresser knocks harder against the wall, and the thought of being discovered by his father—my best friend—hardens my dick to the point of pain. Fisting my aching length with a quivering hand, my breaths gust against Cruz’s hand.

I’ve never known pleasure like this.

My thighs shake, my eyes roll, and my scalp burns.

I need more.

“Cruz,” I moan, his name muffled.

“That’s it,” he praises, burying himself to the hilt and grinding deep, before pulling out and rubbing the crown over my gaping exit. “You want me to fill this hole with cum?”

I nod, watching him in the mirror.

Staring back at me from beneath the mask, his eyes burn with a fire I feel in my core. Easing his grip on my damp hair, he slides his hand down to grip my nape and then slams my cheek against the dresser. I gasp, trembling at the act of violence.

Fuck, I want more.

“Be good for me, Marshall, and paint this dull dresser in cum, will you?” He enters me again in a slow tease, a deep slide of his thick cock that has me trembling like a leaf.

Groaning, I feel my dick twitch in my hand right before cum erupts over the mahogany wood. Cruz isn’t far behind. He slams into me harder and faster, and the dresser crashes against the wall until he finally stills. His dick pulses inside me, my cheek still pressed against the hard surface, but I don’t dare lift my head and face the reality of my actions. I let a monster devour me and feast on my essence until there’s nothing left but insanity.

“Fuck,” he breathes as the mask falls to the floor. His warm lips descend on my back, his tongue swirling over each vertebra, higher and higher. He pauses between my shoulder blades, and I hold my breath, sensing the shift in the air as he whispers, “I love?—”

The door crashes open in a cloud of broken wood and shouts. It all happens so fast. One moment, I’m coming down from my high, and the next, armed officers storm the room and handcuff Cruz while he stares at me, his bed hair falling over his eyes. He’s still naked, and sweat glistens on his broad chest. They lead him outside while reading him his rights, but all I can see is his broken father in the doorway.

Karl watches them leave before his shuttered gaze slowly skates back in my direction, and he fists his hands at his sides. He stares right through me as though he never knew me, and my heart splinters when he asks, “Who are you?”

I’ve never felt so naked or ashamed. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, yet here I am, covering my softening dick with my hands, with the proof of his son’s bruising touch on my skin. I open my mouth to reply, but he beats me to it.

“You fucked my son.”

I want to offer excuses, to erase the pain in his eyes, but all I can do is drop my gaze to the floor. The mask taunts me with its sinister smile that turns the fading desire to ice.

That’s the problem with the darkness—sooner or later, dawn arrives to chase the shadows away.

Who are we when faced with the truth of ourselves?

“You fucked my son!”

Flinching, I take the blow like a punch to my heart.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, kicking the mask under the dresser.

“You’re sorry?”

I deserve the anger lacing his voice. I even welcome it.

He stares at the empty hallway, the seconds extending into minutes. The distance between us widens. Officers enter and exit the room. I’m handed clothes and told to come to the station for a witness statement. I’m numb as I collect the mask off the floor and hide it in a piece of clothing. Some confused part of me wants to protect Cruz, even now, as I wait for my childhood friend to talk. If anyone finds it, it’s game over.

---