Page 82 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“I am yours to do with as you wish… Sir.” If he doesn’t want me to call him Daddy, then I’ll stop. At this moment, I would do anything to ease his pain.

“Get up. We’re not doing this.”

“You gave me two options, Sir… go to bed or get in the position. I am here for your pleasure. Do with me as you wish.”

He slams the refrigerator door, startling me as we’re plunged into darkness. “Open your mouth.” He doesn’t sound like himself, but I’m not afraid. Pierce let me lean into my darkest desires. For him, I can willingly walk into the shadows.

I do as I’m told.

“Clasp your hands at the small of your back while I fuck your pretty little mouth.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The moment my hands are behind my back where I can’t touch him, he grabs me by my hair and thrusts his cock into my mouth, swearing as I take every hard inch of him, “Fucking hell.”

There’s no question of my pleasure, and a part of me revels in it. I want him to use me to chase his demons away—to be his light in the darkness.

Chapter 17

PIERCE

The nightmares won’t stop, no matter how hard I push back. I exhaust myself at work. Spend every spare hour at the club with Freya. Fall into my bed, alone, only to wake up in a cold sweat night after night.

Freya hasn’t forced any further conversation, and it’s exactly what I need. She relishes our lessons, and I’m going back to the list I had her complete at the beginning of her training. I want her to be sure of her choice when it comes to me. I need her to pick me because I’m what she wants rather than because she’s never tried anything else.

She’s such a good little girl for me, every night, on her knees or shackled to the St. Andrew’s cross. She takes it hard and fast or torturously slow, lapping up every ounce of pleasure and pain I can give.

It kills me not to have her sleep at my place because watching her give in to sleep after a long night in the club is as close to heaven as I think I’ll ever get. I’m enchanted by how angelic she is in slumber, but until I get these nightmares under control, I don’t want to risk hurting her or letting her see how fucked up I truly am. I can’t see her look at me the way she did that night. There was pity in her eyes and an understanding that terrified me to my core.

She saw me.

Today, I have Freya assisting with the surgery for one of my long-term patients, but we have an hour until we need to be in the OR. I paged her to the on-call room. We said—or she said—that we wouldn’t fall into our Dom/sub roles at work, but she sashays down the hallways of this hospital, looking too good in scrubs, and all I want to do is bring her to her knees.

She’s always had the confident swagger of a surgeon, but to see it translate to her role as my submissive is truly a thing of beauty.

The moment the door opens, I meet her hungry gaze, and before the door is locked, she’s tugging her clothes off. I quickly twist the lock into place before she reaches beneath the waistband of my scrubs and massages my cock.

“Whoa, slow down, little one.”

“I assume you called me here for sex, Sir.” Fuck, I miss her calling me Daddy, but after what I think she heard the last time we slept in the same bed, I can’t bring myself to ask for what I want.

“Have we dispelled with the pleasantries?”

“Yes.” Her statement is matter-of-fact, and I find it jarring. I know I’ve been taking more than I give lately, but it wasn’t my intention to turn Freya into a sex doll. She pushes up onto her tiptoes, capturing my lips with hers, pressing her warm, supple body against mine, reaching between us and back to my now rock-hard dick. “Where do you want to fuck me, Sir? My mouth or my pussy?” She’s so detached as she offers her body to me. It doesn’t sit well. I love that she and I have always shared more than just sex. Even that first night, I knew she was different, and we would mean more to each other.

“Freya, stop.”

“What?” She drops to her knees and frees my erection from my pants, fisting her hand around the base and flicking her tongue over the crest of my dick. Jesus, it feels so good it should be illegal, which makes it so much harder to pull away.

“Seriously, Freya, can we talk for a minute?”

“You never want to talk, D… Sir.”

My dick aches as I shove it back in my pants and hold out my hand to help her up.

She simply grabs her clothes and slips them back on without another word. She’s hurt, and it’s my fault.

“Are you prepared for surgery this afternoon?”

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