Page 87 of Twilight Mask

“You are mine now, little demon,” he says, staring at me, in nothing but his mask. His dick is still hard and thick. I crawl to him like a good girl and take it in my mouth. I taste his cum and my pussy, and I suck him nice and slow. He gets even harder between my lips. “I am going to play so many games with you,” he whispers. “I haven’t even begun to imagine what I can do to you. But I promise, you’ll hurt, and you’ll come, and you’ll want more.”

I moan as I suck him. I go faster, lips sliding up and down his shaft, tongue rolling around his tip, until he pulls me back by the chain. I gasp and he turns me around, then he fills me from behind. I grind into him.

“Greedy girl,” he growls, stroking in slow, agonizing thrusts, sending waves of bliss down my spine. “Your messy little pussy feels so fucking good wrapped around my dick. I’ll fill you with your own spit and let it mix with my cum.”

“Yes, please, Jackal,” I moan, fingers digging into the sheets as his words send my body into overdrive.

“You are mine, as much as I want you, and, baby, I want you more than you can handle.”

“Show me,” I plead, and he fucks me until I come screaming on his cock. “Oh, god, I’m a messy, needy girl,” I whisper as he comes too. He leaves me on the bed, pacing around it like he’s thinking about what to do to me, but I’m in a fuck coma, barely able to think. “Jackal? Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

“When you’re done with me, can you take me home?”

He stops pacing and tilts his head. “Where is home to you?”

I can’t help the big, stupid smile on my face. “Marco’s place. Then eventually somewhere else.”

“Since you’ve been such a good girl already, I’ll give you what you want. But I’m not done yet.”

“Good.” I stretch like a cat, smiling like a maniac. “I didn’t expect anything less.”

Chapter 43

Laura

Iline up my chisel and strike the end with my hammer. A chunk of marble falls away. The low hum of the industrial fan is the soundtrack to my brain. There’s no thought: just warm. My hands do what my hands have always done as I move around my basement studio, breaking stone, working on a new shape.

I spot him watching out of the corner of my eye. It’s impossible to hear anyone come down those obscenely expensive reinforced steps. When we told the contractors what we needed, one of them joked about murdering people, and I only smiled sweetly and told him that my recreational hobbies were none of his business. They didn’t ask questions after that.

“It’s coming along,” Marco says, drifting over. He looks tired, which isn’t a surprise. The motorcycle gangs have been keeping him busy lately with a series of elaborate and increasingly complicated hacking jobs. “Are you happy?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I admit, pushing up my respirator. “I’ve never done anything like it before.”

He nods slowly, staring at the shape. “It’s beautiful, Laura, and you’re not even done yet.”

I try not to smile, but I can’t help it. I don’t need his approval, but it sure as hell makes me feel good. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it though.” He walks over and casually puts a hand on my ass. “Where’d you get the idea for it?”

“Seriously? Come on, you know.”

He tilts his head side to side. “It’s a mask. A snake mask.” He glances at me. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

I shrug a little, feeling guilty, but not really. I’ve had the image of a snake mask in my head ever since the attack on the gallery opening six months ago, and I’m finally getting it out of my head.

“This is the first non-body part I’ve made. I guess it’s a way to forget about what happened.”

“That was Valentina. You know that, right?”

“You told me before, but still.” I lean into him. “You haven’t heard from her, have you?”

His expression clouds over. Valentina is a very sore topic for him. She definitely survived the attack—we would’ve heard if the daughter of Luciano Santoro ended up dead—but he hasn’t been in contact with her, at least not as far as I know.

“I tried asking Ronan about her, but he just called me a traitorous cocksucker and hung up. I figure I won’t get much better from any of the others.”

“I’m sorry.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. “You did what you had to do. You did it for me.”

---