Page 39 of Twilight Mask

“One last job, baby.” I dip my fingers down inside her and she purrs before I bring them to her lips. “Suck them clean.”

She doesn’t even hesitate. I nearly come right then and there in my pants, and it’s only through immense self-control that I manage not to.

When she’s done, I kiss her body again, but this time lovingly. I praise her too, make sure she knows how good she did and how proud of her I am, and how fucking beautiful she is. I put her panties back on, as useless as they may be, and sit her up. I untie her hands and put her top on, once again careful not to mess up the blindfold.

She stretches her arms and rolls out her wrists. “Do you have your mask on?”

“Not yet.” I pick it up from the ground. “You want to peek, don’t you?”

“Would it ruin anything if I admitted that I do?”

“No, I don’t think so. But we both know the second you destroy the mystery is the second the game isn’t fun anymore.”

She licks her lips and looks like she comes to a decision. “Let me touch your face at least.”

I watch her, not sure what to make of that. But then I kneel down, take one of her hands, and raise it to my cheek.

She softly strokes my face with the tips of her fingers, tracing lines along my jaw, down my nose, across my eyes. It’s strange, and I thought it wouldn’t feel like anything, but it’s one of the most intimate experiences I’ve ever had. There’s no way she can know who I am from touching me like this, but I also feel very exposed.

“You like hiding behind the mask,” she says when she’s done.

“I do,” I admit. “I honestly didn’t know that about myself.”

“Why do you think that is?”

I sit down beside her. She’s still got the blindfold on, so I pull my mask down to cover my face and release her. She blinks at the bright light and glances at me, smiling like she’s seeing me for the first time.

I’m not sure I can really explain how I feel about the anonymity of the mask. Keeping my real identity from her is important—I’m trying to build an alliance against her family after all and I was an important Capo in the mafia that tried to destroy her brothers—but it’s more than that.

“When I have it on, I can be exactly who I am. I don’t have to worry about anything but what feels good. Sometimes I think I’m strange and broken, but when we’re together, it’s like…” I trail off, trying to find words.

But she answers for me. “It’s like you’re more yourself than when you’re at home.”

“That’s right.” I look at her, tilting my head to see her better through the narrow eye slits. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”

“My family thinks I’m weird.” She draws her knees to her chest and hugs herself. “I don’t blame them. I really am weird. And not just because of what happened to me, but I think I was born this way, you know? I like dark things. Blood doesn’t bother me. Pain doesn’t really bother me, not in the same way it bothers other people. I can concentrate on sculpting for hours and hours, and sometimes I even forget to eat for days at a time because I’m so busy working. I know it’s not normal or healthy, but it’s who I am. And I guess I don’t feel like I need to hide any of that with you.”

I reach out and touch her cheek. “You don’t,” I whisper, and a jolt of fear runs through my guts as I look at her.

This is supposed to be about the game. Not exactly sex—but sex is a part of it. The game is control, it’s pushing boundaries and limits. The game is more than just getting off.

But this right here, talking about how we feel, this is new, and I really like it.

Which is terrifying. That, combined with how obsessed I am with surveilling her, make me wonder if I’m starting to want more than playtime.

That’s not possible. She’s Laura Bianco. She’s everything I hate. Rich, spoiled, powerful, member of a family that actively tried to kill me not too long ago.

And yet here I am, wanting to know everything about her.

I push to my feet. This is going too far and I have to put a stop to it. She looks surprised as I walk over to the two discarded boxes and pick them up.

“You’re leaving?” The disappointment in her voice breaks my heart.

“The game’s over, little demon.” I don’t look at her as I say it.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She stares down at the floor. “It was a fun game, too.”

“We’ll play again.”

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