Page 69 of Toy

“That can wait,” he said, wrapping his strong arms around me. He clasped them at the small of my back. “There’s a few things I’d much rather do with my woman right now.”

He gripped my chin and roughly kissed me. I could taste the blood of the men he’d killed for me on his mouth, that salty, coppery tang, but I didn’t care. I’d missed him so terribly, and in my darkest moments, I assumed neither of us were going to make it. Now that we were both here, safe and warm and so gloriously alive, I couldn’t help the hot, sticky desire from flooding my veins, drowning out any protest as I trembled with wanton need. No matter how wrong or twisted or fucked up this moment might look to anyone else, it was real, and it was ours.

When Mason pulled away, I was panting, barely able to breathe. “Mason…” I whispered, nervously licking my lips.

“Come on, baby girl. You know better than to be shy around me.” His gaze swept hungrily over my dirty dress. “Take that off.”

“It’s not you.” I squirmed in my place, averting my eyes. As much as I didn’t care about the scattered corpses of cultists and the blood spattered all over our faces, I didn’t want to strip off in front of my father’s body. He’d died with his eyes open, and it felt like he was staring right at me.

Mason followed my gaze. He removed his black jacket and draped it over my father’s bloodied face. “Better?” he asked, jaw twitching.

“Much,” I said breathlessly. “Now kiss me again.”

I’d barely finished my sentence when his mouth slammed onto mine in a kiss that made me dizzy and stripped the air from my lungs. His lips sucked on mine, teeth nipping at me too, and I moaned into his mouth and gripped his arms, trying to pull him closer.

He responded by pushing me against the wall and shoving the long skirt of my dress upward. Then he roughly spread my legs with one hand. I’d only put the dress on earlier, leaving the underwear behind, so I was completely bare beneath it. Mason let out a dark chuckle as he probed between my thighs, finding me soaked and desperate. I was so turned on that two of his fingers slid in without any resistance at all.

“You’re so fucking wet. So fucking filthy,” he muttered, smirking as I writhed beneath his touch. “There’s twelve dead guys slumped over a table right in front of you, and you still want it this fucking much.”

I let out a whimper, my body shaking with need. “Yes,” I gasped as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. “Always.”

“Who do you belong to, baby girl?” Mason asked. He gritted the words out through clenched teeth as he shoved a third finger inside me.

I moaned, already circling the edge of a climax. “You.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!” I gasped.

“Didn’t I tell you to take this off?” he said, yanking on the collar of my dress. With that, he withdrew his fingers, leaving me gasping and clenching around nothing. I’d never felt so empty, and it made me want to cry. “If you belong to me, shouldn’t you follow my orders?”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “Please…”

“If I tell you to strip, what do you say?”

“I say yes,” I said, hurriedly tearing at the buttons of the dress.

“Good girl.” Mason watched with heavily-lidded eyes as the fabric crumpled onto the floor. “And what do you say if I tell you to bend over that table so I can fuck you?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Do it. Bend over the table. Spread your legs.”

“Yes,” I whispered. On shaky legs, I stepped over to the table and planted my hands on the polished surface, arching my back so my ass was in the air. Blood seeped from a nearby pool on the table, coating my left little finger, but I didn’t care. I was too drunk with lust. Completely unrepentant.

Mason gripped my hips and buried himself to the hilt inside me, groaning as my body swallowed him up, muscles clenching around his length. “Oh!” I cried out, eyes widening at the sudden invasion. He was so big. So thick. So deliciously mine.

“What are you?” he growled.

“Yours,” I whimpered. “Your girl. Your fucktoy.”

He slapped my ass. “That’s right,” he said, slamming back into me with a deep grunt. “What do I want from you, fucktoy?”

“My body.”

“What else?” He spanked me again, making me cry out as pleasure rippled across my stinging skin. Only he knew how to bring forth my lust for pain from deep inside me. With any other man, it was just pain. With Mason, it was heart-stopping pleasure.

“Submission,” I murmured.

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