Page 8 of Darkest Fantasies

Her legs begin to shake violently. She cries out, and her back arches as she finds her release. I lower her legs from my shoulders, stand up, take a step back, grab my mask, place it back on, and admire the sight in front of me. With a red face, she closes her eyes as her chest heaves, her come slides down her leg. She. Is. Fucking. Beautiful. A masterpiece.

She opens her eyes after a few long minutes and looks at me, eyes burning with desire before she looks down her legs. She tries to reach over for paper towels, but I grab her wrist, stopping her.

“That paper is far too rough for such delicate skin my little shadow.”

She tilts her head slightly to the side, lips tilted upwards. “Yeah?” She pretends to look around. “I don’t see a cotton towel for me to use.” Her voice drips with amusement. “So what could I use instead?”

In a flash of a second, I’m back kneeling in front of her, grabbing her leg, mask on top of my head. “This.” I trail my tongue up her leg, licking away her come and leaving goosebumps on her skin. When I’m done cleaning every inch of her, I stand up, taking in her widened lust, filled eyes.

“You taste like fucking heaven.” Her mouth falls open, and I can’t help but chuckle. “You don’t believe me?” She blinks slowly as if she is coming out of a trance. “Then see for yourself.”

Chapter 7

Catherine

He doesn’t allow me to respond or comprehend what is going on before our lips collide. He kisses me with everything in him. He kisses me as if my lips are his only reason to live. There are so many intense emotions in his kiss, but right now, my brain is too jumbled to comprehend anything, let alone complex emotions. There’s so much chemistry between us that I’m afraid the world will implode.

He slips his tongue into my mouth, and I moan into the kiss, relishing the lingering taste of me. That thought ignites something inside of me, and I immediately find myself a hot, impatient mess, craving more. I fist his hood, clumsily, my hands trembling and pulling him closer, trying to break the small amount of space left between us entirely. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and softly bites down, his hands framing my face as he draws back his head, breaking our kiss and taking a few steps away.

“Please,” I beg. I don’t care if I sound desperate. There’s an ache between my legs that needs to be sedated, and I think he might be the only one who can. I blink a few times, trying to focus on his profile, but the small red light illuminating us doesn’t let me really look at him.

“Patience, my shadow.” He says, taking a wider step back, picks up the items on the floor, and walks out of the bathroom. Leaving me confused, pissed off, and aroused at the same time.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fucking fuck.” I exhale a long breath, resting my head back on the mirror. My mind is spinning. Did that actually happen? Did that actually happen? I didn’t imagine it, right? Did a Soul Reaper make me orgasm so hard I saw stars in a freaking bathroom with only his tongue and his fingers? What is my life right now?

A very fucking good one.

I don’t have much experience to compare it to since I lost my virginity to another virgin in a bathroom while camping with my aunt.

The sound of my ringtone brings me back. I reach over to where I left my bag, but my hand finds nothing. My eyebrows bunch together. That’s strange. I don’t remember knocking it down. I slowly shimmy off the sink and onto the floor, having to hold on tight from my still quivering legs. After gaining my footing, I walk over to the light switch, flip it on, and turn back to look for my bag.

I freeze in my tracks when I only see my phone. He stole my bag but left my phone. What the fuck? What is he going to possibly do with the ugly black dress?

“Shit.” My heart sinks. I’m supposed to be meeting Matt and his parents. I grab my phone hastily and look through the messages. Some are from the girls asking me if I was okay, and the other is from Matt asking me where the hell I am. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look at the time it’s six thirty-seven. I’m late. My phone rings in my hand. It’s Matt.

“Hello,” I answer hesitantly, readying myself for the tongue-lashing.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asks in a hush tone as if he doesn’t want anyone to hear him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well and have been stuck in the bathroom.” I lie through my teeth with the first thought I can think of.

“You’re going to pay for making me look foolish, Catherine.” I should be afraid of his threat, but the high I’m still feeling doesn’t have room for fear. I’ll deal with the consequences later. They’re inevitable no matter what I do or don’t do. Might as well live a little.

“Where do I meet you?”

“Main entrance.” He snaps and hangs up. I take a moment to relax my nerves, calm my pulsing heart, and stop my raging thoughts. I look down to grab my stocking since he destroyed my underwear, but for the third time this night, my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest. He took my clothes, not just my bag. The only item he left me is my shoes.

Oh, my dear god. The realization of that thought feels like someone is dumping a bucket of freezing water over me. He took my clothes. I'm not sure if I should be mad or laugh about it. All I have to cover my private area is a short shirt that, if I move the wrong way or a gust of wind hits it I’ll be giving a free show to everyone. What a mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Trying to make myself look somewhat presentable, I walk back to the sink and splash some water on my face, cleaning the smudge eyeliner from under my eyes with a dry paper. I leave with one last look in the mirror, knowing there’s nothing else I can do.

As I’m walking towards the main entrance, I take a moment to text my friends, telling them the same lie I told Matt. It’s not like I can actually tell them what really kept me occupied, even though, knowing them, they would be over the moon if I told them - even pretty jealous.

When my phone beeps, I expect it to be a message from the girls, but it’s from a new unknown number. My stomach does asummersault. How did he get my number? I didn’t give it to him and he never got the chance to call himself from my phone. A slow smile builds on my face. If he has had it for years he doesn’t have the need to ask me.

Unknown: Enjoying the breeze?

Me: Why did you have to take my clothes? You’re a horrible person for doing that.

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