Page 33 of The Trick

“Be careful what you wish for, little hellcat.”

Dreams are like masks. Sure, they may look good on the surface, but, often, what’s beneath them is a nightmare in disguise. It’s why psychopaths like myself flock to them. Nothing is hotter than tricking people into thinking you're something you're not. Just like nothing is more fun than watching vile little sluts like Blair Van Tassel go weak in the knees thinking that she can handle a monster like me.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

There is something that happens when you are face to face—or in this case, face to mask—with evil. It can do one of two things to you. It will either make your heart drop in a fear that feels so ripe, it makes you want to run far away to cleanse yourself of the dark entity that was just in your presence. Or, in a much rarer case, it fuels your need to be closer to that darkness. So close in fact, your hand just so happens to graze the bulge that is begging to be released from the pants of the tall, inked, and harnessed psycho who smells of woody musk and bad decisions.My favorite.

My hand remains hovering over his very hard, very impressive, cock and I swear I feel the ridge of multiple piercings.

“You know,Katrina,” his patronizing tone begins, “if you insist on handling my cock like that, we should at least exchange our real names.”

The fucking rumble of his baritone against his mask makes my already slick pussy pulse.

Gliding my hand over his hardened length once more, I rub my flattened palm over his pants just to confirm my suspicions. Yep, there is definitely a row of barbells on it.Ah fuck. My dream.

“I don’t need to know your name to make you come,” I breathe moving my lips to where his mouth hides behind his mask. “But how could I forget a psychopath like you? One who just keeps coming back for more, as if I couldn’t steal that knife you pulled on Kevin and drive it into your heart. Isn’t that right, Maddox?” I chide, giving his pierced cock another squeeze before lowering my hand.

He doesn’t move. Not even a flinch. Nothing. He just stands there with his eyes locked on mine.

We stand in silence, though our bodies are begging to be unleashed on one another, to make the other one bleed. The tension screams between us, yet neither of us say a word. It’s like a game of chess, him and I.

“That’s what I thought,” I quip, turning around.

My movements are halted when an ink covered forearm, thick with muscle and bulging veins, attaches itself to my arm as the other hand pulls at the leather strap of harness that sits at my back.

He pulls me into his broad chest with such force, I feel whiplash as I lose my balance, the tips of my high heels wobbling as I try to find steady ground. Maintaining his strong hold, he keeps me upright, pressing my chest against his.

The lights lower. Shades of purple, red and orange begin to cast their reflective glow around us making his already dark aura appear even more sinister. He lowers his face to my ear.

“Don’t make me spank you in front of all these people,” he threatens and, although it’s muffled, the deep baritone of his voice sends the message loud and clear.

Challenge accepted.

I lean into his grip just enough to make him think I am consenting to his madness and just as he instinctively begins to melt into my body, I move away, wiggling free from his grip.

A throaty grunt echoes from beneath his mask as I turn so my backside faces him. Lifting my shoulder to my chin, I turn my head, batting my eyelashes as I arch my back, shaking my ass for him to spank.

“Go ahead, spank me daddy,” I challenge, continuing to arch my back so my ass pokes out more. “After the scene you’ve caused here tonight, a little public reprimanding wouldn’t make any of these idiots flinch.”

Leaving my ass poked out for him to spank a few more seconds, I wait, but he does nothing. There’s no witty response like I had hoped for, nor the spank that I not only deserve, but want. Just a tall, silent,masked man who is now clenching his fist because he is probably fuming that, of all the people he had to develop such an extreme obsession for, it’s me. The brattiest, most sarcastic one of the bunch.

I shrug in defeat, turning toface him. Even with his face concealed, I can practically feel the aggravation oozing from his pores.

“Suit yourself. Maybe I should go see if Kevin will spank mesince you won’t,” I scoff,about to turn away when he finally breaks his silence.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns, his voice bold and brazen, just like him. “Stay.”

“Say it,” I step to him, tilting my head up, both my hands now resting on my hips.

“Why should I listen to you by staying here and not going to see what old Kevy can offer me, huh?” I ask, purposely egging him on.

He releases a grunt before taking his hand to the collar that wraps around my neck. “Because you’re mine, that’s why”

A smile spreads across my lips. “That’s what I thought.” I bring my hand down to his and to my surprise he releases his tight hold, placing his large fingers in my hand. I take hold of his palm, guiding it to the meat of my ass. “If you want me to be yours after all this time, show me what it feels like to be yours. Show me how much it will hurt.”

I feel his palm widening, accommodating the plump flesh of my ass. He begins to knead my skin before weaving his ringed finger into one of the small openings of my fishnets. The sharpened edge brings with it a sensation of coolness as he drags it against my skin.

“You really want to die don’t you, little hellcat?” he asks, removing the hand that was just at my ass, bringing it to my cheek, my periphery zoning in on the rivulet of red that stains the edge of his ring.

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