Page 15 of Morally Grey

“This mask gave you the confidence you needed to commit that murder, so it stands to reason that it could help you now, in much the same way. For whatever reason, you think that fucking me is wrong, just like you knew killing that woman was wrong. I want you to put on the mask and repeat history. Make my body a fucking crime scene, Grey.”

I half-expect him to recoil. He hasn’t loved mentions of his crime so far. But he doesn’t. He just lifts his hand, snatches the mask away, and puts it over his head.

God, he’s handsome without his mask, but with it? He’s irresistible. There’s something almost menacing about the way his eyes are the only visible piece of his face. With this mask on, he’s a murderer instead of a man who committed a desperate homicide.

Arousal drips down my thighs.

I straddle his body and grind my pussy over the front of his pants. His hands glide down my sides as he lengthensand hardens beneath me. When I tug down the front of his sweatpants, he remains hard this time. I run my hand along the soft, silky skin and wrap my fingers around him.

“You know what I want you to do with that,” he says. “It’s the same thing I wanted you to do to my face.”

“And what’s that?” I bite my lip.

“Sit on my fucking cock.”

I like this side of him. I like the confidence that mask gives him. So I push the crotch of my shorts aside again, rub his cock through my wet slit, and press him against my entrance. A moan leaves my mouth as I sit on him fully, and the groan that leaves him makes me pulse around him.

Fuck, I like that sound. It sounds like he’s been waiting for this. And wanting it too.

He fills me entirely as I ride him, up and down, forward and backward, until I’m dripping down his length. His hands squeeze my hips as I buck on top of him, and then he grips my hair and pulls me against him. My hard nipples press against my cami, yearning to touch his skin.

“Pull my mask up a bit, little psycho,” he grits out.

I reach up and raise the bottom of his mask. His full lips pop out from beneath the fabric, and he drags me into him by my hair, bringing my mouth to his.

I pull away from the kiss and bite his lip. “Do you like how I ride you, killer?”

Grey puts both hands firmly on my hips to stop me from grinding on him.

Oops. I probably shouldn’t have let my intrusive thoughts become outside words. In my head, I’ve been riding the face and fucking the dick of a cold, callous killer. He may not be cold and callous in reality, but he’s still definitely a killer, even if he doesn’t want to be.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

He flips me onto my back on the bed, and his hands work down my shorts. The chain strains as he climbs between my legs. “Don’t apologize,” he growls before tugging his mask down.

He’s the picture of what I’ve fantasized about. I’ve imagined this exact scenario, but it was a little less consensual. Sue me.

Grey sits up and spreads my legs wider. “You want this killer’s dick? Every inch of it?”

“Please,” I whimper.

He impales me on his cock as he pistons in and out of my poor pussy. I bite my lip to stop screaming, and he pins my arms above my head.

“I want you to fill me,” I whimper, my voice growing hoarse.

“You want a big, bad killer to come inside you?”

I nod, much faster than I should. Embarrassingly so. I’ve never wanted anything more.

He wraps a hand around my throat, and like the slut I am, I lean into his grasp. I’m a breath away from saying “Choke me, daddy,” but as if he read my mind, he squeezes and gives me a mind-numbing blood choke.

“Good little psycho,” he whispers in my ear. His hips grow ragged, then stall as he fills me with warm heat.

He releases my arms and sits up on his knees as he pulls the mask from his face. His dark hair sticks out in every direction, and that wild look still lingers in his eyes, but he turns from that menacing beast into the light Grey that I’m used to. He throws the mask beside my head and leans over me, then kisses me, soft and gentle. The act is so at odds with what we just did.

What he just didtome. God, it was so fucking hot.

“You have fucked-up fetishes,” he says against my mouth.

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