Page 8 of Unmasking Mayhem
“What if someone’s watching?” I ask cautiously, the hair on the back of my neck still standing from the scare earlier.
“Let them fucking watch,” he replies, boldly rubbing my breasts as if inviting anyone to fucking watch.
With a thrust of his hips, he silently commands me to free his cock. I comply, lifting myself off his lap to pull his pants down. As I sit back down, his cock slips snugly between my ass, and I grind my hips against him, surrendering to an intoxicating rhythm that only I can hear. A low growl rumbles from his lips as he grips my waist tighter, guiding my movements. The cool night air collides with the warmth of his body, sending shivers cascading through me. My fear fades, hidden by the sensation of our bodies intertwined.
“Harder, Mischief,” Crow urges, his breath hot against my ear, igniting electric sparks across my skin.
My body responds instinctively, grinding harder against him, feeling his cock pressing insistently against my pussy as I slide up a little.
I squeeze my eyes shut, losing myself in the sensations when suddenly, another twig snaps nearby, bringing me back to the reality of the world outside our cocoon of warmth. Panic courses through me, and I scan the shadows, wondering if the sound was real or my imagination, contemplating if lurking danger indeed waits in the darkness.
“Don’t fucking think about it,” Crow whispers, pulling me back to the moment as his hands grip my hips possessively. “Focus on me.”
I nod slowly, closing my eyes again, struggling to erase the thought that we might not be quite as alone as I'd like to believe. Crow’s fingers trail lower, slipping beneath the waistband of my skirt and teasing the sensitive skin just above my pussy, noticing I'm not wearing anything underneath. He chuckles against my ear, that sultry sound making my pulse race as it intensifies my burning desire.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs breathlessly, his fingers dancing near the fire igniting within me. “You’re always fucking wet for me, my little Mischief.”
I respond with a moan, a soft affirmation that echoes in the stillness, almost desperate. I can’t help but press against his hand and ride it, yearning for more, losing myself in the rhythm of his tantalizing movements. His fingers dip lower, teasing yet never quite reaching my entrance, relishing the power he holds over me. Then, the sound of rustling leaves grows louder, and my heart races once more. A primal instinct to flee claws at me, but Crow holds me firmly in place, pushing me onto his cock even harder.
“Stay,” he commands, his grip tightening almost painfully as he senses my unease. “No one is fucking getting to you.”
But what if they already have?The thought sends chills racing down my spine, and I try to shake it off, yet Crow’s attention shifts abruptly. He leans in, nibbling along my shoulder, his warm breath mingling with the cool night air—a welcomed distraction that almost pulls me back into bliss.
“Look at me,” he urges, his voice steady and low, demanding my complete attention.
I open my eyes and spin around on his lap, meeting his dark, enigmatic gaze, shimmering with unyielding desire. “No worries; it’s just us. Focus on what I’m doing to you.”
I nod, looking deeply into his eyes as he fists his cock and pushes it inside of me, my lips parting from the intense pleasure. With his finger to my lips, he uses his other hand to guide my hips how he wants, and I rock against him instantly.
"Now fucking ride me, Whitney, and don't take your fucking eyes off of mine until I tell you to," he demands dominantly, his hands coming back up to cup my breasts in a massaging manner.
"Anything for you, baby," I whisper in his ear, returning my gaze to his before I begin bouncing up and down on his cock.
With each thrust, I feel the heat between us accelerate, creating an intoxicating blend of urgency and desire. My body moves in sync with his, an instinctual dance fueled by lust, fear, desperation, and power. It’s thrilling and overwhelming, a sweet tension that sends shockwaves deep within me.
“Fuck... Just like that,” Crow urges, his voice gravelly and dark, thick with desire. "Feel me inside you, Whitney?" he asks, then drops his voice even lower. "Show me what you want. Use my cock to show me what your pussy wants.”
Every word feels like a spark fueling a fire inside me, amplifying my need for him. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his flesh as I pick up my pace, my body yearning for him to take control, to merge with me completely. But I know tonight is all about me, and my submission to him isn't what he wants.
“Fuck, it feels so good,” I moan, breathless, the words slipping from my lips as a plea for more—a demand for him to claim me fully.
The weight of his intimidating gaze fills the air between us with an unmistakable intensity, grounding me in the moment while spiraling me into another fucking dimension. A wicked grin forms beneath his mask as he lifts me slightly, thrusting up into me with a ferocity that catches me off guard. The aching pleasure from his cock ripping apart my insides explodes within me, each stroke sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through my body.
“Good girl,” he growls, the praise and urgency of his voice washing over me like a tide, urging me to surrender fully. “Don’t stop. You’re doing so well.”
I can feel the tension coiling tightly in my core, trembling on the edge of something momentous. But as I begin to lose myself in the moment again, the rustling outside returns, louder this time, and my heart begins to hammer wildly against my ribcage.Crow seems to sense my shift in focus, his expression tightening as he anchors me back into the heat of our connection.
“What did I say?” His tone turns serious and commanding as his grip on my waist transforms into an unyielding hold.
“Don’t think about it,” I whisper, forcing my breath to steady. “I’m here with you.”
“Good,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper. “Just let go. Trust me.”
He pulls a rolled blunt out from behind his ear like a fucking magician finding a quarter and puts it between his lips to light it. Once he has the end cherried, he puts the other end to my lips and holds it for me while I inhale, feeling the weed relax all the tense parts of my body and mind, intensifying the pleasure from riding his cock. He locks eyes with me, a sea of darkness swirling with an emotion I can’t quite name, and I know he’s being sincere, vulnerable in his own way. I want to believe him. I want to drown in that gaze and lose myself completely, but there's something holding me back.
With each grind and bounce, the fear that creeps at the edge of my consciousness fades away, replaced instead by a primal need for him—an innate longing that binds us together in this wild dance of flesh and sin. I’m slipping again, slipping into the euphoric bliss that exists only between us. But the unmistakable sound of footsteps now echoes through the clearing, and I freeze, my body instinctively stilling against him. Crow’s eyes flare with intensity at my reaction, but his hands remain firm, steadying me as the delicate balance of anticipation and terror hangs between us.
“Focus,” he growls, his voice deep and demanding, stirring something fierce within me. “Forget the fucking world. You need to understand this—no one is a threat to you while I’m fucking here.”
