Page 45 of Scary In Love
26
Jenna
Anyonewho’swatchedahorror movie knows you should never try to escape the killer by running upstairs, but I suspect you shouldn’t let a masked man wielding a chainsaw chase you into the cellars of an abandoned old mansion, either.
Yet here I am, and I love it.
Like every room in this fucking house, things lurk in the shadows, dusty bottles and wooden barrels that seem to go on forever. In the middle of the room is a chair, almost throne-like, positioned underneath a single flickering bulb.
If Mason keeps this place, I swear the electrics are the first thing he needs to fix.
With his hockey mask still on, he nods for me to sit. I’m just getting comfortable when a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning has me leaping to my feet.
Mason pushes me back down, and the room fills with the sound of a heavy rainstorm. I wonder how he’s doing all of this, but he’s a master of props and special effects. This was never going to be a normal hookup. The thought makes me laugh so loudly it echoes off the old stone walls. Literally,nothingabout this is normal.
“Been waiting a long time for someone like you to visit the house.” He drags a finger down my cheek. “Someone to play games with.”
“What kind of games?” I ask nervously.
My back sinks into the old velvet as he towers over me. It doesn’t really matter what they are, I definitely want to play. He tosses something in my lap, and my eyes widen when I pick it up. A burlap sack.
“Put that on.”
His harsh tone makes me fumble with the drawstring, but finally it’s open and I pull it over my head. The material is rough against my cheeks, but it’s breathable, and I can just make out the shape of him through the loose weave. Light flickers behind him, bringing his shadow in and out of focus as he moves around in silence.
He disappears behind the chair, and my head jerks when he lifts one of my wrists. The pad of his thumb strokes the thin skin there, a moment of tender reassurance, before he presses it down on the armrest. My other arm copies without thinking, fingers gripping around the curved ends.
The unmistakable sound of tape being pulled from a roll has my core throbbing, though I’m not sure it ever stopped.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, playing the innocent victim just for him. “If you let me go, I promise I’ll never tell a soul. You can trust me. I’ll be good.”
“Yes, you will.”
He pinches my nipples hard enough to make me curse. Through the rain noise in the background, I hear him make a gruff sound, and then my tits are in his big, warm hands, his thumbs rolling and tugging at my nipples.
I wish I could see. Watching him spit on them in his makeshift surgery was such a turn-on, and knowing he’s watching my body react to his touch is making me hornier than ever.
“Fuckin’ tease,” he mutters, dropping my tits and smacking downwards more gently than I’d like.
He pulls away and grips my face through the burlap. I can feel him breathing from the other side of it. So close, but not close enough. He shoves my face to one side, but it’s playful, and I love the feeling of being his to play with.
His touch is rougher than when he examined me in the surgery room, but I’m not complaining. I’ve always wanted to be with someone who’s not afraid to manhandle me. I want to be pinned down and thrown around and squeezed until he leaves marks. I already can’t wait to see what state I’ll be in tomorrow.
Next, he straps my ankles to the legs of the chair, holding them spread apart. When he’s finished with his preparations, I hear his footsteps walk away, then another loud crack of thunder.
“Silly little girl,” he tuts. “Look what you’ve gotten yourself into. Gonna split you wide open down here, and no-one will ever know.”
The next sound is his chainsaw, and with each flash of lightning, his silhouette comes closer and closer. I try to take deep breaths and remind myself it’s not real, but when I feel a buzzing sensation right between my thighs, I scream louder than I have all night.
It only takes a second to understand it’s a vibrator, and I’m not actually about to be dismembered, but Mason’s chuckle is pure evil as I thrash in the chair.
He holds it lightly against my clit. It’s not enough, but somehow also exactly right. With my knees strapped, I’m powerless to do anything but sit here and take it, and I come shockingly fast, moaning my way through it.
I expect him to pull away, but he ups the speed and keeps it right there.
Oh god no.
Mason’s pleasure dom is here to play, and I understand now that everything up to this point was just a warmup. My hips buck, my pussyaches, and though I know I don’t stand a chance against him, my body still tries to fight it.
