Page 46 of Scary In Love
He presses harder, and when a second orgasm barrels through me, his laugh filters through the sack.
“You bastard,” I hiss from beneath it. “Please, no more. I can’t.”
“Then you know what to say.”
Red.
I don’t even want to think it. Unless I use my safeword, he won’t stop, so I press my lips together to keep my mouth shut.
“What a good toy,” he says, and I know he doesn’t mean the wand.
There’s barely a second to focus before I’m coming again. My head sags forward, shoulders rolling inward. When the wave stays at its crest, I twist my head and bury my face in my shoulder.
“You can scream all you want down here. Nobody will hear you.”
He says it like a threat, but I know it’s a promise.
Mason knows how much I’ve longed for this, a chance to come loudly and proudly without holding back. I want it so much, but I’m not giving him what he wants that easily.
My moans become whines, so he grabs a handful of my breast and sucks at my nipple while massaging the buzzing head up and down my throbbing sex. The rhythmic motion pulls me closer to the precipice.
“Come on, Jenna. You can do better than that. Scream for me. Let it all out, you needy fucking whore.”
He bites into my breast, sucking hard as I hiss through my teeth. I should hate this, but at this moment, I am a whore.
Hiswhore.
My body was made for nothing but pleasing him. It just so happens that pleasing him means I have to keep orgasming until I’m on the brink of death, apparently.
He turns off the wand, but my relief is short-lived when I hear him spit, then feel it, hot and slippery, dripping over my clit. He spreads it around slowly, pinching me between his fingers, rolling, flicking, pulling.
It’s too much.
Unbearable.
Everything.
All he gets from me is a series of high-pitched squeals, so he switches tactics, rubbing my clit from side to side with short, fast strokes that have me coming all over again.
When I’m done, he spanks me right between the legs, and I almost howl, but manage to pull it back.
“Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
He squirts something—lube, I assume, and lots of it—between my legs, and I shiver at the change in temperature while it dribbles all over me. Then he’s gone, somewhere out of reach.
The rain sounds make it impossible to place him in the room, but soon I feel the cold sensation of something hard and curved being pushed inside me.
He slips it in and out, twisting and turning, pushing deeper each time. Whatever it is, it’s big, and it feels phenomenal. Nobody has ever used toys on me before. I want to see myself through his eyes, stretched and soaking and helpless.
“You will scream for me,” he says, stern and impatient.
The toy buzzes to life inside me. I groan loudly and try to push it out to be a little bratty, but he just tuts and fucks me harder.
Mason presses his cheek hard against mine. His ragged, hot breath is primal in my ear.
“Scream, you pathetic slut.”
He bites into my exposed shoulder, and when he puts the wand back on my clit, I lose the fight.
