Page 66 of Do It For Me
He begins throwing objects, each landing with a dull thud against the floor. He grunts. My body reacts, as though I’m conditioned by that—though I’m not—and I rub my thighs together.
I swear, my heart is the one about to run away.
He stands in the middle of the room. I can see his eyes from where I am, and his body shifts with each heavy breath. The mask must be restricting his air.
He starts unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the tattoos on his chest. My breasts feel heavy, and a sudden urge rises within me to crawl toward him, to lick and kiss every inch of his body.
A few days ago, I discovered he likes it when I’m all over him, mesmerised. He admitted that no one has ever looked at him with so much love in their eyes.
I haven’t said I love him yet, but I think I’ll do it today. Because I do. I love him. I’m falling for him more every day, and I feel like I can’t get enough.
His gaze locks onto mine, and when he tilts his head to the side, I run. Something about the way he looks at me is terrifying.
I push the sofa towards him and sprint for the stairs. The light there will let me see him more clearly, but when I glance back, he’s gone.
I reach the next floor, panting and suppressing a laugh, but it catches in my throat when the door swings open. A masked man—mymasked man—pulls me against his chest, one hand covering my mouth.
“What do we have here?”
I try to resist, but it’s useless. My scratches don’t even faze him.
He pushes me towards the stairs and forces me onto all fours. His hands rip my dress, and without hesitation, he shoves two fingers inside me.
I shudder as he finds the spot that drives me insane.
“You’re such a little whore. Wet for your worst nightmare.”
“L-let me go,” I gasp, though I don’t want him to. He told me to fight him.
“Beg, sweetheart. If you do, I’ll think about it.”
“P-please. I have—I will get married. I can’t—”
He slides another finger inside me and pushes one into my back entrance too. My body goes limp on the stairs.
“You have a fiancé and you’re still dripping on my hand.” He clicks his tongue. “Poor guy. He deserves better than a used cunt like yours.”
Low blow. I want to tell him it’s too much, but the words die in my throat as his tongue finds my clit.
“I’m not—”
“I’m going to fuck this tight pussy until it’s full of my cum. You’ll be walking down the aisle with it dripping out of you, and you’ll be thinking about what I’ll do to you tonight.” He sucks again and then spits. “And when you get married, you’ll think about me every day until we meet again, my little whore.”
He sucks on me again, and I clench around his fingers. My eyes roll back in my head as pleasure consumes me.
“Oh, God,” I moan, pressing myself against him.
“Scream for me,amore.”
And I do. I arch my back, desperate for the release only he can give me. My body trembles, and I’m afraid I’m making a mess all over his face.
When I try to stand, he grips my hips with both hands and presses me against his face, thrusting his tongue deeper inside me.
Holy—
“Please, let me go,” I pant. “This is too good.”
“You walk out, and I’ll kill you.”
