Page 43 of Masked in Deception
One more time. We can set a few parameters and see what this is between us. The hate fucking was crazy hot, but I think we need a more controlled environment. Hell, she might not even show up in the first place, but if she does…a world doesn’t exist where I will ever let her go again. In any capacity.
Chapter thirty-nine
Margot, you stupid slut. One good fucking from a big dick and you can’t stay away? Where the hell is the boss bitch CEO who wassooonot anyone’s sub and wouldneverrrbe talked to like that again?
I think we left her at home after she had dreams every night this week of being tied up and degraded by a man in a mask with a giant, talented cock.
Yes, thank you, subconscious. Painfully unhelpful, as always. But not incorrect in your assessment of this week, which has been hellish. My vibe and my memories of previous encounters have let me down, and I’ve somehow found myself staring at the door to the reserved room exactly a week after I left here pissed off and swearing never to return. I’m horny and confused, but apparently, horny is winning out.
I at least owe it to myself to see if I can get one more orgasm out of this man, and maybe we can discuss our dynamic like adults and steer it in a direction that’s more consistent with my usual flings. Respectful meetings, passion, no need for all thisextra…whatever it is. Not really what I would call a Dominant/submissive relationship, but a power exchange—no more. I’m the queen of my world, and I’m not going to kneel or crawl or bow or whatever else this fucker wants. If that’s the only reason he’s here, he’ll have to find someone else.
I steel myself, take a deep breath, and open the door with my lace mask firmly in place and my black velvet robe tied around my lingerie of choice this evening. My red-bottomed heels are still on, and I have a garter belt and garters holding up my thigh-highs, currently hidden under the robe. Somehow, knowing what’s on the other side of the door is more intimidating than the first time when this was totally new, and I can feel the blush heating my face, neck, and decolletage.
After closing the door behind me, I turn and lean back against it, taking in the huge, muscled frame of my masked man. He’s sitting in the same chair as last time, man-spreading his huge legs out in front of him. Boots, black jeans, and a long-sleeved workout top complete his look. Plus his balaclava, which covers almost all of his face. His arms are bent behind his head as he reclines, the picture of a man who knows the world is his.Who knows that I’m his, at least in this room.
I want to be mad at his arrogance and the strength he’s projecting, but the part of my brain descended from cave-dwellers saysthis giant man will fuck you, impregnate you, protect you, and your offspring will have a good chance of surviving.
Our biological urge to fuck is undefeated.
I open my mouth to try to set the tone for this meeting, explain that aspects of last timecannotbe repeated, and suggest we discuss some additional ground rules to those set out by the club, but he beats me to it.
“I knew you’d come back for more, you desperate little slut.”
The wind goes right out of my sails. I deflate as the reconciliatory mood I was in is replaced with disbelief andanger.Damn, I seem to be getting angry a lot these days. My mouth drops open, and I must stand in shock for over a minute because he finally chuckles, breaking the silence.
“Is your mouth open because you’re asking for something to be put in it? We’re going to have to discuss a few things, and you’ll certainly be silent more often than not, but this might be a rare case when I ask you to use your words. Would you like something in your mouth?”
Ohfuckthis guy, and fuck my misogynistic pussy for being wetter than it’s been all week, just because this asshole is mouthing off. I snap my mouth shut and make a sharp turn to face the door, placing my hand on the handle and getting ready to pull it open and sprint the fuck out of here…
“Wait.”
I hesitate, giving him time to rise from his chair, seemingly unbothered and unhurried, and slowly walk to me. His looming presence behind me makes me tremble with need, and I haven’t felt this confused about my own desires and emotions in years. Since I was making sense of my feelings for Jack. I hated uncertainty then, and I hate it now, even as I feel myself growing wetter from this man standing over me.
He places his hands on my corseted waist, and I feel tiny standing in front of him, even in my heels. It’s not so much a height difference, just the power radiating off him, and I could cry, I’m so confused.Is it period week, and I’ve miscounted? What the hell is this tidal wave of emotion?I’m still just as angry, too. Angry, horny, overwhelmed. My life story lately. Put it on my gravestone.
I feel him bend down behind me and nuzzle his nose into the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. He inhales deeply, exhaling with a deep, masculine groan that makes my pussyclench around nothing. After holding me for a long minute, he finally speaks.
“It’s not wrong to want this.”
And damn him, I know he’s right. It feels too perfect to be wrong. I still feel the urge to fight to be in control, though. I realize I must’ve said this out loud when he responds.
“You’re in control, P…” He pauses after speaking the “P” sound, before giving a slight cough and continuing, “You are in control, pet. This all ends with one word or four taps from you, and you think you aren’t in control?”
He spins me around to face him, and I take in hisbrowneyes? I could have sworn they were blue last week, but it was dimmer in here.
One of his large hands travels slowly from my waist, gliding with a barely there touch over my breasts and collarbone, before landing on my neck and holding me. Not squeezing, just holding me,grounding meagainst the door, and I stop trembling. His hand leaves my neck to brush across my lips before prying my mouth open. He slips his middle and ring fingers into my mouth, pressing down slightly on my tongue and holding my jaw in a firm grip. I widen my eyes when I realize I can’t speak, but he immediately soothes me.
“Shh, shh. You know how to get out. Four taps, pet. But I need your attention and I need you to listen and not interrupt me, and this is the most efficient way to talk to you right now.”
I must telegraph my intention with my eyes because he chuckles darkly. “I wouldn’t recommend it, pet. I bite back.”
Abandoning my intention of biting down on his fingers as hard as I can, I wait for him to continue. “As I was saying before I was interrupted. It’snotwrong to want this, and as I just reiterated, you hold the control here. WhatIthink is that both of usneedthis. I want to dominate you. In my outside life, things are happening well beyond my control, and I’m spiraling. I need thiscontrol. If I had to guess, I would say that in your life or career, you have to make many,manydecisions every day, and this has become tiresome lately. You could use a break from using that brilliant brain of yours all day, every day. Nod if I’m correct.”
I nod, maintaining the mesmerizing eye contact we’ve held this entire time and feeling the tight, comforting hold he has on my jaw. Spit is pooling in my mouth and leaking onto his hand and down onto my robe, but he pays it no mind.
“I thought so. Now, I would also guess that you’re a powerful woman used to making endless decisions, being in charge, and getting your way. Correct?”
I nod. Spit drips.
