Page 15 of Masked
We hug and walk down the hall together. I say one last goodnight when we reach my door, and slip inside while he takes the last few steps to my parents’ bedroom.
Inside and alone, thoughts of Rickon immediately take control of me. The interruption in the living room didn’t do a damn thing to stop my yearning want for pleasure. And where I’d rather have it be Rickon who delivers it, my imagination and fingers will have to carry me tonight.
I slip out of my outfit and into a dark blue satin pajama dress and nightrobe and head to the window to draw the curtains shut. But just before they close completely, something in the street catches my eye.
Is that a shadowy figure ghosting in the dark? With most of the streetlights out, I can’t make out more than a general shape. The shape drifts closer and becomes slightly clearer. Tall and broad and menacing.
My initial instinct screams danger.
It could be Rickon, I remind myself, and it probably is. But with how tonight has gone, it could just as likely be the piece of trash who took me outside and set me on this path to begin with.
It seems I’ve attracted all the crazy ones, and, well, thisisthe time of year all right. I shouldn’t get comfortable just yet. But if I learned one thing tonight, other than how badly I crave Rickon, it’s that sometimes you have to get your hands dirty to protect yourself.
Grabbing a metal baseball bat from my cupboard, I storm out of my room and front door. Adrenaline tickles every nerve in my body as I descend their staircase.
My bravado fades in a flash as I step back out into the cold night air. Nothing about what I’m doing is smart. A little drunk and in a haze from the night, I guess making good decisions isn’t very high on my to-do list.
“I was hoping you’d see me.” That voice sets my mind at ease in an instant. “But if you’re trying to scare me, Baby Doll, you’ll need a bigger stick.”
Rickon’s standing against the wall, one leg kicked up against it, arms crossed over his enormous chest. Eyes flashing his devious intentions, with a wicked smile to match.
“You think?” My smile stretches from ear to ear. My heart flutters and my legs turn to jelly noticing its Rickon. The ache hisvoice inspires between my thighs washes away any doubts I had about coming down here in a puddle of lust. “Well, take off your pants. I think I’ll find a better one.”
There’s no use in denying or fighting it anymore. This is happening, and nothing’s going to stop me this time.
Dropping the baseball bat, I throw myself into him. Our mouths meet in an electric kiss, stimulating the senses and driving me into a frenzy. My pulse starts racing. With my nerves abated, desire digs in deep and blossoms into frantic actions.
Rickon cups my ass with one hand, the other slinking down my front. It stops briefly, tugging at the thin strip holding my robe shut and exposing my body beneath.
Pulling his head back, Rickon’s tongue slithers over his lip at the sight of my body. It’s short enough to expose most of my lower body, and tight around the top to squeeze around my breasts. It leaves just enough to the imagination to make him drool for what’s waiting.
“Like what you see?” I gulp, swooning at the way he looks at me. Like I’m the only thing that matters in this world.
“Fucking love it,” he says.
I launch into him again, and though our mouths smash together passionately. We start walking, never breaking from the embrace, until we reach his car.
I only notice how far we’ve gone when Rickon’s knees buckle against the passenger side door.
“Get in,” he says, “you’re coming with me.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He opens the door and I slip inside.
He rushes around the hood, starts the engine and we start moving down the road.
But I can’t keep my hands off of him while we drive. Staring at his muscular chest, they quickly descend to his belt. Fiddling and fondling with the buckle, while his cock throbs and tenses against his jeans.
I tug at the zip and free him from it. Where I could tell he was big before, nothing could prepare me for the tower of meat stretching out of the hole.
Rickon slams on the breaks when I wrap my hand around it, grunting feverishly at the sensations rushing through him. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t stop me, just grunts and groans as I stroke the length in a loose grip.
The car starts moving again, with urgency this time, in a hurry to reach his destination.
And I’m right there with him. Sliding a hand between my legs, pleasuring him and myself, with what’s about to come.
7
RICKON
