Page 4 of Ex-Mas
“You know exactly what gets me off, Lys. We had fun together, didn’t we?” He smiles a little too wickedly for the man I loved, but when he speaks again, I feel the truth of his words. “I can’t wear different faces down here. None of us can.”
So not a fever dream, a nightmare. One of the worst I’ve had since it happened. Reaching up, I stop just shy of touching the jagged red scar across his neck, not wanting to hurt him or offend him. I did that to him. I didn’t mean to, but I did. And whether this is a horrible dream or a bizarre reality, it really doesn’t matter. He’s here, and I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to throw myself at him and apologize until he believes it, but the other part of me is too scared to move. I murdered him, and now he has me right where he wants me. Is this whole thing just a ploy for him to get his own revenge?
“Youwere a good person,” I say gently. “Why are you in Hell?”
His jaw tenses at my question. “It isn’t about good or bad, not really. I was stuck there in that apartment for a couple years without you, unable to move on. The fucking family that moved in had their Christmas decorations up almost all year, and I was so fucking angry I was basically a beacon for a demon. She asked me if I wanted out, and I said yes. You’re not the only one who didn’t read the fine print.”
My stomach twists as I realize my crime was far worse than I thought. All of this, everything he’s been through, was my fault. I did this to him. Suddenly, a few years in prison doesn’t seem like enough.
“Adrian, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were coming over that night, I thought someone was breaking in.”
“I didn’t know I was going to either,” he replies, breaking our stare to walk past me. “I take it the cops never gave you your gift?”
“No,” I say without turning. Staring into black eyes instead of honey brown is overwhelming and strange, so I’ll take any excuse not to do it. “I called them the moment I realized it was you and they arrested me pretty much immediately.Apparently, if you want to claim self-defense, you have to try to run away first.”
Adrian hums, the clinking of glass reaching my ears and making me turn to see him pour himself a drink. “Well... there’s nowhere to run now, thanks to that contract you willingly signed.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask sharply. “You didn’t hold up your end of the bargain. You said you didn’t fuck him.”
He smirks, polishing off the amber liquid before sliding the cup along his granite countertop. “Oh, he was fucked alright, fucked with a demon cock as thick as an elephant’s leg. I ripped him in half just like you asked and watched him bleed out onto his disgusting brown rug after. He watched me take him in a mirror so he knew exactly what was happening to him, I just didn’t touch him with my dick. He wasn’t my type.”
“Wasn’t your... wait, whose cock did you use then? Do I belong to someone else now?”
“You belong tome,”he snaps, a dark energy radiating off of him as he closes the distance between us. “You’re mine until the end of time. You said you wanted him fucked with a demon cock, and I fucked him with a demon cock in every way butphysically. I can make you live any pleasure or pain I want to and you’d never know what was real or not real. I’ll show you.”
His hand shoots out to grip my throat, Hell fading away to a grungy alley as Adrian pumps in and out of me with his hand in the same position.MyAdrian.
There was nothing romantic about the way we met.
I was all dolled up, sure, but my mental state was shot. I’d just been stood up for the third time in a row and I’d had it. I just wanted to stop being a fucking virgin — I’d bought the hype that you should save yourself for marriage, then realized there wasn’t a man alive I’d tie myself to like that. And sex lookedfun.I wanted some of that for myself, so despite the pouring rain and incoming storm, I drove myself to the bar, ordered two shots of tequila, and decided I didn’t care what happened as long as I felt something. I was ready to fuck, fight, or do both. Dealer’s choice.
But I wasn’t the only one trying to drown my sorrows that night.
Adrian was babysitting a whisky with a black eye, split knuckles, and a scowl on his beautiful face. Curious, I raised my drink to my lips, and he did the same. We drank thatway for a while before he finally came over to talk to me, and I couldn’t bring myself to walk away no matter how many red flags he waved in my face.
Fuck or fight, remember?
Not ten minutes later, I was having the frustration fucked out of me in a soaking wet, dingy alleyway behind the bar. Adrian was powerful, strong, almost brutal. He fucked me like he hated everything I stood for as a storm raged around us, pulling two orgasms from me before he buried himself inside me and flooded my greedy little cunt with his cum.
I was surprised when he asked for my name after, and even more surprised when he asked if I wanted to do it again.
I don’t think he ever left after that night.
It was the night he became my favorite person, a night I frequently escape to when I miss his touch, and every detail of that first encounter is still clear in my mind.
It feels so real this time I forget that it isn’t. I feel his ragged breaths against my neck, feel the heat of his cock as he fucks me relentlessly against that cement wall, and just as I feel that first orgasm about to crest, it all disappears.
We’re back in Hell, my panties soaked, clit pulsing with desperation, and I don’t think he’s ever looked more pleased with himself.
“Did that feel real?”
My legs give out. I hit the ground hard, breaking my right kneecap open, but it doesn’t distract from anything I just felt.
It was as real as the night it really happened, and something about it made one thing extremely clear: this man hates me. He has every right to given what I did to him, but I’d gaslit myself into believing that if he was still out there somewhere, he’d know I didn’t mean it and he’d forgive me.
I was wrong.
And now, I’m trapped here with him because I was too fucking lazy to read the contract.
