Page 65 of Bruised

Mason takes a step toward me, and I gulp as he lifts his hand and thumbs at my choker, tracing the black velvet band all the way back to my neck. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and I close my eyes, shivering all over. Why does he have this effect on me even when I’m pissed at him?

When he speaks, his voice is sultry and low, full of dangerous promises. “Tomorrow, I’ll leave a few gifts under your pillow. I want you to wear them tomorrow night.”

Oh. Relief, anticipation, and anxiety swirl through me in equal measure. Relief, because he still wants me. Anticipation, for what he’s planning. And anxiety, for everything else: our secrecy, his increasing control over me—my feelings, my body, what happens between us and when—and the lack of control I seem to hold over him.

I wanted this, I remind myself. I wanted to be used and taken roughly, like that boy in the porno, but I can’t push away the feeling that I’m giving Mason so much of myself, crossing so many of my boundaries, while he gives me very little in return. What he does give is so conditional, it’s a whisper and a shadow of what he expects me to give him.

23. EARNED IT

Oliver’s bright smile greets me when I open my eyes. “Hey, sleepyhead. Up late last night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I grumble, rubbing a hand over my face.

I was awake for hours, thinking about—yeah, you guessed it—Mason. A night without him means I’m unable to come, and as a result, unable to sleep. Not to mention how wrong and empty it feels not to sneak into his room at night and have him call me puppy and whisper all sorts of filthy things in my ear while he fucks me silly.

Even though he pisses me off, I still want him. I still need him. And if that’s not what you call humiliating, I don’t know what is.

“What do you want to do today?” Oliver asks.

“Maybe… try that boss again?”

We’ve failed several times to kill this high-level boss, and we’re both eager for the loot it’ll drop. Besides, I need something fun to get me through the day. That, and an energy drink to stop me from feeling half dead.

When we get down to the kitchen, Mason is nowhere to be seen. The repeated thuds from the garage tell me he’s working out. Fine. It’s better not to see him than to deal with him ignoring me.

He said he’d leave me gifts today, but I’m guessing they won’t be there until the evening. I have to make the day pass without them.

Fuck, I just… I just want him to call me puppy again. I don’t know when it happened, and I don’t know why, but somewhere along the way, it started to feel good when he called me that, and not just degrading or embarrassing. It started to feel… tender. Like he cared about me. I hope he still does.

I ruminate on this for the rest of the day, and by evening, I’m ready to drop right into bed from exhaustion. Oliver is brushing his teeth, and when I lie down on my bed to wait for my turn in the bathroom, I notice something hard poking the back of my neck.

I lift the pillow to discover a black velvet box with a red ribbon tied around it.

My gifts.

My breath hitches in anticipation as I open the lid.

A silky fabric lines the inside of the box, and nestled in the middle is a choker with a black velvet band—much like the one I’m wearing, but instead of a silver ring, there’s a solid black heart at its center.

Oh.

Oh.

A feeling I can’t describe settles in the pit of my stomach, sending my ears buzzing and my mind reeling.

This isn’t just a gift; coming from him, it’s a challenge. Want to prove you’re mine? Then wear this.

Beneath the choker is another box. In it, there’s a small bottle of lube and a black silicone sex toy. It looks like a butt plug, but it’s shaped a little differently; it’s curved rather than straight and bulbous. My cheeks flame just looking at it.

“I want you to wear them tomorrow night.”

My body goes all hot and tingly with want. So he wants me to wear both the choker and the plug… Fuck. My hands are shaking as I shove the box back under my pillow just in time before Oliver returns from the bathroom. We go to bed as usual and turn off the light, but my mind is racing, and I’m rock hard just thinking about what’s going to happen tonight.

An hour later, I show up outside Mason’s room after a detour to the bathroom. The butt plug was a bit of a struggle to insert; I had to use my fingers to stretch myself out first and smear plenty of lube on the tip of the plug to guide it in without pain. The curved shape means it nudges my prostate with every step I take, and my cock twitches in response.

By the time I’m opening Mason’s door, my boxers are wet with precum, and I’m ready to explode. Maybe he’ll jerk me off before we get started, like he did that one time. I hope so; I need it.

I clipped his choker around my throat in the bathroom. The black heart hangs below a thick velvet band, swinging gently whenever I bend forward.