Page 49 of Shadowed With Fear

You are. Well, not yet.

“That’s my girl,” his fingers curl, rubbing the same circles against the front wall as he had done on my clit.

“Shadow, yes. Fuck–please. So good, so fucking good. I can’t–” My whole body shakes with the need to cum. I begin to rock my hips against his hand. The ring on his thumb glides across my clit, once, twice…

“Atta girl. Such a good little flower. Bloom for me, Dahlia. Take what you need, baby. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”

Something inside of me snaps. My head is thrown back by the force of my orgasm ripping through me. There aren’t any fireworks or stars in front of my eyes. It’s black, pitch black. My ears ring. My body convulses, back arching, but Shadow never stops. He wrings my body of every wave of pleasure it can produce.

My heart pounds in my ears, my breathing shallow, as he slows the thrusts of his fingers. It takes me a moment to realize he is caressing my throat with the hand still gripping me–holding me, and he’s murmuring.

“So, well–so goddamn beautiful–mine–fuck the others–not going anywhere–so fucking good–mouthwatering–tight–perfect–perfect fucking woman–”

“Shadow–”

“Shh. Relax. I’m not done yet.” Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, moving the hand from my throat to the bottom of his mask.

“Shadow! What’re you–”

He lifts his mask over his chin, revealing a side of a devilish smirk on his lips just as his fingers dip into his mouth. His groan is just as deep as the animalistic growl. It sounds wounded, weakened. As if his enjoyment is as much as punishment.

“Fuuuck me,” he whimpers. His hands grab my leg, wrenching it over his shoulder as he lowers himself to my center.

“No, wait. No, you don’t–”

Thwack!

“Shut up, Dahlia. I said I’m not fucking done with you, this delicious fucking cunt, and the sexy fucking sounds you make. Be the good slut I know you are and let me taste you.”

Grayson

Holy shit. Oh, my fuck. Holy fucking shit.

I never thought—never dreamed—it’s happening.

Fuck me. She looks like a goddamn deity. Hair spread around her beautiful face, hazel eyes glassy and hazed looking at me like I’m a god. He tits bounce with every labored breath rising he chest. She so flushed, the pink hue coloring her gorgeous body like the most priceless painting in the world. I could stare at her like this for hours, days, years.

I want to touch and kiss every inch of her. All her little imperfections that make her her. That has made Dahlia into who she is. This glorious creature I do not deserve.

And fuck. The way she tastes. The way she smells.

Sweet and spicy unlike anything else I have experienced. Exactly like her.

It’s not the most comfortable feeling in the world, but my lips trace the dip in her hip under my mask. I have it pulled back just enough that she can’t see it’s me, and I don’t think she’s seen my lip ring.

I don’t like her not knowing it’s me. I don’t like this uneasiness I feel in my chest every time I lie to her about who I am. But what am I supposed to do? Not only do I know she’d cut my balls off for it being me, but we swore to not tell anyone who we are. We can’t let anyone get hurt because of what we’re doing. We’ve made enough enemies so far; the list of possible suspects would be few and far between.

“Shadow,” she whispers above me. Her voice has gone husky, and the sound alone has my cock weeping. Forget hard. I’m two seconds from coming at this point. One touch from her and it’s fucking over for me.

My phone rings.

Her head snaps toward my jacket where my mission phone is wailing in its high-pitched tone.

“Fuck,” I mumble rising from my position between her thighs. The sight of her splayed out before me nearly kills me. I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“Hang on.”

I jerk my hoodie off the chair, the front pocket snagging on the arm. A sharp rip echoes through the room making me growl. My hand wraps around my phone and I bring it to my ear harshly.