Get out

"Get on the bed."

I froze. "You... aren't you going to take off your mask?"

"No," his answer was immediate. Final.

"But..."

His eyes sparked with irritation. "Another word of protest, and I will have you escorted out. Do as I say, or get out. Is that clear?" His tone wasn't loud or threatening, but it immediately sent a ripple of fear... and desire through me.

I was terrified. Not by him, but by the fact that I actually wanted this. By the fact that it felt like walking away from this would feel more like a loss than a gain on my end.

"Get on the bed," he repeated as he stripped off his shirt, and I swear I lost my ability to breathe.

Holy. Shit.

I shamelessly froze there, checking him out. His body was carved by the devil himself, every muscle lethal, pulling me in.

I turned and slowly made my way to the bed, every step slightly heavier than the last filled with hesitation, as I slowly lowered myself onto it, still feeling his eyes tracking my every step.

When I finally laid back, his voice came again, calm but commanding.

"Place your hands above your head. And they should not move," he added. "Not once. Do you understand?"

What?

"Do. You. Understand?" he repeated, each word slower, heavier than the last. The sharpness in his tone immediately striking the answer out of me. "Ye-yes."

As if my body had already surrendered to him, it obeyed before my mind could catch up. My hands lifted slowly above my head as he stepped closer, towering over me.

He smiled in a twisted way.

I saw it in his eyes... the hunger. The way he stared at my breasts like they were his to devour. His eyes drifted down between my thighs, where I was already dripping with anticipation for him.

"Already wet...? And I haven't even touched you."

My cheeks turned red from embarrassment... then his finger sank into me, curling, and a cry escaped my lips before I could bite it back. My body arched instinctively under his rhythm.

Another finger followed, stretching me slowly, and a broken sound slipped from my lips, raw, helpless. My body tightened helplessly, the tension building and building until release rushed through me, a sudden wave that left me trembling beneath him.

I was still catching my breath when his voice came again, darker in the form of a whisper. "You begged for this," he murmured against my ear, as he slowly bit my earlobe, causing a heated sensation between my thighs.

A sudden thrust ripped through me, forcing a breathless gasp from my lips as my body tightened beneath him. But when he pulled back and moved in again... slower, deeper this time-the pain dulled, blurring into heat. The ache twisting into pleasure.

My moans became louder with every thrust, the sound filling the room as he set a brutal rhythm. He stretched me, filled me, each movement harder and faster until my body writhed beneath his.

I was drowning in him.

The way his body claimed mine without mercy. I lost control, my body reacted before my mind could stop it.

My hand lifted without thinking, gripping him desperately to anchor myself. But then the edge of his mask slipped slightly. For a split second, I saw the sharp line of his jaw. I was almost about to see the face behind the mask... Then he grabbed my wrist.

He immediately tore himself away from me, and before I could say anything to explain myself, his voice cut through the silence again. This time his next words shocked me.

"Get out."

Everything inside me seemed to stop for a moment. My body still hummed from the tension, my skin buzzing with heat, and yet my heart felt stung from humiliation. I didn't think. I didn't protest. I just moved.

The tears I held back slightly blurred my vision slightly, as I forced my trembling hands to grab my clothes scattered across the room floor. Fumbling with bras and leggings, trying to pull them on as fast as I could.

I could still feel his eyes on me the whole time, as if he were staring a hole into the back of my head. My heart pounded; I could hear my own ragged breaths.

As I shoved into my blazer and zipped my boots, I felt his eyes on me, and yet I couldn't bring myself to look. I was too raw, too embarrassed to argue, to even question.

I stumbled toward the exit, still half-dressed and barely stable. Passing by the bar, the bartender's voice drifted to me over the music and murmurs.

"I warn them," he said casually still polishing a glass, eyes flicking toward the back booth, "but they never listen."

I didn't stop. I just nodded vaguely, cheeks burning up, as I slipped out into the night... Never listen. Yeah, that's me. Always diving headfirst without thinking things through.