Masked (Royally Hot 2)

Fuck yeah.

“I own this,” I moved my hand down and gripped her ass, “and this,” I pinched her nipple, “and especially this,” I said, cupping her pussy, compressing her lips and clit in my hand, and penetrating her one more time. She was so wet that her pussy squelched when I fingered her. Sexiest sound she’d made yet. “Get ready, baby. You’re about to get fucked.”

Chapter 14

Iris

He dragged a table over and hoisted me up onto it, still with my arms chained to the wall. He was rough with me; he didn’t hold me tenderly and carefully like he had before. More than ever, I was aware of his enormous strength. Now in his hands, I felt like an object, like a tool for his pleasure. His raw power was so intimidating that I couldn’t even speak.

And yet.

And yet…this wasn’t the life-or-death fear I’d felt earlier when those men threatened me, or even the blinding fear I felt for my father. This had a different shape, a different texture. It was a different sensation completely.

More like an ocean that I wanted to fall into rather than a flood I needed to escape. Like wildfire licking a mountainside, close enough to be dangerous but not so close as to make me think about my own death.

Sheer terror was cold; but when I looked at Randal, all I felt was hot. Hot like a sunburn, hot like a too-warm bath. Bearable, but only if I had enough courage to take it.

I can take it. I know I can. I will show him just how strong I am.

That heat intensified my desire and made me want him even more. Such a sinful feeling—wanting to feel afraid, wanting to fear his power. It made me forget my worries and my cares, I should have been ashamed that it pushed away the horror of all I’d seen and experienced today. And yet it felt so very right.

Even unaware completely of where I was, I trusted Randal. Even after seeing such horrors, I was calmed by him. I would follow him into hell if he led the way, and I’d know that I was safe.

He stripped off his shirt but left on his pants and his boots. He was in complete control of me—and of this situation; his movements were confident and practiced. I glanced around, wondering for just one moment how many women had been here before.

He turned to face me.

“You’re the only one, before you ask. This is all for you.” He slipped off his belt and unfastened the top few buttons of his pants, allowing more room for his already-bulging cock. Hooking one finger over the waistband, he studied me silently. “Everything, since the first moment I saw you, has been for you. Even before that, when I didn’t know why I was doing it, I was doing it for you.”

I swallowed hard. I had a thousand questions for him.

Who am I to you? How do you know me? Why did you choose me for all of this?

I had so many questions, so many doubts, but something in Randal’s eyes made it clear that now wasn’t the time to ask. This wasn’t going to be some hurried roll in the hay, either.

This was artful.

Strategic.

Randal had a plan for me. And I was his to be taken.

He spread my legs on the edge of the table, buckling each of my calves to the table legs, adjusting the straps so they wouldn’t pinch my bruised ankle. I sucked in a quick breath of surprise at the coldness of the metal buckles on my skin. It aroused me, that cold metal, so different from the warmth of his rough fingertips. He was close enough that I could smell his musky, salty, manly scent—it triggered something inside me, some kind of animal need.

Inhaling long and slow, I shifted my hips and eased into my restraints. Once my knees were spread wide and my sex was on display, he stood back and gave me an approving stare.

“Fuck, yeah, Iris. I’ve imagined you like this so many times.”

“I’ll do anything you ask,” I replied, and wondered momentarily if it was a game and I was already playing it without even knowing the rules. It didn’t matter. It was us, and I was determined to enjoy every moment. “Anything. I just want you inside me.”

“That so?”

There was an edge of anger in his eyes, in the set of his teeth, but his lips curled in an unbidden smile. God, how I was drawn to him. All of him, the anger too. Randal’s anger made my father’s look like a joke. I wanted to feel his anger, I wanted to play with it. I wanted to go there and come back again. What I wouldn’t give to play with that fire, to learn to be strong in the face of my fear.