Masquerade - Page 18

Ten

I'm pulled abruptly from a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep. My body feels like lead, I can barely open my eyes, but the fear is immediate. Something is wrong. Like an animal I smell the danger. I didn’t close the balcony door.

Someone is on my bed!

My eyes jerk open. It is too dark to see. I'm being turned over as though I'm weightless. I open my mouth to scream and something soft is stuffed into my mouth. My body goes into shock and I freeze. During those precious moments of inaction the man straddles my body on my thighs and pins my arms down and over my head.

I start struggling.

But he already has the upper hand and he does nothing, only stays motionless and watches my useless struggles. My brain suddenly understands. He is just trying to tire me. I immediately cease struggling. My whole body is trembling violently with fear. I try to speak around the gag, but only strange guttural sounds escape.

‘Shut the fuck up…’ he says, and pulls both my hands together and, trapping them with just one hand, takes his other hand into my nightgown. He touches me between my legs. I shudder with fear and horror.

Roughly, he tears away the scrap of material between him and me and I start screaming my lungs out, but the sounds that come out will not carry. They are muffled and grunt-like.

I try to pull my thighs together, but it is impossible because he is sitting on them. Enjoying my total helplessness, he lifts himself momentarily to part my legs farther and I take that opportunity. With a burst of sudden strength I roll to the other side of the bed and spring out.

My only thought is escape.

I run toward the door. I know I won’t make it to the front door and then try to mess around with the locks. If I can just get to the kitchen I can grab a knife. He bolts after me. I can hear him.

I am at the dining table when he captures my upper arms and whirls me around to face him. He presses my body against him and catches my wrists and holds my hands high above my head. I’m not a black belt in judo or anything but I do know exactly how to disengage a man. I bring my knees upward but he pushes his hips back so I miss him, lose balance and stagger. He twirls me around.

He has the advantage of brute strength, but it is so dark in the dining room with all the curtains pulled shut that it is very hard to make anything out. That is my advantage. I know my house far better than he.

I lunge suddenly for the large, antique bronze clock that Lana bought for me and heave it toward me. The weight of it makes me collapse in a heap, the clock hitting the floor with an almighty crash. The thunder of its crash is obscene in the terrible silence of our struggle.

The silhouette falls on top of me and curls his hands around my throat and starts choking. A whisper, chillingly close, says, ‘Do not move.’

On my hands and knees, I freeze. He stops choking me. The ticking of the clock becomes so loud, I need to distract him. I let out the breath I am holding.

The clock is still gripped hard in my hands. I know I don’t have the strength to swing the clock but if I turn around suddenly I can smash my heel into his jaw. I feel a surge of adrenalin.

‘You should not have run. You should have accepted your fate…in your bed.’

I turn my head slowly in the direction of his voice. He is masked. A frighteningly white mask. It gleams in the gloom. I cannot breathe for the gag. He does not want money. I have only one thought in my head. I must find some way…

The man tilts his head. ‘I have a knife.’

I make a small begging sound.

He fists my hair and lifts my face off the floor. ‘You are going to be raped.’

In an instant I grasp the true horror of my situation. I am totally helpless.

‘No!’ I scream, summoning all my strength. He pins me down with his body. Then every sound becomes amplified a thousand times in my head. A trouser zip being undone. The white mask falls close to my face. Before I can look up a blindfold is put over my eyes and tied behind my head. He doesn't want me to see his face, to call out, spoil his fun. Never before have I been blindfolded and gagged in the dark. I thrash out with my hands and he bites my shoulder. The pain makes me cry out but it also forces me to submit to his greater force. I am his captive. The more I struggle the more I am going to be hurt.

He presses his hand down on my back just below my shoulder and pulls my T-shirt nightie from under me. He tears it in two and exposes my buttocks and my back. I close my eyes when I feel his hard shaft released and pressing on the small of my back. I can smell him now. A man’s smell. Raw. A mixture of sweat and leather. The gag in my mouth is wet with my saliva.

Quickly he clasps his strong forearms around my waist and hoists my ass in the air, before parting my legs forcefully. Wasting no time, a massive cock is being forced inside me with such violence that I feel it tear me as it just keeps feeding into me, mercilessly stretching and going deeper and deeper, reaching right into my womb. I grunt when it finally can go no farther. There is a button or zipper caught between me and his body that scratches my thigh every time he moves. I block it out.

Then the pummeling begins.

He rides me relentlessly with brute force. I feel his sweat dripping onto my naked skin. He reminds me of an express train that is out of control. I am driven into so hard and fast that I cannot stop myself from being aroused in spite of myself. From wanting it. From moaning. From climaxing.

Over and over.

His huge cock, throbbing, pulsating inside me suddenly shoots a hot stream up deep into my sex and his bulk collapses on top of me. We are both panting hard. My body is trembling, my sex still quivering with the pounding it has just received. He rolls off me easily and lies beside me, facing the ceiling.

‘Is that what you wanted?’ he asks.

I turn over so I too am facing the ceiling. ‘You ought to be careful. I was going to stab you with a kitchen knife.’

He chuckles. ‘Is that how you reward someone who brings your most secret fantasy to life?’

I turn to my side and kiss him on the lips. ‘Thank you. That is one hell of a fuck. I will never forget that one. I loved being raped by you.’

‘When did you know it was me?’

Tags: Georgia Le Carre Erotic
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