His Little Secret

Hot shivers wrack me and I start tearing at his hair, frantic to reach the end, while also being terrified of the immensity of what my first orgasm will feel like. “I can be your little secret,” I sob, my words jumbled and almost incoherent. “I won’t tell, just don’t push me away.”

My climax grips me and I scream, drowning out whatever Mase said in response. It’s more monstrous and overwhelming than I could have dreamed, taking hold of my intimate muscles and strangling them with pressure, before soothing them with relief. I shake and squirm and whine my way to the end, batting at his shoulders with my palms, feeling the cascade of my own moisture coasting down my inner thighs.

I think I leave earth for a moment and when I return, Mase is slamming his broad inches into me, over and over again, his face screwed up with pain. “Here it comes. Take my come. Take it.” A hoarse sound leaves him and he stiffens, hot spend leaving him and filling me up. “Coat your fucking womb in it.”

This part of the act was something I never imagined. The rawness of taking his fluids into my own body. How fiercely possessed and owned and coveted it would make me feel, to be the keeper of the proof of his lust. Feeling his hot eyes raking me, I open my thighs wide as they’ll go and let him watch me take it greedily, milking his size with my inner walls and mewling my pleasure, my fingers twisting in my own hair. Reveling.

“FUCK.” His hips piston all the harder, splashing his desire everywhere, the wet sound filling the room along with his frantic grunts. “You beautiful little brat.”

He stills one final time, roaring up at the ceiling, and collapses on top of me.

My mind is reeling. My body? Forget about it? I can barely feel my legs.

I can only locate my lungs as they struggle to fill themselves.

There is a bone-deep satisfaction inside of me. A completion I never want to live without. And I won’t have to now, right? We made confessions to each other. He told me how much he’s wanted me and now that we’ve ripped off the Band-Aid of the forbidden, how can we ever stop? My body knows who it belongs to and so does my heart.

My optimism takes a nose dive a minute later when Mase lifts his head, his lips peeled back in a snarl. “Christ, Ripley,” he seethes. Facing away from me, he sits up on the edge of the bed and buries his head in his hands for several beats, sweat and nail marks decorating his tattooed back. Before I can ask him what he’s thinking, his hand shoots out like lightning, wrapping my hair in his fist and drawing me whimpering to my knees. I’m thrown face down across his lap before I can catch my breath, his hand raining down stinging slaps to my backside. He’s spanking me. Hard. “Are you happy now, you little liar? You’ve conned me into a ruining your life.” Smack. Smack. “Is that what you wanted?”

“You aren’t ruining anything,” I choke out, struggling to get away. The rebuke is turning me on, making my flesh clench and search for another invasion, but his anger, his words are causing my chest to cave in. “Uncle Mase! Stop!”

“See this?” He palms my right butt cheek, soothing the sting, before smacking another one into its place. “This is what I’ll do if you don’t answer your phone. If you smile at another man. If you’re late coming home. Did you think I’d be prince charming, sweetheart? No, I’m your fucking master. This is what you wanted. Right?”

Tears flood my eyes and drip down onto the carpet, the fight going out of me.

What he’s trying to tell me penetrates. He’s saying these things to scare me away, to make me sorry, maybe even to shatter my feelings for him. Doesn’t he realize nothing will accomplish that? I love him. I always will. And the fact that he’s trying to push me away after what we just shared, after I gave myself to him…it slices my heart straight down the middle.

He doesn’t feel the same way. I’m a nuisance to him.

Something he was trying to avoid.

My pitiful sob rends the air.

Mase’s body stiffens beneath me, his hand dropping lifeless to my lower back. “Ripley,” he says gruffly. “Sweetheart, I…” But I’m already scrambling off his lap and scouring the room for my robe, stupid hiccups tripping over my lips. I have to get out of here.

I find the blue silk and belt it around my sated body, lunging for the door—

He blocks my exit, his hands landing on the meat of my arms and holding me captive. Whatever he sees in my face leaves him stricken. “You’re not leaving like this.”