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Scream For Us (Holiday Masked Men #1)(4)

Author:Molly Doyle

The truth is, I’m wetter now than I’ve ever been in my life.

“Very,” I whisper.

“Fuck,” he grunts, tightening his grasp on my face, squishing my cheeks. “Even through this mask I can already smell how sweet you are. I want a taste.”

My knees are only moments from buckling. My entire body begins to quiver. My face fills with heat.

Somehow, my darkest fantasies, that I figured I could only dream or read about, have the power to come to life right before my eyes.

“Such a pretty mouth. Put it to good use.” He traces my bottom lip with his thumb, cocking his head to the side. “Tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you.”

And finally, I let go wholeheartedly.

“You,” I answer.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” I softly reply. “I want you to bring my darkest fantasies to life.”

“Darkest,” he echoes, hesitating. “I can imagine my dark is far different than yours, sweetheart.”

“Dark,” I emphasize. “But there’s one condition.”

Placing his hand on my chest, he moves me backward, pinning me to the wall. Lightly wrapping his fingers around my throat, he presses down, making it a challenge for me to swallow.

“Tonight,” I rush out, grasping his wrist. “Just one night.”

“One night?”

“Yes. By sunrise, it’s over.”

He laughs, with no humor intended. “You say that so easily, like it’s possible for me to let you go.”

“Well, that’s my condition,” I press.

“Even if it’s for tonight, and tonight only, little Quinn,” he hesitates, spreading my legs with his knee. “You’ll still always be mine.”

Blinking up at him, I say nothing.

“Mercy,” he lets out. “Beg me for mercy if my dark is too much for you to bear.”

With that, Ghost releases me, and I gasp for air, watching as he removes the belt of his robe. I try to imagine what hides beneath the long, draped sleeves and shredded fabric of his costume.

“Face the wall,” he instructs.

And I hesitate, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Quinn,” he warns, his voice low. Tight. “You asked for dark. Don’t forget that.”

Turning on my heel, I stare at the wall, bracing myself for the unknown. Terrified, yet thrilled at the same time. Adrenaline pumps like nitrous through my veins. I want this.

I need this.

He lets out a sharp breath. “Hands against the wall.”

Pressing my palms against the cold, hard surface, a chill creeps down my spine.

My instinct is telling me to run. Far, far away.

Except my arousal is evident. My nipples are puckered into hard, red buds. My pale skin is flushed. My breathing is shallow. My thighs are slick, and my body is begging to be railed. Destroyed. In every way.

But not just by anyone.

By him.

Ghost.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and I can almost feel his gaze burning through the back of my skull.

“Yes,” I answer softly.

“Foolish, little Quinn,” he taunts me, brushing my hair behind my shoulder, exposing my neck. “Wrong answer.”

I frown, questioning my morals.

It’s Halloween. Reckless. Be reckless, I encourage myself.

Without giving it any more thought, I spin around until I’m facing him, defying his orders entirely. He towers over me, even with the added inches of my heels, making me feel so powerless in his presence. So weak, and defenseless.

It’s disturbing, yet so hot it has my mouth salivating. I’m dying to know what it feels like to be his.

“I want you,” I admit, pleading with my eyes for him to act on it. “Right now.”

Ghost leans into me, pressing my back to the wall. “So eager,” he says, as I wait impatiently for him to finally remove his mask. He drapes the belt of his costume over his shoulders and slips off his black, leather gloves.

And those hands.

They’re huge, thick, and veiny. It’s uncanny how wide his palm is and how long his fingers are. He’s not a boy. He’s a man, in every sense of the word.

A God.

The Devil, maybe.

My imagination wanders…

He tosses his gloves to the floor, and retrieves the belt, holding it out before me at eye level. “Close your eyes,” he orders.

I obey, feeling the soft fabric as it rests over my eyelids, cutting out the dim light.

He slips his hand between my thighs, massaging my clit over the thin fabric, making me squirm. “Such a good girl.”

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