Page 6 of Masked March

I went to law school for fuck’s sake. Maybe I should never have returned to Crystal Frond. But my mom needed me to help take care of Dad before he passed away from dementia. And then she died from heart disease a year later. I guess I could always leave.

But I love it here. I just wish… wish they’d all forget.

The curtain draws back and I snap my head up to tell Cindy or whoever to leave. My lungs lose their air in the startled gasp I make.

A very tall masked man stands in front of me wearing a green hoodie and black jeans. His broad shoulders block the doorway as he fills the tiny room. My back hits the wall as I stumble to get away from him, but there’s nowhere for me to go.

Through blurry vision, I make out that his mask is actually a skeleton only covering his eyes and nose. His jawline, mouth, and cheeks are painted to look like one. Despite the thickness of his clothing, his frame is muscular and foreboding.

He’s the man from my dream.

“Wha—who are you?” My voice is frail, half whispered.

Black painted lips slide into a sly grin, but he doesn’t speak. With cautious steps, he inches closer. One broad hand extends and I think about slapping it away, but I’m too afraid to do anything other than stand. His arm slips around my waist as he hauls me into his hard body.

The eyes are painted black beneath his mask as well, but the bright green of his irises is more mesmerizing than his mask. Leaning over my neck, his heated breath warms the skin on my neck as a deep, gravelly voice rings out, “The Reaper.”

With a gasp, I grip his jeans loops tighter. “Do-do you mean me? Mel the Reaper?”

He huffs a chuckle out and places his lips against where my pulse is pounding with a torrent of blood near my throat. Speaking into my skin, he says, “No.YourReaper. Come to give you the punishment you deserve.”

As I stifle a moan, he delves into my neck and lets his mouth cling to the skin there, sucking it hard inside. I choke a swallow and he bites me. My hands make it up to his corded chest and push, but it’s impossible to move him. He’s a fortress.

When I try to twist from his hold, he only grips my thigh and brings it up around his waist until my core throbs against his. And he’ssohard and I’m terrifyingly needy. With one hand, I tug off his hood and he lets me, black hair topping the shaved sides of his head. A tattoo of a Grim Reaper laces up behind one of his ears.

Pulling away, I try to feel his mask. He grips my hand and tugs me closer until I’m hitched completely around his waist and have to cling to his neck to hold on. His hardness beneath his belt presses me against the wall and I hump him like a teenager. Like when I used to work here and made out with nerdy Lincoln Pierce.

“You were such a good girl, obeying my instructions. Hopefully, you learn to follow more, if you know what’s good for you.”

Just as I feel the heat rising deep within my belly, the masked man digs his fingers between us and loosens my trouser button. Even though I grab his wrist, I’m not really sure I want him to stop. His green eyes penetrate my face as he crawls his fingers deeper, underneath my pants. “Fuck, yes. Good. You listened… Although I was hoping you’d wear the gift I left you.”

My nails dig into his skin as I realize… “You came in my thong?”

His white teeth flash with a smile as he slips his digits between my pussy lips. “Yes. The thought of you wearing my come so close to you all day made me so fucking hard.” A whimper erupts from my lungs as he plunges two fingers inside me. “So fucking wet.”

Some murmurs outside the room catch my attention. “They could hear us!”

The Reaper places his lips over my ear and murmurs, “Let them. I want them to fucking hear you scream as I make you erupt.”

And he does… with not much effort. It’s as if he knows how lonely I’ve been. How desperate for touch. My heels dig into his butt while I writhe on his shaft hidden just underneath his jeans. He’s well endowed, I feel it. And I want it.

“Scream for me, prom queen.”

A mixture of shock and pleasure rips through my body. The feeling of his foreign fingers forcing the orgasm from me makes things even hotter. He’s a complete stranger. And anonymous. Despite trying to hold the sound in, it escapes until I’m wailing out into the store.

In a split second, he sets me upright and vanishes behind the curtain, while I slump onto the chaise.

“Mel? Are you okay?” Shonda doesn’t really ask it as a question. More like knowing what I’ve been up to. The worst day of my life in high school was when Cindy and Bellany found me with Lincoln in here. My reputation was nearly tarnished for life.

“Ye-yes, I’m fine. Don’t think I’ll be buying today, sorry.” Hurriedly, I pull myself together and dart from the store as the old crew of snooty-nosed women gape at me. I’m sure my hair and face give everything away.

My heart rate still hasn’t calmed down by the time I make it home, kicking off shoes and tossing off my clothes. The panty drawer of my dresser is cracked. Maybe I left it that way, but I sneak over to it to take a peek.

When I open the tops ones, new lingerie from an expensive brand spills from inside along with handfuls of rose petals. A trail of the delicate red flower leads toward the bed…

Where I spy another envelope that says,

Ready or not. Here I come…

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