Page 13 of Masked March

I spin on my heel and march through the woods before I crumble.

Six

MELODY

By the time I’m tucked back in my bed, covers up to my ears, I can’t fall asleep. My eyes dart around the room, half expecting Lincoln to show up here.

Roy was proud to tell me the security officer had changed the codes to my elevator and apartment. I clutched the piece of paper he handed to me with the numbers like I may eat it afterward. Just to protect myself.

From myself mainly.

With a huff, I toss the blankets off and wander into my kitchen to make some chamomile tea. The thing is, I somewhathopeLink breaks in. Whatever he has planned for me, I deserve it.

Part of me was playing a game with him, knowing exactly how in love with me he was when he showed up in high school. My stomach did flips every time I saw him. We started hanging out more, thenmaking outin the supply closet or the dressing room at work. Perhaps it was the thrill of getting caught, but that added something spicier to the beginning.

As I slump on a kitchen stool, the steam from my mug hits my face, and I gaze into my blackened apartment. All the images of Link and I together flood my mind like a movie. One I haven’t wanted to watch in a long time because of the pain.

Things changed for me after only a little while of messing around with my childhood best friend. Maybe it was the way he’d look into my eyes while his fingers were deep inside me. Like he was someone who knew therealme. I started to not want him to leave after we were done.

He never made demands. He never asked if I could be with him during the day, in front of all my so-called friends. It wasmethat wanted it. I grew tired of hiding him and it wasn’t right; I knew that.

So when Homecoming came up, and he whispered in my ear that he wished he was taking me, I put a plan in place. I had the Reapettes write his name down for Homecoming King, hoping I could get everyone to vote for him.

Only things went south. Everyone thought it was a big joke, thathewas the punchline. The football players said they were going to pelt him with rotten tomatoes. That’s it. His white rented tux would get some stains on it, and he’d go away with a splattered ego. But when Bellany informed me of theirtrueplan, to beat him up for taking the crown away from Brad and trying to be with me, I decided to save him. And very publicly denounce him.

It didn’t work. They still hurt him after. And I don’t know if I can forgive myself.

Have I always had a thing for him? Yes. I even scoured the internet for years looking for him, but he was a ghost. No online presence at all. What would I have done if I’d found him?

Apologize. And probably do what I did on the fifty yard line tonight becausegod, I loved it.

When I slip back under my sheets, I feel sleepy enough to doze off. The screen in my mind won’t stop showing images of Link through the years. Things get confused between what is in my dreams and what is happening in the world outside of my shut eyes.

So when I feel my body being yanked forward, I startle, but wonder if I’m still asleep. Warm palms slides up my bare thighs, taking my nightgown with their climb up my body. Firm legs slip under me, lifting my core.

When I open an eye, I almost scream, but a hand grips my neck, squeezing the air from my lungs. “Time for payback, prom queen.”

Other than his mask and painted face, The Reaper stares down at me wearing nothing else. Black hair covers his ripped body in small tufts with a trail leading down to his engorged length. He’s an enormous man as I already could sense, but seeing him exposed is almost frightening. I squirm under his hold, but it only makes him clench his fingers together tighter. As I still, he relaxes until I pant out, “What are you doing?”

“Taking what’s mine.” His huge cock is already out, waiting for me and he grips the base and lines up. With a squeal, I wiggle my hips to draw away from him, but it’s no use. His fingers dig into my waist as he plunges inside with one sweep and I gasp at the intrusion.

I’m not a delicate flower and I’ve had plenty of men, but his girth is something I was not prepared for.

The breath is knocked from my lungs as I seize for air. He doesn’t move an inch, only holds himself as deep as he can while resting his hands on either side of my head and staring into my eyes as I struggle to adjust to his size.

Link’s hands move up to my breasts as he massages them, pinching and tweaking the nipples between his finger and thumb. I press on his chest as he leans forward to gather one between his lips. Even though I prepare to tell him to stop, nothing in me wants to, especially when his eyes glance up to my face. It’s like they not only seek approval, but dare me to argue with him indulging in what’s his. An expression that makes my clit pulse rapidly for him.

“Link…” I whisper, tossing my head back against the pillow, but he doesn’t respond. Arduously, he draws himself out and as much pain was there with him inside, it’s worse when he’s gone. “Reaper, please.”

His mouth makes its way to my neck where he growls. “You want me to pull out or put it inside you again?” The thick head of his dick rests right on my entrance, which squeezes in anticipation of his return.

I know what he’s doing. He’s going to make me say it out loud. That Iwantto be violated like this.

“Inside.”

With another formidable shove, he enters again and I surge forward, my fingers latching around his neck. I grunt as he chuckles, “That’s a good slut.”

His words almost send me over the edge, but when he lifts his hips to hit the spot deep inside that I need, I do. My thighs spasm as an orgasm rips through me so quickly, I’m almost embarrassed. Pleasure rampages like wildfire through my core until I squeeze my eyes closed and justfeel. Something I haven’t done in so long.

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