Page 27 of Under the Bed

Logically, I know the mask isn’t responding to my movements. I know there’s no one behind it.

I give it—to him—everything I have just the same.

This is my reality. This kiss. This desire. I surrender to him, darting my tongue out to swipe along the seam of his lips.

A sting on my bottom lip. It’s him. He’d bite me. Heisbiting me, right here, right now.

Sharp, imaginary teeth sink into my flesh and, fuck, I’m soaked.

The closet is too small. My clothes are too tight. Shame, guilt, and my feral needs make a heady concoction.

Let me taste you.

My eyes snap open at the command, staring into the darkness.

Normally, this is as far as my twisted mind would go. I kiss him when I’m lonely. That’s it. A kiss.

But—

Let me taste you.

It’s louder the second time around. Rough and commanding in my head. Thunder cracking in the skies. A hand wrapped around my throat.

“T-taste what?”

It doesn’t escape me that I’m talking to a mask.

I’ve been spiraling for eleven years, and it’s getting worse. Fast.

Maybe once I finish my master’s, I’ll have the right tools to handlethis. The craving. The way my sanity slips as I let these moments consume me.

Today, I’m helpless to fight it. The tide is sweeping me away. Pulling me under.

Your pussy. Let me taste your pussy.

I whimper, my hands trembling.

Now.

“Okay.”

Good girl.

Some lines can’t be uncrossed.

Some actions can never be justified.

Lying down and pulling my jeans and panties down while I hang onto Kaleb’s mask is something I can never come back from.

That’s it. You’re doing so well. Take it all off for me.

Cool air grazes my naked core, and I gasp. My heels dig into the floor.

A pause. This is it. My last attempt to put an end to this debauchery.

Have no doubt, I’ll find you, Shiloh. I’ll punish you for making me wait tonight. For holding back on me. You’ll be begging formercy, and I’ll remind you of this moment. What a brat you’ve been. I’ll remind you how you wouldn’t let me eat your cunt in painful, cruel ways. You’ll be screaming by the time I’m done with you.

What is this voice? My imagination?

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