Page 90 of Fragile Facade
I hold one of my knees and he holds the other, the two of us spiralling into new territory. Worship and praise, a place that comes with pleasure without despair, and a level of trust-building that scares me because it’s so natural. I lift my mask slightly so I can breathe easier, pressing my head to the mattress and barely refraining from moaning. His tongue delves into my hole, his stubble brushing against my skin, and the combination of rough and soft is so goddamn good I squeeze my eyes tighter.
“I knew you’d be needy, sweetheart. So fucking repressed.”
I pull him up my body, wrapping my legs around his waist. I’m tempted to kiss him, but I can’t. I can’t start craving kisses now when I’m already so fucking pliable beneath him. He grins at me, seeing the hesitation. He pulls my mask down for me, settling it over my face before doing the same to his.
“Who are we right now?” He grabs the lube and reaches between our bodies to lube his dick and my ass. “Riot and Ghost or Killian and Soren?”
I want to say Killian and Soren because it feels more sentimental, but I’m not a sentimental person and I need some barrier between him and my sensitive feelings. I touch his mask to give him my answer.
“Thought so,” he says, nudging my hole with his thick cock. “Ghost and Riot can fuck, but when you’re ready to admit how needy you are, Soren and Killian can have sex.”
I start to argue. He fucks me instead. Abruptly and without enough prep. The stretch and pressure feel good because it’s harsh amid gentleness, and I like the opposition.
Because we’re masked and need this, the ability to remind ourselves of who we are and give in to something that feels so good is humiliating.
There’s not much of a burn when he stretches me open this time, only a fullness that glues me back together and pulls me apart simultaneously. Every swivel of his hips sends a spark of fire through me, making me sweat and demand more. My fingers dig into his biceps, controlling him with a tight grip but wanting to give him free rein because, holy shit, he knows how to fuck.
Riot’s abs rub my dick between our bodies, sliding me up and down the bed with each thrust. I hate how close I already am, especially when I ignite in passion when he tilts himself to hit me at the exact right angle.
“Jesus,” I groan, eyes rolling.
“Riot,” he corrects. “Killian, if you’re honest.”
I am honest… in my head. “Shut up and fuck me.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
He’s such a prick that I enjoy it. His sweaty body glides with mine, his wounds forgotten as bliss and darkness take over. I don’t know what he’s thinking or if he’s remembering who he is, but I know I’m not thinking about anything other than taking everything he gives me. The absence of thought is almost peaceful.
I’m so close it’s discomforting, but I want to erupt right now. Letting my hand fall down his arm, I grab his wrist and bring his hand to my throat. I don’t want him to choke me or give me a head buzz by cutting off my blood flow, and somehow, he knows it because he doesn’t squeeze. I just want to feel his hand on me, letting my pulse beat out of control against his fingertips. Needing him closer, I wrap my legs around him tightly, dragging him in. His cock hits deep inside me, and he holds himself there, rocking without pulling out.
Somehow, it gets hotter and harder to hold off. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m gonna…” I almost wish our masks weren’t on so I could kiss him.
“Soren,” he says as he pulls out. “I fucking see you, too.” He thrusts back in.
I combust, grabbing my cock to jerk off as I come all over us. I moan louder than I ever have, unable to keep the music inside, releasing what feels like years of repression because… I finally found him. The person who is my match, like Remi said.
Killian Hallows.
Our masks clack together when he bows his head, grunting through his orgasm as his hips stutter and he fills me full. The old me would have felt defiled by his cum in my ass, but the new me feels cleansed. Of what, I don’t know. I’m too high to understand. All I know is that we’re wearing masks, but we aren’t Ghost and Riot.
“Holy fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps as he catches his breath.
Fuck my own rules. I rip his mask off and kiss him, but he laughs against mine. Goddammit. I push mine off, grab the back of his neck, and kiss him like I mean it. Mean…it.
“We gonna cuddle now?” he asks, pressing one more kiss to my lips.
A bite of embarrassment creeps up, but I don’t even know what I’m embarrassed about. “I made you a fucking smoothie. What more do you want? Jesus.”
Killian laughs as he rolls onto his back, his hand falling into mine and the world seeming alright.
33
WINNER TAKES RANK
RIOT
It chapsmy ass to stand at the end of the rank line. It chaps even more that everyone is laughing at us about it.
