Page 133 of Masked Sins
He lets me go, and I do as he says, turning around and lying down in front of him. His eyes study me from head to toe, lazily taking in every inch. I nearly gasp at the way his eyes are perusing me, appraising me …
On instinct, I bring my arms across my chest and start to cross my legs, but his hand jerks forward—forcefully spreading my legs.
“Don’t hide yourself. Not in front of me.”
I slowly remove my arms from my breasts, letting them fall to the side.
His eyes darken, two smoldering flames as he looks down at me. I take a deep, calming breath to settle my racing heart, but it doesn’t help.
“Are you going to behave?” he asks, crawling between my legs.
“Y-yes, Master.”
“Good.” One of his hands comes to my inner thigh, and my whole body lights up. I circle my hips once, urging him to move his hand where I need it the most.
“Ah, ah, you said you’d behave,” he growls.
The playful reprimand coming from him makes me whimper.
He’s reduced me to a wanton sex machine.
“Stay still,” he murmurs, a piece of hair falling over his forehead as he gives me a seductive smile.
“I—”
He slides his middle finger into me, curling it against my inner walls.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as I clench around his finger, needing more.
“Mm. You have such a greedy little cunt. I bet it tastes good, too.”
“Fuck—”
“I love hearing filthy words come from your mouth.” He slides his finger out, and then drives it back into me so hard that the knuckles from his other fingers press against my pelvic bone and pull against my piercingjustso. It’s a sharp sensation, not quite painful, butheavyand unexpected.I contract around his finger three times. “In fact, I want you to tell me exactly what you want from me tonight using the filthiest words you can think of. Call it your first assignment as my submissive. If you’re good, I’ll do every single thing.”
I see stars as he pulls his finger out and adds a second. Pleasure sizzles down my spine, causing my legs to tingle and my hands to go momentarily numb.
“I c-can’t.”
He removes his fingers, and a high-pitched whine escapes my lips. “Can’t? Or won’t? Come on, Layla.I know what kinds of books you read, remember?”
Shit.
He scissors his fingers inside me, and my body goes taut.
“You like that? Tell me what you want.”
White-hot embarrassment flushes through me when I think of what I want from him. But I also know he’s going to make me say it, one way or another.
I’m beginning to realize that a big part of sado-masochism is akin to torture.
“I want your mouth on me.”
“On your what?”
I growl with frustration as his fingers slip out of me. He places them between his lips and… sucks them clean.
“Fuck, Layla. I knew you’d taste good, but not this good.” He reaches forward and places those same two fingers against my lips. I can smell myself—a sweet and tangy scent that makes me rear my head back slightly. “Go on, taste yourself.”
