Page 12 of Watch Me Burn
The mask keeps his secrets locked away. He could tell me his name and let me see the face that haunts my dreams. Instead, he feeds me darkness, and I swallow it whole, starving for more.
Damien tries to surface in my thoughts, but I bury him where he belongs. Not now. Not when my wolf stands before me like some dark god, beautiful and fierce behind that mask, danger radiating from every muscle, and looking at me like I’m his next meal.
This moment belongs to the man who makes me forget every rule I’ve ever lived by. Sanity feels overrated when he’s close enough to touch, all power and control and dark promise.
He scoops up the cats sprawled across my comforter, their sleepy protests cut short by a sharp snap of his fingers toward the hallway.
“Out. What I’m about to do to her is not for your innocent wolfy eyes.”
Shadow exits the room without hesitation, and my other wolf closes the door behind him. My heartbeat echoes in the sudden quiet.
“Take off your clothes.” He moves to the foot of the bed again. “Then lie back.”
The command flows through my bloodstream like liquid fire. My heart skips, then races, a flutter beneath my ribs as my fingers find the first button of my pajama top. The smooth plastic slips against my fingertips once, twice, before I manage to work it free.
“Slowly. We’re in no rush, little doe.”
The air between us thickens. I draw a steady breath and fight to still my trembling hands. The second button slides free, then the third, each release punctuated by the taut flex of his jaw beneath the mask.
The fabric whispers against my skin as I roll my shoulders, letting it slip down my arms and pool behind me. Cool air dances across my bare nipples, and I suck in a breath. A strangled sound escapes him. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and those dangerous hands curl against his thighs.
I hold his stare as I inch down the mattress, kicking away the tangled sheets. My thumbs hook into the waistband of my pajama bottoms, and I arch my back, sliding them past my hips and down the length of my legs until nothing remains between us but air and want.
I settle against the pillows and let my knees drift apart. His eyes burn through the mask’s slits, and a dark heat pulses between my legs. The outline of his cock pressing against his jeans becomes more pronounced, and want coils in my belly.
“Touch yourself.” His voice cracks with impatience.
My hand brushes over my stomach before dipping between my thighs, finding warmth and wetness waiting for me there. My fingers drown in the slick evidence of my arousal, gliding through the most sensitive part of me with ease.
I circle my clit, teasing myself, awakening every nerve. Each slow pass sends sparks up my spine.
“Like this?”
My breath stutters, and my head falls back against the pillows, baring my throat to him as I surrender to the sensation.
“Just like that.”
The words sound painful through the deep growl rumbling in his chest as it rises and falls in rapid pants beneath his dark shirt, his powerful body frozen in place as he watches me.
My fingers drift lower, collecting the proof of how much I need this. Need him. The cool air of the bedroom brushes my exposed skin, raising goosebumps along my inner thighs. I gather my arousal before returning to circle my aching clit, drawing out each stroke. My free hand drifts up to my breast, palming the weight of it before capturing the nipple between eager fingers. The dual sensations, the gentle pinch at my breast and the glide of my fingers below, threaten to undo me.
I flick my fingers, creating delicious friction against my swollen flesh. His eyes devour me from behind the mask, a predatory gaze that electrifies every inch of my bare skin.
He shifts his weight, hands balled into fists. The air vibrates with his restraint. My eyes lock on his hands as they move to his zipper and tug his jeans open. His cock springs free—thick and hard, with a bead of moisture at the tip that makes my tongue dart across my lips.
He steps forward, leaning over the bed. He pushes my fingers away, replacing them with his own, swiping his fingertips through my arousal, and gathering my wetness on his hand before plunging two fingers inside me. I gasp, my spine curving as I rise to meet him, my body welcoming the invasion.
“Yes…”
The hiss escapes my lips, filling the quiet room. My legs tremble as I rock into his touch, chasing the pressure that promises everything.
When his fingers slip away, emptiness floods the space they left behind. A whimper slips out before I can stop it. My fingers return to my clit, taking over where his left off, circling that sensitive bud while he fists his length with fingersstill wet from my body, our movements falling into perfect sync. His hand on his cock makes my breath catch.
“Are you going to come on me when I come for you?” My voice is ragged and desperate.
“Only inside you, Luna.” Each word fights past gritted teeth as he works himself with long, measured strokes. “Your mouth, your cunt, and your ass. Nowhere else.”
His crude words push me closer to the edge, the possessiveness in his tone setting fire to my veins. I moan, my back arching off the bed as my fingers move quicker, my other hand pinching my nipple harder, until pleasure and pain blur together.
