Page 51 of Watch Me Burn
He makes a pleased sound deep in his throat, his punishing rhythm unchanged. His fingers slide down to circle my throat, and his grip tightens, cutting off my air.
“That’s right, Luna. Every part of you is mine. Remember that the next time another man tries to touch you.”
The words brand themselves into my brain whether I want them there or not. There’s something about how he claims me and controls me that goes beyondanything I’ve felt before. My body responds to his roughness even as my mind questions why I need this, why I hunger for what only this masked man gives me.
Then he shifts his angle, and thought dissolves under the wave of sensation. Heat coils tight in my belly, winding tighter with each brutal thrust until I’m balanced on the edge of breaking.
“Are you going to come?” His voice splinters, betraying how close he is. “Are you going to come on my cock after coming on his tongue?”
He loosens his fingers just enough. The sound that escapes me is small and broken.
“Yes.”
The room tilts, and my body knows nothing but the ache, the building wave and the desperate climb, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, pulling me toward some sharp precipice I can’t escape.
His grip tightens around my throat again as he drives into me without mercy. My lungs burn for air while my vision starts to dim at the edges.
“Do it. Come for me, Luna. Show me you’re mine and only mine.”
His command and the sudden rush of oxygen when he releases me send me tumbling over the cliff. My body contracts around him in waves, pleasure tearing through me like wildfire. I sink my teeth into the duvet to trap my scream, every muscle seizing with the force of my climax.
Before the tremors fade, he pulls out and flips me onto my back in one swift motion. My tied hands wedge beneath me, trapped under the curve of my back, but something about it feels almost gentle despite the brutality seconds before. I squirm, trying to shift my arms to something less painful, but my own weight locks them in place.
He positions himself at my entrance, but instead of the violent thrust I expect, he slides into me with agonizing slowness, inch by inch, his masked gaze never leaving my face as he watches my reaction.
“What are you doing?” The words come out breathless, confusion clouding my thoughts at this departure from our usual dynamic.
He doesn't answer. Instead, he withdraws until only his tip remains, then sinks back in, slow and deliberate. The next thrust goes deeper, stretching me further. Then another, each one reaching places the previous stroke didn't. His hand moves to cup my face, palm warm against my cheek. His thumb finds my lower lip, tracing the curve with a gentleness that doesn't belong here, doesn't fit with anything I know about us.
“Is this how you wanted him to fuck you tonight, little doe? Gentle? Slow?”
His cock glides slowly, almost leisurely, along my inner walls, the sensation making my eyes flutter.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you like how I fuck you?” He slams into me once with his usual force before slowing again.
“I love it,” I gasp.
“Then why would you want him to fuck you like this?”
“I want you to fuck me like this.” My admission is raw and honest.
He continues his slow rhythm, withdrawing until only the tip remains before sinking back in to the hilt.
“I’m not a gentle man, Luna. I told you that right from the beginning.”
But his careful movements tell a different story. I arch beneath him, seeking more contact.
“I know. And I want every brutal thing you do to me. But I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your skin against mine as you move inside me, just like this. But you won’t give it to me.”
A sob breaks free before I can stop it. It sounds like the cries he pulls from me when pleasure overwhelms, but this one carries something heavier—grief mixed with want.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” A growl tears through his teeth. “Knowing who I am will change everything.
“There’s nothing wrong with change. Change can be good.”
“Not when it means losing you.”
