Song- THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, Bad Omens
I sip on my champagne and plaster on a smile, just how Dad trained me to. With my black lace mask secured firmly on my face and my tattoos proudly on show. A final ‘fuck you’ to my father. He’s lucky the mask covers the shiner he left me with. I’ve stayed firmly in the shadows, watching his every move, waiting for the opportunity to slip away to his office.
As soon as he’s busy chatting to my superiors, including Alex in the corner, I down the last of the glass.
My breath hitches as an almost familiar figure enters the room. A designer black tux that hugs his frame perfectly. It’s a shame he’s wearing a scream mask, so I can’t see his damn face.
I head to the back of the hall, keeping my distance from my father, brushing straight past that man in the mask. That’s when that expensive aftershave hits my nose. The same one Frankie wears. My pulse picks up, and I quicken my pace, my heels clicking on the wooden floors as I head through the double doors into the dimly lit hallway.
I rush towards my dad’s office, pulling out the spare key I have from my purse. Taking one last look around, I unlock it and push it open.
My heart is in my throat the entire time. Closing the door behind me, I toss my bag on the chair in front of the desk and start my search.
Pulling open the first drawer, I crouch down and start weeding out all the random paperwork. Old police reports, receipts, pictures of him and Mom from years ago. I toss it all back in and go for the next drawer.
Again, nothing.
“Come on, where are you?” I mutter under my breath.
If I know my father, he has always kept diaries. Every single day since the day I was born. My entire life is in one of his little black books.
A gust of cold air distracts me, I can’t stop. I move on to the top drawer, rummaging through the vast array of pens.
“Fuck,” I hiss. Every second that passes, someone could walk through that door and out me. I can’t trust anyone who works here. Not my dad, not Alex. I’m on my own.
I go to stand, the sound of heavy breathing stops me. I am frozen in place as that familiar aftershave hits my nostrils.
I close my eyes, too scared to turn around. Goosebumps erupt on my skin as he trails his finger along my tattooed arm, all the way up to my collarbone, before lacing his hands around my throat.
He pushes me forward, so I’m bent over the desk, his body covering mine. I open my mouth to scream, his hand clamps over it, muffling the noise.
“What are you doing in here, detective?” he rasps. I’d recognize that sexy Italian voice anywhere.
I try to wiggle out of his hold, but I stop when I feel his erection press against my ass.
Oh, fuck.
Desire washes over me. He loosens his grip on my throat enough for me to turn my head, coming face to face with that white ghost face.
I’m fighting against being completely turned on. I should run. This is wrong. So wrong. The dampness in my panties is keeping me locked in his grip.
I want to know what it feels like. To see if this is really what I crave. Because I can’t live my life thinking about him like this.
“If I move my hand, you won’t scream?” he asks in a low, husky voice. I nod.
Sucking in a breath as he slowly removes his palm, he keeps me pressed against the desk with his hard dick.
“What are you doing here?” I croak out.
“The same as you, apparently. I thought I told you to leave it, Zara.” There is a warning in his tone, yet all I can focus on is how his body is pressed against mine.
How I want him to do something more.
“I-I can’t leave it.”
He has no idea.
“Am I going to have to punish you, dolcezza?”
A smile spreads across my lips. I know just how to push him.
“I dare you,” I bite back.
He growls in my ear, and my eyes go wide. His fingers trail along the back of my leg and I shiver as he stops and grabs my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh. And fuck, I want it.
“You mean you want to be spanked over your father’s desk for disobeying me? Is that what you need?”
I bite back a moan. I should hate how much I want him. Right now, I don’t care. His palm dips under my leather skirt, caressing me. Instinctively, my legs inch open as much as they can in this tight outfit and I press further into him.
“That’s what I thought. You’re a filthy slut, really.”
I close my eyes, trying to calm down this burning desire within me that is only ignited by his dirty words.
His finger slips between my thighs and he follows the line of my thong all the way down towards my entrance. Pulling my panties across, I pant as he slowly slides his finger along my pussy.
“Fucking soaked, all for me.”
My eyes almost roll back as he circles my clit before cracking his palm over my ass and clamping his hand over my mouth to muffle the scream that follows.
“Frankie,” I moan.
“Fuck, the way you say my name, angel.”
I can barely contain myself as I wait for his next move. I squeal as he lifts me by the hips, his fingers jabbing into my skin, and spins me to face him. He places me down on the edge of the desk and forcefully spreads my legs. Stepping between them, he lowers himself.
Anticipation sizzles as I look down at him. I bite back a moan as his fingers run along the inside of my thighs, hooking under my red lace panties, and lightly brushing against my needy pussy. The rip of the fabric fills the room before he pockets the remainder of my underwear into his tux jacket. I tighten my grip on the edge just as his mask connects with me, making my hips jolt. He slowly lifts it to the top of his head, but his face remains buried between my legs. When I look down, all I see is the damn plastic white face. His tongue connects with my clit and I arch my back, spreading my knees wider for him. He draws out slow licks from my entrance to my clit, which has my whole body vibrating against him.
“Oh, fuck!” I cry out as he slides a finger inside me.
He switches between licking, sucking, and finger fucking me.
“I need more.” I let out a breathy pant.
He slides in a second finger, filling me up and biting down on my clit, which has me screaming out in pleasure. He finds a rhythm that has my thighs trembling next to his head.
“Fuck me, please,” I all but scream.
If this is what he can do with his mouth, I have to know what he can do with his dick.
“Quiet, baby. Unless you want an audience.”
I press my lips together, the realization washing over me.
His left hand shoots up and pulls down my dress, letting my breasts free, filling his hand and pinching the bar in my nipple.
“Jesus.” I hear him grumble something against my pussy. The next thing I know, he lifts me like I weigh nothing and my back crashes against the wall. My chest heaves, his mask is firmly back on, and his grip is tight around my throat. He adds pressure to the sides of my neck, not enough to restrict my air flow, I am desperate for more. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer so his dick rubs up against me. Rolling my hips, I beg him with my body to fuck me.
I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
