A sound woke me in the middle of the night. I’d been having the nicest dream about…something. It was already fading as I cracked my eyes open, but I thought it involved cold beer and a warm, sandy beach. What I wouldn’t give for a mid-winter Caribbean vacation. I had some money saved up. Maybe sometime during the next two weeks, Josh and I could slip away to –
My ceiling was awash with red. Why was my ceiling red?
Oh, fuck, was my house on fire?
I tried to jerk upright, but a yank on my arms had me floundering back onto the mattress. I craned my head up, panicking, and froze. There were black silk cuffs around my wrists, and the ropes binding them led straight to my headboard, where a complex series of knots that looked impossible to unravel secured them.
Fear punched through my lungs, stealing my breath away. Josh wasn’t in the bed beside me. We’d been curled up together when I fell asleep, with Fred perched on top of us. They were both gone now, and I must have been half out of it with sleep because all I could think was that Brad wasn’t actually dead, and he’d broken back into my house to finish what he’d started.
“Oh, good,” a deep, modulated voice tolled out. “You’re awake.”
I snapped my gaze up.
There he sat facing the foot of the bed, shirtless and lit with the deep crimson light he often used in his videos: the Faceless Man. His mask looked more threatening than I remembered, the cheekbones sharper, the black eyes deeper. His massive frame dwarfed my small armchair, making it look like something made for a child. Why had I never realized how ominous his tattoos were? Dark, twisted forms crawled up his arms like gothic nightmares emerging from hell.
One hand grasped a wicked-looking knife I’d never seen before, curved and razor-sharp – something made for skinning prey. The way he held it so casually, half dangling from his fingers as he twirled it in an idle circle, made it seem even more dangerous. Only someone well versed with weapons handled them with such little regard, as if they knew the tool so intimately it had become an extension of their arm.
It’s just Josh, I tried to tell myself, but the knowledge did little to calm my racing pulse.
Gone was my kind, funny boyfriend. In his place sat a man who radiated menace. With the mask on, it was like he’d become someone else. Or maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe he was still the same Josh I’d grown to care about so deeply, and wearing the mask allowed him to bring out a darker side of his personality that he kept hidden during the day. One that craved my fear as much as my desire.
He lifted the knife and pointed it at me, head tilting sideways in an unnerving, almost alien way because it was such an un-Josh-like gesture. I checked him over again to reassure myself that it was, in fact, my boyfriend and not a different masked stranger who’d broken into my house. The bruised ribs confirmed his identity, but my heart raced on.
“Spread them,” he said.
I glanced down to see the sheets pooled at my waist. I still wore the matching black satin tank and shorts I’d gone to bed in, and for that, I was grateful. It was bad enough that I’d slept through being tied up, but if I’d slept through being stripped, I would have had to book an appointment with a sleep clinic to see what the hell was wrong with me.
The Faceless Man’s tone brooked no argument, so I propped myself up on my elbows and slowly parted my bent legs. He leaned forward just enough to drag the sheets off them, torturously slow, and my skin was already so hypersensitive that I felt every inch of cotton slide over me like wandering hands.
What was he about to do to me?
He stood in a fluid motion. The red light must have been set on the floor somewhere near the foot of my bed because he bisected the beam, his massive form outlined on my far wall like some kind of kinky bat signal.
Turn it on, and he will come – pun intended.
The thought made me want to smile, but I had a feeling that it would only get me into trouble, and I was deep enough as it was. Now wasn’t the time to taunt the man who’d tied me up. Maybe after this was over and I knew what his retribution entailed, I would start acting bratty, but until then, I was too chickenshit to pile any more punishable offenses onto my plate.
He twirled the knife again, and my gaze dropped to it. So far, we’d only briefly talked about our shared bedroom fantasies, but we hadn’t gotten around to outlining just how far each of us was willing to take them, and the realization that he and I might have very different stopping points suddenly made me nervous.
No safe words, I reminded myself. If he pushed me too far, I could simply tell him to stop. After everything we’d been through, I trusted him enough to keep his word that he would.
He slid a knee onto the bed between my spread legs. The hand not holding the knife landed by my hip, and he leaned forward, braced over me. Fuck, he was big. His shoulders were so wide they blocked my view of the ceiling. Muscles rippled across his chest and down his torso as he balanced in place. Somehow, being around him so much recently had numbed me to our size difference, but looking up at him now drove home just how large he was.
A flash of metal had me dropping my gaze to the weapon he held. I was tied up, with a knife-wielding masked man looming over me. This was a fantasy I’d had for months, but the reality of it was much different. Yes, I was turned on. I wasn’t wearing panties beneath my silk shorts, and I could already feel the fabric of them soaking through with my desire. But I was also more afraid than I thought I would be. All I had to go on was my instinct to trust Josh and his insistence that he didn’t want to hurt me. That it was the moment my fear turned to lust he craved. If I was wrong, this could go so, so badly for me.
It only made me wetter for him.
The sharp edge of fear tipped my desire into the realm of darkness and heightened my other senses, making my skin so sensitive that every inch of me was turning into an erogenous zone. The Faceless Man lifted his knife and dragged the tip up the inside of my thigh, and I shivered beneath him, fighting back a moan.
He studied the blade’s progress before lifting his soulless eyes to mine. “You’re beautiful when you’re scared.”
God, that was fucked up.
I loved it.
Only the threat of the knife kept me still beneath him. If not for its presence, I would have been writhing. My pussy throbbed, and I needed something to ease the ache, friction against my clit, or better yet, his monstrous cock filling me up. I’d never forget the initial sting of stretching around it, trying to take something so large and hard into my body. I was still a little sore from our first tryst, and I knew it would make this second time so much better – more painful at first, but then pure bliss when he was buried to the hilt, and I relaxed into pleasure.
He sucked in a breath above me, no doubt seeing the desire writ across my face. I used to think it was bad to wear every emotion so openly, but the way he reacted to them made me never want to change.
The knife slipped another inch upward, sharp enough to sting but not hard enough to break the skin. I held my breath as it got closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, my gaze moving over his straining muscles, twisted tattoos, and back to the bottomless black of empty eye sockets again. This was the hottest, most terrifying moment of my life, and holding still through it was absolute torture, which was likely his intent. I should have known my punishment would be as mental as it was physical.
“Don’t move,” he said.
I froze, going so far as to hold my breath when the knife swiveled against me, blade up as he slipped it beneath the hem of my shorts. There was a tug around my upper thigh as the fabric went taut, and then a soft sigh filled the room as he pressed the blade up, slicing through the satin. It sounded disturbingly close to a scalpel opening skin, and it sent my fear ratcheting up another notch.
I glanced down to see the right side of the shorts fall away. He pivoted the knife to my other thigh and cut that side free next. Only a small square of fabric was left covering me, and as I watched, he used the knife tip to drag it down until I was revealed to him. Cool air brushed against the heated, wet skin of my folds, making me shiver.
With a flick, he spun the knife to hold its blade pointed down, his fist wrapped around the handle. Then he braced his fist beside me, shifting his weight to it as he lifted his free hand. That hand went straight between my thighs, cupping my pussy. The urge to grind against him was so strong that I let out a whimper as I fought it back. His hand was so warm, so close to where I needed it.
“You’re soaked,” he bit out, sounding as tortured by my arousal as I was.
I tried to lift my arms, wanting to touch him, but I was so out of it with need that I’d forgotten about the goddamn restraints and landed flat on my back. As soon as I hit the mattress, he plunged his fingers inside me. I was so shocked by the sudden intrusion that my spine arched off the bed, and a gasp tore from my mouth. He gave me no time to adjust, shoving his fingers as deep as they would go, the heel of his palm grinding into my clit as he used his hand to fuck me.
I writhed, half trying to get away, half trying to get closer. It was so much, so soon, but as sudden as his invasion was, it was already making something tighten deep inside me. No. There was no way I was close to coming already.
He added a third finger, wet, slippery sounds filling the room, almost loud enough to drown out my continued gasps. His movements were harsh, relentless, thrusting so hard that my tits bounced, and my heels scrabbled against the sheets as I looked for some way to brace myself. He was fucking me like he was mad at me, like this wasn’t about getting me off, but spinning me as high as he could as fast as he could, and it made me nervous for what would come next.
The last edging nearly killed me, and he’d been in a playful mood then. I couldn’t imagine how torturous it would be when he was hell-bent on teaching me a lesson.
I should have been scared, and maybe I was, but the thought of being dominated like that, utterly out of control, was more thrilling than anything else. It was enough to end my momentary resistance to him, my heels going slack as I quit tilting my hips away and instead started thrusting them down to meet his palm.
Apparently, it was what he’d been waiting for. The second I started writhing against him, he pulled his fingers free, leaving my pussy clenching around nothing. I couldn’t stop the low hiss of frustration from slipping through my lips. I needed him. The sudden shock of loss was too much to endure. How dare he do this to me again, leaving me so desperate for him.
I couldn’t wait for him to make it worse.
The fingers that had been inside me glistened in the red light. He sat back on his heels and tipped his mask up just enough to slide his hand beneath it. A sucking sound told me he was cleaning my arousal off with his tongue. My inner walls spasmed at the thought of it, and more than anything, I wanted to watch, but the sight was denied to me, driving my frustration to new heights. Those fingers would be put to better use out of his mouth and inside me. As shocking as it had been, I craved the feeling of them pounding into me again.
“Show me,” I said, voice hoarse from lust.
I didn’t think he’d do it at first, but then he tilted his mask up even higher, just enough to reveal his lips. His tongue slid out, licking in a sinful circle as he cleaned every last drop of me off his fingers. I almost came from the sight alone.
With a tug, his mask was back in place, and I had just enough time to register the bulge in his dark jeans before his hands wrapped around my ankles, and he pulled me flat against the bed. My arms strained overhead, the ropes snapping tight as I found the edge of the restraints. He let go with one hand, reaching for something out of sight at the foot of the mattress.
His hand came back into view holding what looked like a smaller-sized anal plug, the dark blue silicone narrow at the tip and then swelling in the middle before tapering off again and ending in a broad base. Then he was moving between my legs, pushing one of my knees up as he came, all the way to my chest. He stroked the blunted tip of the plug down my stomach and then lower, slicking it through my folds.
“You’re so wet, I don’t even need lube,” he rumbled, the words deliciously rough because of the modulator. His black eye sockets were trained between my legs as he slowly pushed the toy into my pussy.
“Always wet for you,” I panted, shifting my other leg to the side to grant him greater access. The plug was narrower than I wanted, but my inner walls, starved for friction, clasped down on it regardless.
He made a low sound of masculine approval, twirling the plug inside me so it was coated in my arousal. Then he slid it out, the tip tracing down to my ass. I was worried that he would be rough after the way he’d fingered me, but he took his time pushing the plug in, allowing me a moment to adjust when I hissed out a breath at the initial discomfort. I thought I was okay until I got to the wider middle, and everything clenched up, my body resistant to take it.
The Faceless Man reached down, the pad of his thumb landing on my clit. My head fell back as he massaged around it in a circle, pausing to gently flick it before circling again.
Oh, fuck, that felt good.
He did it again, pushing the plug deeper as my muscles loosened from the pleasure. Once the widest part of it was in, the rest was easier to take, and before I knew it, the toy was fully seated. He lifted his thumb away, and I was left both too full and too empty at the same time. My pussy was still contracting, longing to be filled, and I could feel the plug every time my inner muscles spasmed.
He lifted something else off the mattress and held it up for me to see. It was a small plastic square, almost like a remote of some ki –
A sharp click was all the warning I had before the plug in my ass started vibrating.
I let out a yelp, feet scrabbling against the covers again, caught off guard by the sudden sensation. Holy shit, I didn’t even know there were anal vibrators.
Two big hands landed on my thighs, pinning them down, forcing me to lay there and feel, and oh, God, did I feel. I’d never been so aware of that part of my body before. Nor had I been aware of how close things were on the inside. Somehow, it felt like the vibration in my ass was happening in my pussy, too, and while I’d found anal play mildly pleasurable in the past, now I was actually enjoying it. More than enjoying it. If he kept this up and gave me literally any other stimulation, I would come so hard I’d probably squirt.
With another click, the vibration cut off, leaving me panting. The hands on my thighs lifted to my hips, and before I realized what was happening, the bedroom spun as he flipped me onto my stomach. A jerk on my waist had me face down, ass up on the mattress, the ropes so tight I couldn’t do much but turn my hands in and cling to them for support. My heart rate, which was already at a steady gallop, skyrocketed.
What was he doing back there? What was coming next?
A hand landed between my shoulder blades, pressing me down harder. I turned my face so I wouldn’t suffocate, trying to look behind me but seeing nothing but a long line of jean-clad thigh as the Faceless Man positioned himself behind me.
Please, fuck me, I wanted to beg, but I had a feeling that he was so antagonistic right now he might refuse just to spite me.
A click hit my ears, and I tried to brace myself, but – oh, fuck – I didn’t think there was any way to prepare for the feeling of something vibrating in my ass. Between the sound of the toy and my ragged breathing, I barely heard the zip of jeans being undone. That meant something, I knew it did, but I was so distracted by what was happening inside my body that I didn’t realize what I was in for until the hand pinning me down lifted free, and my hips were yanked backward, spearing me straight onto the Faceless Man’s cock.
I cried out, my pussy clenching around him, stars dancing behind my closed eyelids as I tried to adjust to the mix of pleasure and discomfort. Yup, I was still sore, but anyone who’s been fucked hard understands the delicious sting of being stuffed full again before you’re ready for it. Maybe it wasn’t true for everyone, but for me, it was a good kind of pain. What made it even better was that with the addition of the plug, this was the fullest I’d ever been in my life, and I could tell from where I stretched around him that the Faceless Man was barely halfway in.
“I need to be able to trust you,” he growled.
And then he spanked me hard enough that my entire body clenched up, my ears echoing with the sound of the slap. With a grunt, he pulled all the way out of me, having to shove my hips forward because of how much my pussy had tightened around him.
I froze.
He’d actually spanked me.
I’d never been spanked in my life. And he hadn’t held back either. He’d hit me hard enough that it still stung. I didn’t think it would bruise, but there was no doubt my ass was now as red as the blush stealing up my cheeks, heating my face with an unexpected mixture of shame and embarrassment. And not because my boyfriend was following through on his threat to punish me. But because of how much I liked it.
Behind me, he’d gone completely still, like he was waiting for my reaction. Yes, he was being a domineering bastard right now, but deep down, I knew he was probably trying not to panic, worried that he’d gotten caught up in the moment and gone too far.
The vibrator clicked off, and the hand holding my hip softened. “Say something.”
In answer, I pushed my ass into him. “I don’t think I’ve learned my lesson yet.”
The voice modulator turned his heavy exhale into something more like a growl.
I arched my spine. “Again.”
The fingers on my hips tightened. A low rumble filled the room before he thrust back in, even deeper this time, and between his dick and the plug, I was so stuffed that my toes curled against the sheets. I felt his shift of movement right before his palm slapped my ass again, a little lighter than the first time but still hard enough to burn. Even though I was ready for it, I stiffened up, and he clicked the vibrator on right as he pulled out.
My eyes snapped wide, a deep pulse of lust blasting through me. The sensation of his cock dragging out of me while every muscle in my body clenched tight, paired with the vibration kicking back on, was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. The pleasure was unparalleled; if he kept this up for long, I would probably shred the sheets with my nails.
I felt feral, needy.
Desperate.
“Hold onto the ropes,” he said, clicking the vibrator off.
I clung to them for all I was worth as he rammed into me again, spanked my other cheek, and then pulled almost all the way out, clicking on the vibrator as he went. Stars exploded across my vision. I turned my face into the sheets and cried out into them.
He started a rhythm: in, spank, out, vibrate. I lost myself to it, became someone else to it, no longer Aly, but some wild version of her, shoving my hips back, moaning and pleading and apologizing, unselfconscious and fully uninhibited for the first time in my life.
“Fuck,” the Faceless Man growled. “I can feel it vibrating against me.”
He stopped clicking the plug off after that, leaving it on as his hips snapped forward, burying himself balls deep with every brutal thrust.
The longer it continued, the more out of control we both became. I let go of the ropes to claw at the sheets. My masked man wrapped his fingers in my hair and wrenched my head up. Instead of spanking me with every thrust, his strikes became intermittent, and the unreliability of them made each one that much sweeter, that much more painful.
That much more pleasurable.
I felt raw and overexposed, all my layers of humanity stripped away to reveal the animal underneath. She wanted to be fucked, hard, every part of her so full to bursting that the whole world fell away, leaving nothing between her and the man behind her. The next time we did this, I was asking him to gag me. I wanted to scream for him when I came, and I hated that I couldn’t do it because there were neighbors close enough to hear me and probably call the cops, thinking I was getting murdered. At least if something was shoved deep enough into my mouth to muffle the noise, I could give in to that desire.
His dick started to swell inside me, and I nearly sobbed with relief. I’d been holding my orgasm at bay as long as I could, waiting to tumble over the edge with him.
“Come for me, Aly,” he said, tugging my hair hard enough to sting. “Let me feel that perfect pussy choke this cock.”
His other hand left my hip, and a second later, I felt the cold bite of metal against my throat. He’d picked the knife back up.
The spike of fear that stabbed through me was enough to tip me over the edge. My pussy spasmed, inner muscles clenching, trying to draw him deeper. Bare millimeters away, the vibrator buzzed on, stealing the breath from my lungs and making tears streak from my eyes. I’d never felt like this before, and I’d do anything to feel it again. He had officially ruined me for all others.
The Faceless Man groaned behind me, his hips starting to lose the rhythm as his cock swelled and stretched, hitting a spot so deep it stole my breath away. And then I was coming, sobbing, praising him even as I cursed his very existence.
I would never forgive him for doing this to me.
I couldn’t wait until the next time he did it.
“Aly, fuck!” he yelled.
The knife fell from his fingers, and his hands returned to my hips as his thrusts turned furious and desperate. Feeling him come inside me only prolonged my release, black creeping into the edges of my vision, a low buzz filling my ears. Was I about to pass out?
By the time I came out of my daze, my hands were free from the restraints, and I lay boneless on the covers, being petted and stroked and rewarded for how well I’d taken my punishment. His touches were as soft as they’d just been hard, and his words were full of approval as he told me how beautiful I’d been, that none of his fantasies could ever compare to what we’d just done.
I reached up and pulled his mask off, and the Faceless Man became Josh again, his hair mussed and his dark eyes full of wonder as he stared down at me.
“It was the back of the blade I held to your throat,” he said. “You were never in danger.”
“I know,” I told him because, of course, I wasn’t.
“Aly, that was amazing.”
I threaded my fingers through his. “Unfortunately, we’re going to have to work through our issues with dialogue like rational adults because if that was meant to prevent me from breaking my word to you again, I gotta tell you, it backfired.”
His chest heaved as he chuckled. “Are you sure? Because you sounded apologetic as fuck about halfway through it.”
I grinned. “I was more sorry that I wasn’t sorry.”
He lifted his free hand and gave the side of my ass a gentle slap. “Bad girl.”
“I think I’m falling for you,” I blurted.
Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was how well he’d just brought my fantasies to life. Or maybe it was how he could make me laugh even in the most stressful situations. The way he’d moved himself right into my life like he’d always belonged there. The way he treated my, no, our cat like a human child. The unselfconscious goofiness of the man. The beauty. The intelligence. The way he looked at me like I was his whole world. And yes, even the obsessive way he tracked my every move. Even the way he watched me, stalked me, and hunted me down.
He grinned. “If all it took was a little light spanking to get you to say that, I would have bent you over my knee the first time we met.”
He called that light spanking? God, I’d gotten off easy.
I made a mental note not to piss him off again. At least not until I felt ready to face more pain than that during sex.
I reached up and stroked my thumb over his lips. “I was too jumpy that night in the parking garage to let you anywhere near my ass.”
His eyes darkened. “I’m not talking about then.”
Oh. He meant the first time we saw each other in his apartment, all those months ago. Had his obsession started then?
As I watched, he parted his lips and sucked my thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before biting the tip. The grin that split his face as I pulled free was wicked. In a flash, he rolled me onto my back, settling his hips between mine so I could feel the way his cock was hardening again.
He leaned down and kissed me, and after not being able to touch him for so long, it felt like the sweetest reward to be able to wrap my arms and legs around him.
His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he broke the kiss and pulled away enough to look at me. “I think I’m falling for you, too.”
Warmth spread through my core, the heat of pleasure mixed with pure joy. Even though I was sore, I needed him again. Now.
I tightened my arms around his neck and pulled him onto me, plying him with drugging kisses until he gave me what I wanted, pushing inside carefully this time, his thrusts deep and gentle and just as mind-blowing as before.
It was a long time before we emerged from my bedroom, freshly showered and starving after our marathon calorie-burning session.
We pulled up short after opening the door. Fred sat right on the other side of it, looking rattled. His eyes were large and glassy as he stared past our legs toward the rumpled bed like he knew what had just gone on in there.
Josh leaned close. “I think we’ve officially scarred our son.”
I lifted a hand for a high-five. “Parental achievement unlocked.”
