Briony
side and off the bed, cursing out while holding his neck.
Aero is psychotic. Insane. Obsessive. And for some strange reason, I can’t help but to be entirely intrigued by the toxic sides of him.
Watching him clean me of Saint’s touch in the video had me spiraling. The warmth between my legs intensified as I witnessed him caress me with that tongue, caring for me in his disgustingly strange way. I’ve become totally captivated by it. Enraptured by his wicked ways. I was aching between my thighs, wondering if he was going to fuck me on camera, hoping and praying he didn’t so I could remember the feel of it. I didn’t want to be robbed of that opportunity, and that idea alone shocked the living hell out of me.
But I’m no dummy, and neither is he.
Aero gives me all the tools to make my own decisions. I’ve come to realize he enjoys restraining me, making me weak, but what really gets him off is my ability to fight back. He plants the tools, waiting to see if I’m smart enough to play his game, and leaving a scalpel blade within fingers’ reach behind the iron bars of my bed was evidence of that.
Was he expecting me to stab him in the side of the neck with it? Probably not. But here we are.
Quickly, I turn, using the scalpel to pick the lock on the other cuff.
I hear him rise off of the floor, and a low laugh forms. The cuff clicks open, releasing my sore wrist, and I bend forward, desperately sawing away at the rope tangled around my ankle. He watches, standing near the edge of the bed, shaking his head as he holds a hand to his new wound.
I got him in the muscle of his neck, not anywhere vital. I’m not trying to kill the guy. Not consciously, anyway.
What’s crazy is I don’t remember grabbing that knife in the video. I’d held onto it since he gave it to me, knowing I’d need it to save myself at some point, not thinking I was capable of doing it while coming out of my fog. I’m surprised by myself and the fight I hold deep within my being.
I free my leg of the rope around one ankle and try to untie the other, when he grabs both my wrists, slamming me back on the bed. I drop the blade before kneeing him in the side with my free leg. He grunts, but places all of his weight on my body, pinning me with his hips.
We’re both panting, staring dangerously into the other’s eyes. Two wild animals. One inherent, the other learned. Both feral in the worlds they thrive, meeting in the center of a new jungle. A hunger pitting them against one another until it becomes an intentional bloodbath of dominance.
He shakes his head again, his gaze dropping to my mouth before peering back into my eyes, a look of relief pouring from those dilated pupils.
“There she is.”
The way he says it, with a proud look on his face, makes me feel as if every button he pushes is for this purpose alone. To bring out the darkness in me. To wring out my strength before him, allowing it to drown him in his own strange, masochistic way. It shouldn’t excite me the way it does, but the idea that Aero is pushing me to be the baddest version of myself is entirely too attractive for all the wrong reasons.
“Are you ready to listen? Ready to feel?” he asks, slowly trailing his hands down from my wrists until they reach the curve of my elbow.
Softly, those hands trail my skin along my upper arm until they meet my neck. He slowly wraps both hands around my neck, smearing his blood across my skin.
“You deserve to bloom, Briony. You deserve pleasure and all the desires they have denied you, masked by the societal standards meant to hold you back.”
“Who are you?” The words slip from my lips without thinking, needing answers like my next breath. “I need to know.”
How has he found me? Why does he want this for me? Who is the man beneath the mask? The answers matter now more than ever.
His hazel eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes, go back and forth between mine, and I watch the roll of his throat beneath the rose tattoo sticking out from under the knit mask.
“Knowing a person means understanding their intentions. I think you know what mine are.”
I swallow, listening intently.
“No one can control me anymore, especially not a fictitious God created by despicable men designed to control the masses. I won’t allow you to live in this world of deceptions when you were meant for so much more.”
Everything he says holds such weight, as if the specific people he’s suggesting have wronged him in the worst possible ways.
“They’re lying to you, Briony. They don’t want you. They never did.”
Thousands of questions prowl through my mind at his words.
“But I do. I want you. You’re mine now, just as I am yours.”
“But I don’t even—”
“I’ll kill everyone,” he interrupts. “Anyone who gets in the way of letting you live.”
The words go directly to my center, and without even thinking, I raise my hips to meet him, grinding that sensitive part of myself against him for some much needed friction.
His need to protect me while allowing me to thrive has me losing my mind to my body.
“I know, baby,” he says, peering at my lips as his rough, calloused hand travels to cup the curve of my breast. “I’m gonna take care of that ache so you can think clearly again.”
He slaps my breast, causing me to feel the sting travel directly to my center like a lightning bolt of intense pleasure, before surprising me by roughly flipping me over on my stomach. With one leg still tied to the bed, the rope around my ankle, he props me on my knees, holding my hips as he slides off the bed behind me.
I close my eyes, breathless, feeling entirely exposed with my ass up in the air, naked and open before him.
His hands slowly skim up the backs of my thighs as he talks.
“Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen,” he says, his voice not muffled by the mask like it was before.
The words he uses are so vulgar and horrific. He uses his fingers to part my lips, holding me open for his viewing pleasure.
“I’m gonna hurt you,” he warns. “I’m gonna fuck this tight, pink, pure little pussy until it’s swollen and red, and you pass out from the pleasured pain.”
My toes curl into themselves and I gasp as I feel him spit on me. I look back over my shoulder at him, too stunned to move. I don’t think any of this is normal. Then again, I don’t know what normal is.
All I see is the top of his black mask on his head before my face falls flat to the mattress when his warm, wet tongue laps the length of me.
“Oh, God,” I moan at the sensation that’s blowing my mind.
I’ve never felt anything like it. The soft, warm, spongy tongue touches the most intimate part of me. His lips surround my clit as he suctions the part that aches the most. I’m on fire, burning internally with the tightness within me, bound so tight I could burst.
“There you go,” he murmurs into me, flicking me with his tongue again, making the sexiest smacking sounds with his lips. “Call for him. See who comes first.” He flicks his tongue again before sucking on that sensitive, swollen part of me with his lips. “Him, or me.”
His finger runs the length of my slit, and I feel just how wet it is down there. Pushing the finger into me, I buck my hips back, fisting the comforter between both hands on the bed.
“Aero,” I moan, feeling myself take his finger and squeeze onto it.
He removes it slowly before I feel another finger joining it. There’s a slight sting this time as he rotates the digits, almost testing to see how far he can stretch me.
“I’m taking all of this for myself,” he whispers, pulling the fingers out and trailing them up to my puckered hole that clenches when he touches it.
It feels so foreign, strange, and inherently wrong, and I can help but wish he’d touch anywhere else.
“You own me now,” he declares, before I feel the sharp sting of a bite on the flesh of my ass.
Before I can even react, I feel his hand grip the hair at my crown. Pulling my head back until I’m facing the ceiling, he says, “Know this, Briony. There’s no escaping me.”
I swallow, trying to breathe through my nose to calm myself and keep from screaming. I’m not in control, and I don’t think I want to be. I want to escape him, only for him to chase me down again.
I feel his mouth back on me again, and a loud throaty moan leaves my chest. It’s as if I have no control over my body anymore. He’s the conductor, conducting the chaos that is my orchestra, the music he creates becoming more intense with every stroke of that skilled tongue.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, my stomach feeling so tight I could explode internally. I feel the rupture bound to release; the break, the crest in the wave…
“I can’t…it’s happening…” I breathe.
His tongue laps my slit before an intense flicking motion vibrates through me as fingers fill me in the place that aches to be filled.
With my eyes closed tightly, the most intense feeling washes over me. It stems from my lower stomach exploding outward throughout my spine. I hold my breath as it cycles through me, this euphoric, mind-blowing sensation that literally cripples me. I cry out, embracing it.
And then, as quick as it washed over me, I’m numb all over.
My breaths fall from my lungs as my toes curl into themselves, my hands still fisting the blanket before me.
I feel my hair getting pulled from the crown again, lifting me from my hazy bliss.
“Suck,” he demands, leaning over me with his tongue out.
I obey, wrapping my lips around his tongue and tasting myself on it. He groans as I pop off the end, feeling the weight of his heavy cock resting on my backside through his pants.
Quickly, without another thought, he undoes his belt. Taking it, he wraps the leather around my upper arms, pulling them together tightly onto my back. I’m still swirling from my first orgasm given by a man I don’t even know, when the feeling of his warm, fleshy cock rubs against my sensitive and swollen clit from behind.
“Call for your God now, church girl,” he says gruffly, “Because after I dirty you the way I intend, you’re gonna need some saving to cling to.”
