Dirty Bad Wrong(66)
He made to move but I held him tight, snaking my arms around his neck. “No,” I said. “Please, don’t go.”
“Only for a second,” he appeased.
“No,” I hissed. “Please. I want you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Me? Here? Now? Right now?”
I pulled his fingers down between my legs. “Now. Right now.”
“Shit, Lydia, you’re still wet.”
I lay back as he pulled his mask on, gasping at the cold press of the floor against my bruises. He followed me, covering my body with his, but I didn’t want that. I wriggled out from under him, rolling until he was pressed hard into my back. My eyes fixed on the faces at the window, at their gaping expressions. I was no longer scared of them, no longer embarrassed. I met their gaze with my own, rocking my hips back to coax Masque into me. He pulled my leg back over his, spreading me wide for their viewing. I groaned my approval.
“You like this now, hey, you dirty little bitch? Like their hungry eyes on your snatch? Look at them, hard for you, Lydia. They’re all hard for you.”
I turned my head to face him, pressing my mouth into his. “That’s not it,” I wheezed, bucking back against the thrust of his hips. His cock spread me open, forced its way right inside. “I don’t want them to see me, Masque, I don’t care if they’re hard for me.” I pulled his hand around to my breast, moaning as he twisted my nipple.
“Tell me,” he hissed. “What do you want them to see?” His hips slammed into my bruises and it felt so fucking good. “Tell me, Lydia. Look at them and tell me what makes you wet.”
He changed his angle, and his cock strained inside me, pressing on all the right places.
“I want them to see this,” I moaned. “I want them to see you inside me. Show them how I belong to you...”
He wrapped his hand around my throat, pressing his mouth into my ear as he slammed me harder and harder. “I’ll show them, Lydia. I’ll show them who owns this tight little cunt.” His fingers were on my clit, working me for just a second before he hooked two fingers inside, forcing them in alongside his cock. I whimpered, my pussy on fire. “Take it, Lydia, fucking take it.”
He wriggled his way in further, pushing a third finger in alongside, and it hurt, it really fucking hurt. “Shit, Masque, shit...”
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured. “Tell me to stop.”
“No,” I breathed. “Stretch me, Masque, please God, fucking stretch me! I want it!”
He was lost to me, grunting and thrusting and pounding his way inside. I arched my back and hissed for more, clenching my teeth until the brutal pulse of orgasm ripped through my senses. We were animals, beasts, and I clawed at his arms as he savaged my insides, loving the bellow of his eruption. He came inside me, a juddering rack of muscle and sin, breathing hot in my ear and pulling me tight.
“Fucking hell, Lydia, fucking hell...” he groaned. “Jesus fucking Christ, that was good.”
“Ow,” I laughed, flinching as he pulled himself out of me. I kissed him hard, sucking his tongue into my mouth like I’d never get enough of him. “What are you doing to me?” I giggled, high on endorphins. “This is crazy.”
But he didn’t laugh back, didn’t even hear me. His attention was on the window, and the woman staring back at him.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Lydia
Masque pulled on his jeans in silence, and I didn’t dare speak a word. The woman through the window flashed a smile, blowing him a kiss, and I watched his expression darken, lips nothing more than a tight slash of rage. I got dressed, suddenly self-conscious and awkward, trying not to meet our observer’s eyes. She was pretty, really fucking pretty, with a gentle cascade of perfect blonde waves bouncing around her shoulders. She had a tiny nose, gorgeous full lips, and eyes of sky blue, and her figure... well, she could have stepped straight off the cover of Vogue. Inadequacy slapped me around the face, and then, I knew the woman was Rachel.
He took my hand without a word and led me away like she meant nothing, despite his expression screaming otherwise. Cara was standing at the bar with her arms folded, tapping at a stool with her shoe. She smiled as she saw me, but it was such a nervous little effort. I spotted Rebecca a few metres behind, a mass of angry arms and jerky gestures, getting right in the face of some other woman. She moved enough for me to see beyond and I recognised Jaz’s purple hair. I clenched Masque’s hand tighter, but he didn’t grip back.
“Wait here for me, Cat.” He dropped me with Cara and barely pecked my cheek before he turned away. I could only watch him leave, pacing straight for the corridor and the perfect blonde waiting there.