Page 85 of Arran's Obsession

Over and over, the man’s dick thrust in and out, so big it almost hurt, but hitting a deep pleasure zone that had me seeing stars in the darkness. I’d lost all control of my body. All Iknew was the approaching bright pleasure. The rhythm and dark delight of being fucked so good.

Maybe I didn’t care who the owner of the dick was so long as he kept doing this. A spasm took me, and I hitched my breath, trying to stifle any more sounds so he didn’t stop. The risk of denial made everything a thousand times more dangerous.

I just needed a little more.

Just a few extra hits.

My pussy clenched tight around my unknown partner, and I couldn’t hold in a cry. Then the wall between me and completion crumbled. A brilliant, dazzling climax slammed into me. It started at the point he’d been hitting then broke over me in a wave, drowning me in deep satisfaction.

It took a long while until it released me from its grip. Until I could remember my name and why I was here.

Holy hell. At last. At long, goddamned last. I whimpered in distress and happiness. Behind the mask, my closed eyes fluttered. The man kept hammering away, his dick thickening, too.

My indignation returned in a rush. I’d got mine, and I was done with this game. I said the only thing I knew would be certain to bring things to a halt.

“Arran Daniels, your permission to fuck me has been revoked.”

The man stalled, his hips stopping their jack-hammer action. Still inside me, he crowded in, his mouth coming next to my ear.

God, it was him. Arran. I knew his scent, just like I knew every other element that made up the man I’d tied myself to. Relief sprang tears to my eyes.

Anger followed.

He hadn’t let me know it was him. Not until now. But then again, I’d done this to myself. My anger was for us both.

Arran breathed. With my words, I’d stolen his chance to come.

Then sure fingers peeled back the mask where it had slipped down to cover my lips. Arran kissed me, rolling his hips to fuck into me again.

I couldn’t stop kissing him back. Allowing his tongue into my mouth to own mine. He filled two of my holes, his ownership clear to everyone around us. Then just as his dick thickened again, he pulled out. Liquid spilled over my belly. Ran down my skin, cool and unexpected.

Just like that, my emotions crested, and I burst into tears.

Chapter 27

Genevieve

My ankles and wrists were freed, my waist restraint undone, then I was released into Arran’s arms. His angry curse came with his draping my ruined dress over me as best he could. Then he picked me up bride-style, and I curled in on myself, leaving the mask on and trusting him to manage me, like the night he’d claimed me and had taken me from this place.

All I wanted was to get out of there.

Arran carried me away, and I had no idea where we’d end up. Only caring that he had me. Cooler air danced over my limbs, the sounds changing to tell me we were in the corridor, then something dinged and a lift moved us.

“Want to keep the mask on?” Arran adjusted his grip on me. His tone was surprisingly tender.

“For now.” My voice came out thick, though I’d got the tears under control.

“The room was cleared. No one was watching at the end,” he said.

I made no reply, though thank God for that small mercy. Arran walked me out of the lift. We were further up in the warehouse, probably at the top. I’d counted eight floors when I’d scoped the place, nine including the basement.

Another pause, a door opened, a click which told me Arran had turned on lights, then he was setting me down.

He lifted the mask, drawing it up over my hair. His gaze roamed my face. “You were crying.”

I claimed the mask to wipe down my cheeks. “I’m not now.”

He held my gaze for a moment then nodded, handing me something from the end of the sofa. A blanket? No, a hoodie. I dragged it on, not caring if it got messed up from the sticky cum on my body. It would be all over Arran’s clothes, too, and not just his arousal but mine as well.