Page 66 of My Turn

“That’s how consent works,” she spat.

“I don’t need your consent when I own your fucking soul.”

Flipping her onto her stomach, I put the leather over her eyes. I lifted her hair to situate the strap so that she wouldn’t be able to get it off without effort, which would allow me ample time to stop her.

Wearing the mask wasn’t an issue for me and I enjoyed playing this part, but one thing I wouldn’t do was fuck her for the first time without being able to use my mouth for whatever I wanted. I wanted to fuck her as me, whether she knew it or not.

This moment right here was the one that would completely secure my place in a hell of my own creation. It was going to tie the essence of my very soul to hers, ensuring that I wascompletely incapable of letting her escape me, no matter what it cost either of us.

Chapter 25

Alana

Without my sight, I expected to fly into a panic. I was certainly freaked out, but I didn’t move. I didn’t try to strike at him or escape. With the deprivation, I was completely focused on what I could feel and hear, which was currently his zipper. There were goosebumps all over my skin that hadn’t gone away since he brought the blindfold out.

I reached up to touch the leather. It was tight but not too uncomfortable. If I tried to get it off, he’d be able to stop me, so I just ran my fingers over it for a moment before I dropped them back to the bed.

He chuckled, which might have scared me more than anything else. This was wrong. I should’ve been fighting him. He hurt me on multiple occasions, hunted me, threatened the people in my life. He was dangerous. And my entire body felt like it was on fire because of it.

I knew I was a little messed up in the head. It came with having a shitty childhood, probably. Maybe I could’ve counteracted it in therapy or something, but I never had an interest in going. My past didn’t haunt me and I didn’t evenknow if it was the actual cause of the things that went through my head.

It didn’t matter. I’d brought it up to Jake a few times, only to feel gross for doing it. I talked to him about CNC and he said it was sick. When I wanted him to use my body like I was just a hole to fuck, he looked at me like I was insane. He thought I wasn’t satisfied with our sex life. I was, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about new things. It wasn’t wrong, but I refused to argue about it with him.

This, though… This was fucking wrong. I’d really lost my mind after losing Jake, along with everything else that had happened recently. This had to be some symptom of my depression. Apathy? The complete collapse of my mental faculties? Something.

There was pressure on my abdomen as he gripped me and turned me onto my back. His hands moved up my body slowly. My heart raced from the contact.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Danger. I should be running, not arching into his touch.

Warmth and wetness touched my nipple and I fisted the sheets. His mask was gone. The blindfold made more sense now. What’d he look like without it?

My fingertips touched the sides of his face, making him stop moving. How did blind people recognize a face by touch? I had no idea how to conceptualize the structure in my mind. His cheekbones were sharp and his skin was soft, except for the stubble on his jaw. Strong bone structure. Full lips. I didn’t feel anything strange like scars or mutilation that I could use to somehow turn myself off from this. He had to be ugly. That was the only option I’d accept.

He turned his face to kiss my palm, then bit down on the ball of my thumb. Taking my wrist, he moved my hand to his chest.It met bare skin over solid muscle. The idea of him being naked reignited my fear as I thought about what that meant.

He was going to fuck me. No, I didn’t want that. I had to do something. He’d assaulted me already, but this…

“Hey,” he cooed, putting a hand on my cheek. “Calm down.”

“I’m scared.”

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” His lips touched the front of my throat just as his dick nudged against me. I had the urge to bend my knees, but that wasn’t the right response, so I stayed still.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Are you more afraid of me hurting you or making you want more?”

When he moved his hips, he slid through my slit. The sting from the tattoo made me gasp, but it was combined with the pressure on my clit as he continued to move back and forth. When he spread my wetness, it burned a little and I clenched my teeth.

“You can’t answer,” he murmured, trailing his lips across my jaw. “Maybe you want me to help you find out.”

A sharp ache erupted in my lower lip from his teeth. I turned my face away and focused on my breathing. He diverted to my breasts- biting, licking, and sucking on my skin. I couldn’t help it; I grabbed the back of his head to hold him there while he created suction around my nipple.

I hadn’t had an orgasm in so long before he tied me up two weeks ago. The sort of desperation I felt now was powerful. It was just a consequence of him stimulating my body, but it was still undeniable.

Suddenly, he pulled back. He wasn’t touching me at all and it made me ache.

“You want me to leave, right?” His voice was soft yet filled the space around me dangerously.