Page 83 of Secrets and Lies
Unable to stop myself, I push back against his hand, silently begging for more.
He huffs out a soft laugh and works a second finger inside me, still tracing those soothing circles over my back, my ass, and even my thighs, until I relax around him again.
The stretch and burn return when he works a third finger inside me, but at this point, I’m so deep in my pleasure that even the stings of pain feel good.
“Flip over,” he says, his firm command breaking the silence of my room as he pulls his fingers out of me.
I hesitate. Flip over?
“On your back.” He taps my hip.
Slowly, and with as much coordination as a baby deer walking on ice for the first time, I flip onto my back.
I thought seeing him standing behind me was hot, but it has nothing on how he looks looming over me.
The void of darkness where his face should be is disorienting, but it’s also the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I forget to breathe when he rests his hands on my knees and pushes my legsapart, spreading my thighs as wide as they can go. Then he grips me by the waist and yanks me down the bed.
“Eek!” I squeal at the show of strength as he settles me so my ass is hanging off the edge.
I can’t be sure since he’s still wearing his clothes, but I don’t think he’s that much bigger than me. He’s taller, but only by an inch or two, and while it looks like he has broader shoulders, I don’t think our body types are all that different, and the fact that he can so easily manhandle me is impressive as fuck.
I assume he’s either going lube himself up or just shove his dick in me, but he leans over me, blanketing me with his body as he presses me into the mattress.
The sensation of having him over me like this brings me right back to the night of the Hunt, and a sense of familiarity wraps around me. He feels the same.
“Close your eyes,” he says softly.
I obey without thinking, and I have no idea what I’m expecting him to do, but the soft press of his lips against mine isn’t it.
I gasp under his kiss, and I’m so shocked that hewantsto kiss me that I just kind of lie there like a stunned starfish.
He pulls back, and the soft rumble of his laugh doesn’t raise my hackles or defenses like it would if anyone else laughed at me while we were in bed together.
I don’t understand how I know, but I can feel that he’s not making fun of me or laughingatme, and that helps me relax before I can get caught up in another spiral of self-doubt.
“Why?”
“Why did I kiss you?”
I nod, still not opening my eyes.
I have no idea if he pulled his mask back down after kissing me or if I could see exactly who he is if I looked, but I don’t want to.
Knowing who he is will make this real, and I don’t want it to be real. I don’t want to spend the rest of the year, and possibly next year, avoiding one of my frat brothers because I can’t face him after he saw me come undone this way.
It’s fucked up, and I’m going to need so much therapy to even begin to unpack and understandwhyI’m into this, but the only reason I can let go and enjoy having one of my fantasies come true like this isbecauseI don’t know who he is.
“I’m not going to fuck you without kissing you.” His gentle voice breaks me free from another impending spiral. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“But…”
He shifts over me. “Open your eyes, West.”
I blink them open, and my relief when I see he’s pulled his mask down only reinforces how fucked up I am, but I can’t bring myself to care about any of that.
He’s so close I can see more of his eyes now, but between his hood and the dim lighting in the room, the only details I can make out are that they’re a light color, like blue or maybe green, and that his eyebrow game is on point.
A lot of guys in the house have light eyes and darker hair, and great eyebrows, so even though I can see more of him, I still have no idea who he is.
