The Mask She Wears

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The Mask She Wears Page 3

by Jennifer Leeland


  It was his smell. She sensed his movements, but her body grew wet just from his scent. It was him. David had sent him again. Why would he do that? What did it mean? She didn't care.

  Excitement bubbled inside her. She wanted the touch this man brought to her.

  One finger slid down her throat with a firm touch. From her neck and over her breasts, it dipped into her belly button and ran along the crease between her thighs. She arched and thrashed, unable to keep still, but unlike the first time, there was no dominant restraint. Only that torturous light touch as his finger skimmed down her legs and stroked behind her knee. When he reached the sole of her foot, she was mindless. How could such a small touch make her so needy, so crazy?

  Then his tongue licked and teased up the same trail his finger had just traced. Up her leg, behind her knee and when his hot breath hovered over her clit, she heaved and strained to get closer.

  Instead of giving her what she wanted, he stole along her hip to her breast and circled her nipple. With patient attention, he slid his tongue over the now deep ridge of her erect flesh. Flicking one nipple with his tongue, his hand cupped her breast, holding it against his warm mouth. When he nipped it between his teeth, she screamed with pleasure and struggled for breath.

  The intensity of her pleasure both exhilarated her and frightened her, her body tense and languid all at the same time. How was that possible? Then her thoughts scattered when he shifted his position.

  He was on top of her, his body covering her like a warm blanket. The tip of his penis rubbed against her entrance, wet and ready for him. He held back and gently bit her neck, nipping her exposed flesh while rolling one of her nipples between his fingers. His mouth finally covered one of breast and sucked rhythmically. His arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer.

  Her hips writhed frantic against him, trying to find the one thing her pussy wanted, but his cock remained out of reach. He released her breast and slid down her body, taking her clit in his mouth. The walls of her pussy contracted and clenched, and her orgasm was quick and hard. She had never come this fast, but she wanted him so much. His touch was reverent, beautiful, caring.

  Catherine went absolutely still. Caring? She was connecting with him. Her head thrashed back and forth in denial. He stopped.

  It was as if he knew she was fighting her release, fighting him. With tender hands, he stroked her hair and laid his head on her chest. He wasn't forcing her submission by trying to fuck her. He just lay there, waiting, his cock still nestled between her legs.

  And she still wanted him.

  Was she going to be afraid forever? Would she let her mother's failures dictate her life? No. She wouldn't.

  Arching her hips, she scraped across his rigid flesh, back and forth sending a message the only way she could.

  His hands were on her again, stroking, caressing, and coaxing her closer to the release she craved. He left her for only a moment, and then his body covered her again. His cock entered her inch by inch, taking infinite care. His chest hair stimulated her nipples, and his hips twisted, sending a wave of sweet pleasure over her.

  With torturous control, he stroked her pussy with his velvet steel, increasing the urgency until he was pounding her willing body. She clenched around him, muscles tight and screaming into her mask. His muscles knotted, and his release was powerful and intense inside her. Tears streamed down her cheeks within the mask, and her breath came fast through her nostrils. Her pulse slowed and steadied as she waited for his next move. Would he leave now?

  She shuddered with renewed desire and her pussy clenched around his spent cock as he withdrew from her in a torturous slide.

  Hands on her wrists tenderly removed her restraints. Shock held her completely still. Didn't he know that was against the rules? Didn't David tell him? She waited, but nothing else happened. Her hands were free, but she didn't know if he was there or not. Or what he expected.

  The question was, did she want to see him? Twice this man made a connection with her that she thought impossible. It was risky to take off the mask. Was she ready to give him that much of herself? And if she didn't, would he ever give her another chance? She didn't know what frightened her more—to know who he was or to remain ignorant.

  Tentatively, her fingers undid the straps and the zippers surrounding her face. As the mask fell away, she blinked, the light blinding her for a moment.

  Her vision focused, and his large form came into view.

  Justin Travers.

  Chapter Five

  Fear shot through Catherine. Not only was this someone she connected with here, in David's safe haven, but someone she connected with in the real world. What could she do? She didn't want this. It was confining, frightening.

  Though she'd known it might be him, he represented everything that terrified her. An emotional bond, intimacy, love. She clasped her shaking hands and wrung them so hard her skin turned white.

  As she met his eyes, her past rose up and pierced her soul. She felt betrayed. By David. By herself. By Justin. It wasn't reasonable, but anger took over and Catherine ran with it rather than the fear that ripped through her.

  Wrapping her emotions up in a tight ball, she shoved them down until her stomach churned from the effort. “Why did you release my hands?"

  Justin's brow furrowed. “David gave me permission to break the rules. He figured you'd remove the mask if you wanted to."

  "Well, I've removed it.” Bitter anger tinged her voice with a sneer. “I don't know what you thought would happen now. I assume you'd like to change the rules to suit yourself."

  Justin blinked at her from where he sat on the end of the bed. The sight of his naked body stirred her blood, but she ignored it. Get away from me. The thought screamed in her head. She was damaged, incomplete, had nothing to offer him. Yet he broke through barriers she had carefully crafted for years. What right did he have to turn her world upside down?

  His eyes narrowed on her face. “I didn't change the rules. You didn't have to remove the mask."

  That he was correct only fueled the anger, and she desperately needed to get rid of him, distance him. “I was curious. Now, my curiosity is satisfied. You can leave.” She hardened her heart against the pained expression on his face.

  He took a deep breath and picked up his clothes. “I see I made a mistake."

  "Yes, you did.” Her throat hurt from the effort to hold back her tears.

  Justin gave her one last perusal then strode to the door, and with his hand on the knob, he paused, not meeting her eyes. “It was a mistake I would do all over again. Good luck, Catherine."

  With that, he left.

  Why did he have to release her? Why couldn't he have just left things the way they were? Now, the real world intruded on her fantasy world, and she didn't know how to put things back the way they were. She didn't even know if she wanted to.

  Catherine collapsed into a mass of helpless tears. David was there immediately, sitting by her as she sobbed as if her heart was cracking.

  * * * *

  Sleep was again elusive as the week began. Catherine cried herself into a restless sleep and then tossed and turned all night. She avoided the café to keep from meeting Justin. Yet, staying away made her miserable.

  On Thursday, she found herself sitting in the restaurant, eating her usual lunch and attempting to keep her eyes off the door. Even so, she knew immediately when he came in. The connection was instant.

  His gaze met hers and slid away, void of all expression. Her heart clenched in agony. Though she'd rejected him, hurt him, the bond between them was so strong, she knew when he sat down and every twitch of his muscles. Those talented hands that plugged in his laptop across the room. Those fabulous hands that created sensations she'd never experienced.

  Tears burned the back of her eyelids, and the words on the page of her book blurred. The food in front of her tasted like sawdust. Pushing her salad away, she picked up her things and left as quickly as possible.

  * * * *<
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  Justin followed Catherine's retreating figure as she escaped with her head down. Her hair slipped out of the clip she wore. Pain spread through his chest. What could he do? He'd made it clear that he wanted her, not just her body.

  The waves of electricity between them were agonizing. What he wanted was to sling her over his shoulder, take her home and force her to accept him as her master. Yet, he knew she wasn't ready for the kind of mutual trusting relationship they both needed.

  Moving on to another sub seemed empty, dissatisfying. He was obsessed with Catherine. Her generous breasts, her wild, dark hair and her sensual vulnerability were all he could think about. Contemplating another woman was impossible. He wanted her.

  It was a unique experience for him. Sex was always give and take, light and easy. This element of need and desperation made him rethink what he wanted in his life.

  Avoiding David's was imperative. Perhaps moving to Humboldt County was a mistake. Maybe he ought to move back to the city where there were no complications. Just that thought made his throat tighten and his head hurt. What else could he do?

  Closing up his computer, he gathered his things and went back to work.

  * * * *

  Catherine stood at David's doorstep and prayed he was home as she knocked frantically on his door. Who else could help her? Who knew her sexual issues better than he did?

  When he opened the door, the surprise and concern on his face told her better than a mirror how wracked she must appear. “What am I going to do?” David widened the door and let her pass through. He knew not to touch her, just as he had the night Justin left the bedroom.

  "What's wrong?” he asked her.

  "I can't wear the mask anymore. I put it on, and I feel suffocated, frightened. How did this happen?"

  He studied her with a thoughtful expression. “I've never seen you this rattled. What do you want to do?"

  "I want to go back to the way it was when the mask gave me safety and security.” She plopped down into one of his comfortable overstuffed chairs and ran impatient fingers through her hair. “Why did you send him to me again? After what happened the first time?"

  "You've trusted me for this long. Why won't you trust me now?"

  He was right and Catherine knew it. David had kept her safe the last four years, and it hadn't been easy. She wanted to keep her distance from her male partners. She wanted to remain anonymous. David, as her mentor, enforced the rules so that she didn't have to. For her, it had all been easy, freeing. David had all the responsibility, and she had her needs met.

  "I do trust you.” The words clogged her throat. “I'm scared.” She wrapped her arms around her body and rocked with her eyes closed.

  "I warned you about this."

  Tears burned the inside of her eyelids. “I know.” He had warned her.

  The first time she'd broken the one rule of his house, she'd been unsafe. She allowed a dom to control her with no safe word in sensory deprivation. David had been furious. He'd almost banned Catherine from his parties. But she'd told him the truth-the reason why she needed the mask. The reason she needed to relinquish emotional connection during sex.

  It took a month of discussion, but he made the rules and taught her how to be a safe submissive and never once had he touched her in a sexual way.

  Her tears squeezed out of the corner of her eyes. “I'm sorry."

  David waved a hand. “Stop that. Do you want him?"

  She froze. Then she managed a choked “Yes."

  "You know what you have to do.” David's voice was firm and brooked no argument. “You have to tell him."

  She knew he was right, and she was terrified. Tell Justin? About her past? Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed on David's face. He nodded as if she'd answered him.

  She shook her head. “He won't be able to handle it."

  "I did.” He held her gaze, his blue eyes intense.

  "But you're—” She couldn't put into words why it was different with David.

  "I'm not a potential partner, is that it? I was safe, wasn't I?” He nodded slowly. “It's a lot easier to tell a dark secret to someone when they're not as important."

  She protested. “You're very important to me."

  His smile was tender. “But I'm not going to screw you, and we both knew it instantly. Justin is different. You've wanted him. Both with the mask and without it."

  Terror sliced along Catherine's nerves. She did want Justin. Even before she knew he played at BDSM parties. That thought alone was frightening. Add to it that he broke through her heightened defenses in an anonymous sexual encounter and it made her insides shake.

  David leaned forward in his seat and took her quaking hands in his. “Tell him, Catherine. Don't hide from this anymore."

  She swallowed. “What if—” She clenched her hands within David's. “What if he walks away? I don't know if I can handle that."

  David stroked the back of her fists with his thumb. “Then you'll deal with it. You're stronger than you think. You've survived something ugly and turned it in your favor. Compared to that, this is a cake walk."

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I'll take your word for it.” She opened her hands and held his, and her smile wobbled a little. “Thank you. Again."

  He grinned. “You're welcome. Again. Now, go find him."

  Chapter Six

  The next day Catherine waited for Justin at the café and searched the street for him. He finally strode through the door, and just as before, their eyes met. When his gaze started to slide away, she forced herself to approach him.

  "Justin, do you have a minute?” She kept her eyes on the floor in true submissive form.

  The silence that followed wrenched her heart. Would he reject her as she rejected him? He had every reason to.

  "Sure.” His tone implied indifference, but he ordered his meatball sandwich and sat down at her table. She clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting as fear tore through her aching heart. She shot a glance at him. Distant and impassive. She didn't know what he was thinking or feeling.

  "I—” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I had a talk with David last night."

  "So?” The one word delivered with no emotion.

  "I think I overreacted last weekend. I'd like to explain."

  "I see.” Nothing. No emotion.

  "But not here.” She squirmed in her seat.

  "Where would you suggest?"

  She locked gazes with him. His eyes were blue ice, but she wasn't going to back down now. If she told him and he didn't give her a second chance, she'd have to deal with it.

  "I wonder if you would come to my house for dinner tonight ... if it's convenient.” Stilted, yes, but she got it out.

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stared at her. Emotion swirled in his eyes, but she couldn't tell if it was anger or desire. “I can do that. What time?"

  Nervous relief almost made her giggle, but she managed to restrain herself. “Would seven o'clock be too late?” She dropped her gaze to the table again.

  "I'll be there."

  * * * *

  Anticipation sizzled along Justin's veins as he approached Catherine's tiny apartment. He had no idea what he would find but when she flung the door open after one rap, he was sure she had been waiting for him, nervous. She seemed strung tight, and her eyes flickered from his face to the floor and back again. Yes, she was definitely nervous.

  He took his time observing her space. Catherine was allowing him into her private life, and he wanted to learn who she was without the mask, without the leather.

  There were no family pictures, but artwork hung on every wall. She favored darker themes with abstract tones, and he found himself lost in one of the oil paintings in her living room. The painting showed a half man, half wolf with a mask superimposed over his wolf face. The benign human mask covered the animal snarl beneath it. In Justin's mind, that revealed a lot about the woman who bought the painting.

  The r
est of the apartment was neat, tidy, clean within an inch of its life. There were no flowers or doilies, but bookcases filled with books on everything from the BDSM lifestyle to dark fantasy.

  While he scanned the room, she set her small table in the kitchen and placed a chicken casserole in the center of the table. With a small wave of her hand, she indicated one of the chairs and he sat down. He studied her as she dished up a heaping portion and placed it in front of him.

  If someone painted a picture of terror, Catherine's demeanor would do well for a model. Whatever she was going to reveal created unreasonable fear that made her sweat and fidget. She sat down and waited for him to pick up his fork and eat.

  When he tasted her cooking, he was thrilled to find her brilliant. Everything was a myriad of sensation, and it showed a delicate touch.

  "This is delicious,” he murmured.

  "Thank you.” She began to eat, eyes downcast.

  "Catherine, tell me why I'm here."

  "I said I would explain, but I'm not sure I can do it."

  Her brown eyes were liquid gold as moisture gathered and her hands trembled. A tear slid down her cheek, causing his stomach to clench. He reached out with his fingers and stroked her clenched fist. “Do you think I haven't heard horrible things from people in the life? Most of us have chains, pasts that keep us from being close to someone else."

  She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. Her lashes closed over her eyes for a brief moment, and she took a deep breath. “I need to tell you why I wear the mask."

  "Okay."

  "I knew I was a submissive really young. I started having submissive fantasies when I was ten or eleven. The mask wasn't part of them then."

  "But then something happened?"

  She nodded. “My first time was ... awful. I wanted to be a sub, but ... I didn't know what that really meant."

  Justin didn't speak, but he took her hand in his. Her fingers were ice cold.

  "I was so ... young, and he was much older.” She seemed to struggle to find the words. “He ... said things. He told me I was fat and ugly. He told me I was a convenience."

 

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