“c*m inside me,” I beg against his mouth. “Please. I want all of you.”
He drives deep one final time and I convulse around him. His name tears out of me. “Kir!” Not the Masked Man, but Kir, the person, the man, my lover, my king. He buries his face in my neck and groans “Jillian” against my pulse, and I feel him let go, hot and gushing inside me. The orgasms roll through us both in one long, united, devastating wave that leaves me shaking underneath him for a very long time once it’s all finally done.
We might’ve forgotten about the Halloween party altogether and laid there for the rest of time if, at that moment, the lights hadn’t turned on. My whole apartment hums to life, flooding the room with warm glow. I squint against it and find Kir already looking down at me, mask bunched up aro
