The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 118: Prefer Raymond
Oliver’s POV
I led her to the bed, the room dimly lit and heavy with the scent of her fear and desire. My hands were steady as I reached for the zipper of that midnight-blue dress, but my mind was a battlefield.
As the fabric pooled at her feet, I saw her body again. My eyes immediately locked onto the faint, reddish mark on her shoulder—the claim I had left as Oliver just hours ago. Seeing it there while I stood over her as Raymond made my blood boil.
I didn’t know if I should be mad at her or myself. Barely a day since I’d worshipped her, she was here, offering herself to another man. A dark thought clawed at my throat: What if I wasn’t Raymond? What if Raymond was someone else? Would she be standing here naked for him, too?
My wolf didn’t care about the logic. He didn’t care about the lies. He just wanted to be back inside her, to reclaim what was ours. He was howling, pacing against my ribs, demanding I stop thinking and start taking.
I hesitated, my hand hovering near her waist. Aurora noticed. She looked up at me, her chest heaving. "Are you having second thoughts, Raymond?"
"No," I rasped, the green lenses of my mask fixed on her. "Are you?"
She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. "No... but there’s something I have to tell you. Before we... before you do this."
"Go on," I said, my voice cold.
"I’m no longer a virgin," she whispered, looking down at the floor. "I had sex last night. With the Alpha King."
I felt a sharp, twisted jolt in my chest. I nodded slowly, playing the part of the cold Dom. "I noticed the mark," I said, tracing the bruise on her shoulder with a gloved finger. "Did you like it? Was it everything you wanted for your first time?"
I leaned in closer, my breath ghosting over her ear. "Was it him you wanted as your first, Aurora? Or did it just happen?"
She didn’t even hesitate. She looked me right in the eye, her voice soft but certain. "It was perfect. He was... perfect. It was exactly how I wanted it to be."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Hearing her defend "Oliver" while she stood before "Raymond" was a mind-fuck I wasn’t prepared for. Part of me was soaring with pride, but the jealous man in the mask wanted to rip the world apart.
"If he’s so perfect," I growled, stepping back and crossing my arms, "then why aren’t you with him right now? Why are you in your bedroom, asking a man like me to bind you? Why don’t you just go back to your perfect King?"
Aurora swallowed hard, looking embarrassed.
"He’s in Canada," she whispered, her lip trembling. "And I... I feel things when I’m around you, Raymond. Dark things. Things I can’t explain. He makes me feel safe, but you make me feel alive in a way that terrifies me."
My wolf let out a low, guttural snarl at the back of my throat. She felt safe with Oliver, but she wanted to burn with Raymond. I hated that she was dividing me in two—loving the light while surrendering to the shadow.
"So you are saying the Alpha King is boring?" I challenged.
She quickly shook her head but didn’t say a word to back it up.
I felt pain. "Safe is boring, isn’t it, little bird?" I stepped back into her space, my height looming over her small frame. "You want to know how it feels to be fucked by a Dom?"
I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a long, silk scarf.
"Turn around," I commanded.
She obeyed, her back smooth and pale in the dim light. I could see the slight tremor in her shoulders. I took her wrists and pulled them in front of her as I looped it tight—not enough to hurt, but enough for it not to loosen.
Then, I reached for the blindfold.
"Wait," she gasped, her head snapping up to look at me. "Raymond, I—"
"You asked for this," I reminded her, my gaze cold. "You don’t get to see me. That is the only way this will happen."
She swallowed hard and gave a nod of approval.
I slipped the fabric over her eyes and tied it securely. Now, she was completely at my mercy. She was blind, bound, and vulnerable, and I was the only thing in her world.
My hands moved over her curves, tracing the lines of her body with a possessive heat. I felt her skin break out in goosebumps as my fingers brushed over the mark on her shoulder again.
"He touched you here," I murmured, my lips ghosting over her ear. "He was ’perfect,’ was he? Did he make you scream like I’m going to?"
"Raymond..." she moaned, her head falling back against my chest.
"Don’t say my name," I hissed, my hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her flush against my black jeans. I needed to feel her, but I was terrified that if I stayed in these clothes any longer, I’d lose my mind.
I began to unbutton my shirt with one hand, keeping the other firmly on her waist to guide her. I had to be careful. I had to keep the lights low and my movements calculated. I was about to cross a line I could never uncross.
I was going to fuck my woman while she thought I was another man.
"Tell me, Aurora," I whispered, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. "How do you want it?"
She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she tilted her head back, searching for my touch. "Rough," she choked out. "I want you to be rough with me, Raymond."
The word felt like a physical blow to my gut. Rough.
A bitter realization washed over me. Last night, as Oliver, I had been so careful. I had treated her like a porcelain doll, terrified of breaking her, of scaring her away. I had been gentle, worshipful, and slow. And here she was, barely twenty-four hours later, begging Raymond for the very thing the King had been too afraid to give her. Was my gentleness not enough? Was the King really that boring to her?
My wolf didn’t care about the insult. He only heard the invitation.
I reached out and unhooked her bra. Her breasts spilled into my hands, and I groaned low in my throat, the heat of her skin making my blood roar. I moved fast, stripping her lace panties down her legs until she was completely bare before me. The scent of her arousal hit me like a wave—heavy, sweet, and entirely focused on the man she thought I was.
I stepped back for a moment, my fingers trembling as I shed my own black jeans. I stood before her, fully naked. If she could see me now—see the way my muscles flexed, the specific scar on my hip, the sheer size of me—she would know in an instant. I was Oliver.
But with the blindfold, she surely wouldn’t have an idea.
I reached out and grabbed her bound hands, guiding them down. Her fingers were cold against my feverish skin as I pressed them onto my aroused cock.
She let out a sharp, audible gasp, her fingers twitching against me. I felt her entire body shudder as she felt the length of my cock.
"I want you to feel what is about to enter you," I hissed, leaning down so my lips were an inch from hers.
She let out a soft, broken moan, her knees buckling slightly. She gripped me tighter, her thumb brushing over the head of my member, and I nearly lost it right then and there.
"Please," she whimpered, her head thrashing against the pillow as I pushed her back onto the mattress. "Please, Raymond. Now."
I crawled over her, my body hovering over hers, my cock rubbing against her wetness.
