Chapter 13 Only One
Oliver and I were getting ready for an Xbox session when I heard giggles coming from Mason’s room. High-pitched giggles that couldn’t be his. I just wanted to see who it was. What he was doing in his room with a girl.
Now I feel stupid.
“Want to play fetch?”
Oliver caught me while I was on my way upstairs, clutching two cans of Coke.
“Where are you going with those?” he asked.
“Um, Mason told me to get them. He has a friend over.” I cringed, realizing how weird it sounded.
Oliver said nothing. He just stormed up the stairs, and before long, I heard his clipped tone as he argued with his brother.
I suppose he was just trying to defend me, but he doesn’t know what goes on between Mason and me at night.
The things I’ve done… Far worse things than fetching drinks for him.
Later, when we’re booting up the Xbox, Oliver turns to me with soft eyes.
“Don’t be nice to him, okay?”
I decide it’s best to play innocent. “Why? It was just a favor.”
“He’ll start to expect shit from you.”
“Like what?”
Oliver frowns, and he presses the buttons on his controller with more aggression than usual.
I glance down at my lap. “I’m sorry.”
Oliver sighs. “It’s okay. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll be more careful.”
“Good. Now let’s smash this race.”
We’ve taken to playing racing games on the Xbox as a break between MMO grinding sessions. The living room couch is more comfortable than our gaming chairs, too—you can really sink down deep and enjoy snacks on the side.
During a bathroom break, I inspect my throat in the mirror. I got lucky—my choker hides the hickey Mason sucked into my skin. Any higher, and it would have shown. We’ll have to be more careful next time. He’ll have to be more careful.
I press the pad of my finger over the hickey, remembering the throb of pain and the heat of his mouth on my skin. Fuck, it felt so good when he… when he sucked my skin into his mouth like that and sunk his teeth into me. It felt intimate. Almost like a kiss.
I blush furiously and slide the choker back into place.
He told me to keep it on tonight, and part of me wants to defy him just to show him I don’t have to follow his orders.
To show him this doesn’t mean anything. But there can be pleasure in obedience.
I experienced some of it last night. With his cock in my mouth and his hand in my hair, I felt…
different. Like I was wanted. Needed. Cared for.
It felt good. Better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Fuck, that’s bad, isn’t it? I should stop this, or at least bring it back to clothes-on humping.
And yet… I tug on my choker, pulling it this way and that. I slide a hand around my throat, blushing at my reflection.
Fuck, I want his hand there. Mason’s. I want more of his marks on my body, but they need to be easy to hide. And I want… I want his finger.
“Tomorrow,” he said. I hope he keeps his promise.
When bedtime comes at around three in the morning, I remove my choker and my jeans and get into bed as usual. I make sure Oliver is snoring soundly before I get up and clip my choker back on.
There’s a heightened sense of dread-filled excitement as I sneak down the hallway this time.
How will Mason react to me keeping my choker on? Will he be pleased? A flush warms my neck as I pull on the silver ring at the front of my throat.
When I twist the door handle and step inside, Mason is lying naked on the bed as usual, and when I step inside, his gaze locks on me—also as usual—but when he spots my choker, he smirks and nods, looking quietly pleased. Pleased that I followed his orders. Pleased that I obeyed.
Why does his approval coincide with a heat swirling through my gut and a tightening of my crotch? Why does it feel so good to do what he wants?
My arousal turns to anxiety when he stands up, his heavy cock swinging between his legs. He walks up to me and hooks his finger through the ring at the front of my collar—um, I mean choker.
“Good puppy.” He trails his finger around the band and pulls softly at the back of it, making it dig into my Adam’s apple. I swallow thickly. “Now take your clothes off and lie down on your belly.”
Heart pounding, I pull off my shirt and boxers and lie on the bed, unsure whether he wants me on my hands and knees or—
“Lie flat. Just like that.”
I lie prone, cock smushed into the mattress. A thrill goes through me as Mason straddles my thighs, and I gasp as the length of his cock settles between my ass cheeks, spurring me into a slight panic.
“I… Um—”
“Don’t worry.” Mason leans back, knees locked around my thighs. “It’s not time for the real thing just yet.”
The real thing. I blush furiously, hiding my face in the mattress.
“I’m not a virgin, you know,” I grumble.
“No?”
“I had a boyfriend. He fucked me.”
“And how was it?”
“He was too… careful,” I whisper.
“You need it rough and dirty, hmm?” Mason buries his hand in my messy hair and gives a sharp tug.
My head yanks backward, and a pathetic noise tears from my throat as my eyes fill with tears.
Fuck, that felt good. But why do I suddenly feel emotional?
It’s just… I was so frustrated every time I slept with Micah.
I feared that every sexual encounter from then on would be just as unsatisfying.
That asking for what I truly wanted would be too weird. Abnormal.
“Don’t worry, puppy,” Mason says. “I’ll give you what you need. But we have to be quiet, okay? Don’t want Oliver to hear.”
I nod. We don’t.
Mason begins by framing my ass in his hands. Thumbs by the crease of my thighs, he plumps it up, massages it, squeezes it. It feels good, and I’m hard already. Soon enough, his thumbs trail to my crack, and he parts my cheeks, exposing that private part of me.
“So pretty,” he says, voice a pleased purr. “You’re all pink back here, do you know that?”
“N-No,” I whisper, the mix of embarrassment and anticipation so thrilling and confusing that I don’t know what to do with myself. So I just stay still, letting him play with me and do whatever he wants.
“Give me that bottle. The big one,” he adds, and I hear the smirk in his voice.
I reach over to the nightstand and hand him the bottle of lube.
I hear as he pumps it, and the next thing I know, cold drops land at the top of my crack.
His fingers are next, spreading it around.
He takes his time sliding the lube up and down my crease, all the way down to my balls.
When he brushes my hole, I gasp and try to spread my thighs, wanting more friction, more of everything, but Mason sits heavily on top of me, pinning my legs in place.
Finally, he circles my hole, probing, pressing, but not pushing inside. Another squirt of lube, this time right over my hole. Mason scoops it up with his finger and rubs it over my entrance, up and down, until the pressure is getting more frustrating than pleasurable.
I arch my back, pushing my ass up toward his touch. Just put it in. Just put it in.
Mason chuckles. “Patience, puppy.”
I slump into the mattress with an impatient groan as Mason pulls at my tight rim with both his thumbs, pressing at it, his grip firm despite the slip and slide of the lube.
I feel myself slowly relax, getting used to the position, his touch, and his knees enclosing my hips. I feel trapped, and it feels so good.
My eyelids flutter, and I tilt my head, daring a look up at him, lips parted. Wanting, wanting, wanting.
When I least expect it and most want it, the pressure increases, and I feel my hole widen and stretch as Mason presses a finger past my rim.
“Oh,” I whine, a choked-out sound. I tense, and it burns a bit, but when I make an effort to relax, it just feels good. So good. I never felt this good when Micah fingered me, even though he was just as careful as Mason.
The finger slips deeper, then pulls out again, twisting before it sinks back in with slow, determined movements.
I moan and part my legs as far as they can go, my cock pressing up against my belly as Mason’s finger sinks all the way inside.
I try to keep quiet, but I can’t help the drawn-out whines pouring from my lips, and I can’t resist wiggling my lower half a little, trying to silently communicate that I can take more, that it feels good, even though I won’t admit it in words.
Mason’s voice floats into my ear, raspy and controlled. “Mm, what a sweet little hole you have.”
I give a choked sound, embarrassed and turned on at the same time. I want him to stop talking, yet I can’t deny that my cock leaks more and more precum with every word, forming a sticky mess underneath me.
“It’s so tight. Can barely fit a finger in here.
” He twists and wiggles the finger inside me as if he’s investigating my hole, and when he tilts his finger some kind of way, he puts pressure on my prostate, and I whine and squirm and wriggle.
Mason leans over me, breath hot against my ear.
“We’re going to have to stretch you out real nice before you can take my cock. ”
I whimper, hiding my face in the crook of my elbow. We haven’t even talked about going all the way, and it should bother me that he’s just bringing it up this casually, as if it’s a done deal, an unspoken agreement, but I’m so fucking close to coming I can’t think straight.
“You’ll need to be trained, puppy,” he continues. “First, one finger.” He pulls out and sinks back in. “Then two. Then three. And then maybe…” He rocks forward, letting me feel the weight of his cock on my ass. “The real thing.”
Oh, fuck. I want that. I want him to… I want him to fuck me. I just know he’d do it so good. So confident and rough. Deep, hard thrusts splitting me open…
I rub myself desperately against the sheets, the buildup of my orgasm reaching a toe-curling crescendo. I’ve been close for so long, yet it still takes me by surprise. I grip the sheets with both hands as my orgasm hits, my ass pulsing and hips jerking.
Fuuuck… So good.