Chapter 16 The Real Thing
“What’s up with you today?” Oliver asks while we’re looking for snacks in the kitchen.
I catch the bag of sour candy he throws me. “Nothing. Why?”
“You seem… nervous. Jittery.”
I shrug. “Just had too much caffeine today.” I did down an energy drink and a milk-and-sugar-infused coffee before lunch, but that’s not the real reason.
Oliver gives me a doubtful look. “Okay. Just tell me if you need anything.”
I grimace as he turns around. I feel horrible for lying to him; I always do, but I can’t very well tell him I’m about to get fucked by his brother tonight.
Barely a week has passed since my first night in Mason’s room, and I’m already about to let him top me.
Not just let him… I’ve fucking begged for it.
I’ve squirmed and whimpered and asked him to put it inside me.
It’s so strange—when I’m in his room, it feels right to do all those things, but during the day, it’s different.
I don’t regret it exactly, but it sure doesn’t feel as undeniably right as it feels in the moment, when I’m in his bed. I imagine this is what people feel like when they’ve done something stupid when they’re drunk, and then they feel weird about it the next day when they’ve sobered up.
I don’t have alcohol to use as an explanation for my actions, though. What I do or don’t do with Mason is all on me.
Weirdly enough, the faint sense of regret doesn’t take away from my excitement and nerves for tonight. The mere thought of what’s about to happen puts me in danger of getting hard, even as I’m standing by the kitchen island with Oliver and eating candy.
Maybe I just need to get it over with—have Mason fuck me and get it out of my system. It’s what everything has been building up to anyway, right? Everything about one, then two, then three fingers is all about edging and teasing me for the grand finale.
Maybe he feels the same. As soon as he’s fucked me, maybe he’ll lose interest in our secret arrangement. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility, but the thought makes me chew the candy slower, and my brow furrows.
I don’t want it to be over. I want it to keep going. If it doesn’t, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve come to rely on it; I’ve come to crave it so badly I don’t know what to do with myself when Mason’s not around. And that fact on its own is dangerous.
It’s not just the sex anymore. We almost kissed last night.
I suspect he’d deny it if I brought it up, but that glance at my lips as he leaned in was undeniable.
He wanted it. I wanted it too. Kissing is another type of intimacy than sex, but they often go hand in hand, so would it be so bad if our lips met? I don’t know.
I brush my lower lip absentmindedly with a piece of candy.
Flicking my tongue out, I lick away the sour sugar of the gummy before I pop it in my mouth.
I wonder what he’d taste like. If he’d moan, or if he’d stay as stoic and in control as he tends to when we’re having sex.
I kind of want to find out. Maybe in due time.
The rest of the day moves slowly. The summer heat is back, and that, paired with my restlessness, makes everything tedious, almost excruciating.
As if that wasn’t enough, Oliver wants us to raid a dungeon before we go to sleep, and the clock is nearing four when we finally take our eyes off the screens.
I lie awake in the darkness, listening for signs that Oliver is falling asleep. It takes longer than usual. Finally, he’s snoring, and once I’ve waited for another few minutes to make sure he’s sleeping deeply enough, I’m off.
To the room at the end of the hallway. To Mason’s room.
To find him lying in bed as usual, scrolling on his phone.
When I step inside, he sets his phone aside and gets up to greet me—that is, if greeting means slowly approaching someone while wearing nothing but a thin chain around one’s neck and a smirk that rivals a shark’s.
“Almost thought you wouldn’t show up,” he says. “It’s pretty late, puppy.”
“Sorry.”
“Were you scared?” He runs a finger along the band of my choker. “Is that why?”
“No, um… Oliver kept us up.”
Mason lifts my shirt over my head, and his eyes light up at the sight of the marks he left on my skin last night.
There’s a whole collage of them at this point, in various stages of healing.
He runs a finger over them, one by one, and I shudder at his touch.
He’s taking his sweet time, but he knows what I wanted by coming here.
I’ve endured the slow stretch of one, two, then three fingers, and now I’m finally getting what I wanted all along.
Impatient, I reach for the hem of my boxers, but before I can push them down, Mason grabs hold of my hands and shifts them away.
He chuckles under his breath. “In a rush?”
“I want… I want it.”
“Yeah? Tell me what you want, puppy.”
I pout. “You know.”
He smirks and palms the front of my boxers. My dick is already straining against the fabric. “Do I?”
My eyes slide shut, and I rock into his touch.
“Please.” The word tumbles past my lips before I can stop it.
Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so many hours—for days, ever since that first finger, first touch, that first fucking look—that I’m near bursting now that I’m finally getting it.
As soon as I step foot in his room, it’s always like the flip of a switch, and I want nothing more than to have his hands on me, his fingers in me, his cock in me.
Mason pushes my boxers down to my knees and frees my dick, and in the next moment, his hand envelops my shaft. “Need some relief before we get started, hmm?”
I nod and moan brokenly as he pumps my cock just once. I feel the weight of his gaze, but I’m not opening my eyes. If I do, I might explode right here and now.
Another pump. Three, and a stroke from base to tip. I lean into his chest and dip my chin, catching a whiff of his armpit. He smells of fresh sweat—sharp, tangy, and masculine—and it all adds to the weight of my desire. It’s already so heavy… I’m already so close…
“It’s okay, puppy,” Mason whispers into my ear.
“You can come. We both know you’ll happily come again.
” His free hand reaches around to my backside, and I inhale a sharp breath as his finger finds my hole.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You’ll get fucked tonight no matter what, ’cause you’ve been such a good puppy, haven’t you? ”
I have. I’ve been good. I’ve waited, I’ve obeyed his every command, and now I’ll finally get what I’ve wanted, what I deserve.
When his hand speeds up and his finger strokes my hole dry, I come with my nose buried in his armpit, moaning softly, feeling a long day’s worth of nervousness and frustration pour out of me in one big rush of pleasure.
Mason puts his arms around me, wrapping me in a warm, protective hug. I come slowly back to life, and when I pull back, I feel myself smiling.
“Feel better now, puppy?” Mason asks.
“Yeah.” I do feel better. I needed to come. I was so stuck in my head before, and this calmed me down.
Before I know it, I’m on the bed, on all fours, facing the wall. Mason is behind me with his feet on the floor, and he’s parting my cheeks with his fingers. I moan when I feel his hard cock poke my crease. I reach back and grab it, trying to lead it to the place I want it.
“Patience, puppy,” Mason says, amused. “Have to stretch you out first. This little ass of yours is so tight.” He licks his finger and brings it down between my cheeks, stroking my hole. “But you’ve gotten used to my fingers these past few nights, hmm? Think you can take my cock?”
I nod. “I can.”
“Will you be a good puppy and not make a sound?”
Now, that might be harder. “I’ll try.”
Mason reaches for the lube and pumps some into his hand, and when his finger probes my entrance, I push down on it, inviting it inside.
Mason chuckles. “Someone’s eager.”
I am. He can’t blame me; he’s been teasing me with that monster cock of his for a whole week. I thrust back, wanting the finger deeper, wanting him to just fucking take me, but he’s always so slow. So careful. So patient and controlled.
“You’ll take one more finger,” he says. “Then you know what’s going to happen.”
I nod desperately, knowing exactly what he means and wanting it so much I can barely breathe.
I don’t know how it came to this. How I went from just wanting to get off to wanting his cock inside me so badly I could choke. Mason slithers into my mind, whispers sweet filth in my ear, makes me cross every boundary. He knows what I need before I even know it myself. And he makes me love it.
“Please,” I whisper as he slides another finger inside me. “Please.”
“Mm, I love to hear you beg, puppy. Tell me how much you want this.”
“Please… Please give it to me.”
“Give you what?”
“Your…” I gulp, and the next word comes out as barely a whisper. “Your cock.”
“Yeah? Is this what you want?” He withdraws his fingers and grabs his dick, guiding it to my hole. Unthinking, I bear down on it, but Mason chuckles and pulls away. “So eager, you’ll even take it raw, hmm?”
Oh, right. Condoms.
I hear him open a drawer and fish out a packet. I try my best to steady myself, to get ready, while Mason slides a condom over his length and nudges the head against my entrance once more.
“Legs spread, puppy.” He leans in and grabs my hair, massaging my scalp, as if this is a gift he’s about to give me for being so good. He grabs my choker next, tugging at it, ever playful. “Time for the real thing. Are you ready?”
I’m so tense with anticipation that my whole body is shuddering, and I can barely speak. “Nnngh, yes. Ready. Please.”
The first push makes me gasp, and my body protests the intrusion when he slides inside. The burn is intense, and I fist the sheets, eyes filling with tears. Why? I want it so much, yet the pain is still there…