Chapter 8 Cameo #3
“One day,” I crooned softly, rubbing his cock with the flat blade until he let out a near sob of need, hips grinding in the faintest, neediest bid for more.
“I’ll use this on your pretty skin.” I promised, swiftly cutting the other side of his underwear to free his swollen cock with a twitch. “Leave my pretty marks all over you.”
Joon shivered when I didn’t remove the knife, choosing instead to glide it across his thighs.
He shuddered, and for a moment, I worried I said the wrong thing again.
My foot-in-mouth disease symptoms were always at their worst when I was around Joon.
But instead of anger, or calling it quits with his safe word, I found myself on the receiving end of something much sweeter.
“Please, Master,” Joon whispered desperately, begging with his eyes as much as his sweet, devastatingly needy tone. “I need… I-I need…” He was such a mess, he couldn’t even finish, his chest heaving with the effort to stay still.
“Oh, Gattino,” I crooned softly, toeing the line of condescension as I flicked the blade shut, stowing it away into my back pocket. “Does my needy little pin cushion want to be touched?”
“Y-yes.”
“Stroke yourself,” I demanded, my hand on his pelvis moving to circle back around his throat.
He wasted no time, hand flying to his cock to pump quickly, chasing his pleasure between whimpers and moans.
“Slower.”
A whine slipped through his lips at the order, stirring to life the alpha in me that needed to assuage whatever ailed the delicate creature in my grasp as his hand slowed, fingers tight where they wrapped around his cock.
He wasn’t huge, by any standard, his slightly curved shaft an inch or two shorter than my own and rosier than the rest of his smoothly tan skin, but I was mesmerised nonetheless.
The glide of his hand, helped along by luxurious beads of precum leaking needily from his tip, the uneven rise and fall of his chest, to the heavy lidded expression on his face—it all culminated into something so beautiful I wished to preserve it like one of the meticulously pinned butterflies hanging on my wall.
I could hardly take it anymore, the strain against my zipper becoming uncomfortable the longer that I denied my needs in favor of watching.
Another feminine moan met my ears, too high to be Joon’s, but I didn’t care, hardly noticed with the way he whimpered as my fingers flexed along his neck possessively.
Giving in to my desire, I unbuckled my belt and pants with my free hand, the metal of the buckle jangling as I freed my cock.
Joon’s lips parted in shock, eyes locking on my rigid length with a look just shy of worship.
“Holy shit.”
I let my hand drift over it lazily, relieving some of the pressure that’d been building since he came down the stairs in that ludicrous get-up–there’d always been something about a short skirt and knee-high socks that scratched along the ridges of my brain.
The soft squish of thigh at the top before the hem of the pleated fabric, like a high-pitched whistle demanding my attention.
“Like what you see?” I asked, almost rhetorically, barely concealing my laugh at the omega’s cartoonish bobble of his head in response.
My body inched a bit closer until my cock hovered over his. The larger, thicker length almost made Joon’s disappear from my view.
“Hold them together,” I ordered, adjusting to get low enough to facilitate the motion, purplish knot at the base already threatening to swell.
I tightened my abs to stave off—it wouldn’t be long until I was buried in my omega’s tight little hole, rutting him into the floor like a beast, and I didn’t want to waste a single drop of the cum he deserved on the floor.
Joon was quick to comply, adjusting his fingers with some difficulty to try and stroke us at the same time with a shuddered breath.
Sure, it’d taken a bit of work to wear the omega down, but that only made his current compliance more delicious. Joon was putty in my hands, and soon, he’d be bound to me in a way that couldn’t be severed.
“Just like that,” I praised roughly, voice tight with pleasure. “Such a good little fucktoy. See how good it feels to follow instructions? To pleasure your master?”
I threw the honorific he’d used for me back at him, and Joon groaned, moaning as he fucked into his own hand, rubbing his precum-slick cock against mine. “Fuck, Cameo, yes, it feels so—”
The rising sound of a woman moaning made him pause, wet and garbled. That was expected, given where we were—but what was a surprise, what made Joon’s hand still, was the inclusion of Marcus’ voice.
For one incredulous moment, I’d thought that my lust-drunk, hazy mind had conjured the sound itself. But Marcus and I had never been that way, good friends and willing participants in sharing the odd partner, but not romantically inclined.
But when that all too familiar salty-sweet scent hit my nose, I knew that it wasn’t my imagination.
I pulled away from Joon, and he whined, an indignant look taking over his features. “Hey! We weren’t—”
“Come here, Gattino,” I interrupted, standing and tucking my cock away before offering my hand to help him off the floor.
His hand was quickly in mine, and I relished the act of obedience, tugging the omega to his feet with a soft brush of my palm to dislodge the dust from his back before we were off, following my ears and nose towards where Marcus was hiding, just two more corridors from where I’d caught Joon.
“Cameo, what—” Joon started, before falling silent, his eyes landing on the same sight as mine.
For a second, I was worried I was seeing double.
Marcus had his cock balls deep into a pink pigtailed omega’s mouth where she kneeled on the ground in front of him.
A sinfully short plaid skirt and a carefully tied button-up shirt revealing the curve of her ass.
But when I looked closer, it was obvious they weren’t the same.
Her face was heart-shaped, and her tits bounced on every thrust into her mouth, threatening to spill out of her top.
It wasn’t long before I could parse out her sweet but earthy strawberry matcha scent from the others around us, my mind placing the scent as the same one I’d smelled on Joon.
It was a bit of a shock, I couldn’t smell it from where Joon and I had been playing, given how intense it was. But I’d been so focused on my omega that I’d entirely blocked out the clear signs of another in heat close by.
And she was definitely in heat, her skin nearly glowing with warmth as a sheen of sweat slicked along her neck and chest, sticking her shirt to her back.
Joon’s eyes moved between Marcus and the girl with a mix of need and jealousy, thighs pressing together as he hesitated.
“Fuck,” he whispered on a moan, leaning into my side heavily. “Eva?”