Chapter 49 #2
Whatever feelings he hid in the depths of his irises weren’t the sort of feelings borne of meaningless hookups.
I could see that. I felt it twisting the knife in my chest, gutting me tenderly.
I wished I knew everything that existed between them, every knot in their rope, but I didn’t.
I was too scared to ask, and they were too deceitful to tell me.
So, I watched without speaking. The blade in my lungs almost made me like it even more. I’d made Micah touch him, after all. I wanted to see them together, no matter the internal bleeding it caused me.
Micah started jerking him faster, his hand shifting in deliberate motions. He kept me tucked back against his body, so I could feel his own erection throbbing hot and hard against my ass.
His other hand slid up my stomach, pushing my shirt up over my ribs until he was roughly cupping my breast, groping my bare flesh. Mason watched it, his pupils dilating. I noted the way his breath caught with the tightening of Micah’s strong grip on his length, and I bit my lip.
He looked down at Micah’s hand, his jaw slack and his eyebrows slanting upward.
“I’m gonna come,” he mumbled, voice strangled.
His eyes rolled back just as he came, cum erupting from the tip of his cock and dripping all over Micah’s fist, trickling slow over the veins on the back of his hand.
Micah kept stroking him through to the end, then slowed down, before using his index finger to swipe a final bead of cum from Mason’s tip.
He held his hand in front of my mouth.
My eyes lifted, colliding with Mason’s darker ones as I stuck my tongue out. His stare dropped to my open mouth, watching me lapping his cum off Micah’s fingers.
“Fuck, Dakota,” he muttered, his eyelids heavy.
Micah pushed his first two fingers past my lips, encouraging me to suck. I did.
Mason had tucked his cock back into his pants, but he was gripping it again through the fabric, fingers wrapped around the rigid shape as he stared at my lips, transfixed. He smelled so ridiculously good. It overwhelmed me.
Both of them did.
Their kapnos was pouring off of them, drowning me in lust.
Lust—and love.
Love and fear and trust and want and hope.
Micah pulled his fingers from my mouth, then turned me, guiding me to sit backwards on Mason’s lap as he spread my thighs apart. He dipped his head between my legs, thumb skimming up and down over my swollen clit while he stared up at me through his eyelashes.
“Micah…” I whimpered softly, pathetically.
“Masters…” His voice was hoarse, his mouth descending hungrily towards the apex of my thighs.
Without delay, he licked the full length of my pussy over my underwear; his depraved mouth wholly pressed against me, his perfect face savagely buried, like an animal—like a predator.
My head rolled back against Mason’s bicep, a wave of shivers taking over my oversensitive body, broken moans escaping my lips. His mouth was hot, even through the cotton, his tongue pressing skillfully against the obscured shape of my pussy, soaking everything.
Insatiable. Merciless.
Mason’s hands lifted from my hips to massage my breasts over my loose t-shirt, pinching my aroused nipples and rolling them between his fingers. Despite the fact that neither of them were actually touching me bare, I could hardly control the orgasm already building low and fast in my core.
The fabric of my underwear was getting wetter and wetter, and I couldn’t tell anymore if it was from me or Micah’s wicked mouth.
I was so sensitive and he was groaning so much, eating me like he’d die if he stopped, like he needed to suffocate.
The underwear didn’t seem to be a deterrent in any capacity.
It was completely saturated, clinging obscenely to my pussy, tight and thin and adding the tiniest bit of friction that pushed me right to the edge.
Another lewd drag of his tongue, pure rolling pressure and repetitive moment…
I finally came with a loud cry, moaning in Mason’s arms.
“Let me see,” Micah ordered raggedly. “Show me.”
I reached down and hooked my fingers in the side of my underwear, pulling them to the side to show him my pussy after the orgasm he’d just given me.
It was filthy.
I could feel how swollen and flushed and wet everything must’ve looked to him, and I almost wanted him to fuck me anyways. Sink all the way inside of me, hold me open, claim my body for his own. Even though I was nervous.
But he simply looked his fill, then moved my hand, letting my soaked underwear move back into place. He sat on the couch next to me, very visibly hard, but he waved me off when I tried to do something about it.
As the high of my release slowly wore off, tiredness began needling at my consciousness.
Both men helped me into the shower, despite my insistence that I was perfectly capable of getting to the bathroom myself.
Then they both stood in the cramped room for the entirety of my shower, not speaking or moving or doing anything at all except stand there and take up every square inch of space.
Anything to avoid being alone together, apparently.
I peeked out from behind the curtain after I shut the water off, and Micah handed me a towel.
They both watched me change into pajamas and brush my hair, then finish getting ready. I kept bumping my elbows on their arms and chests, but nobody seemed interested in giving me any more room.
Finally, I made it back to my bed.
“I want to have Mila sleep over,” I murmured into my pillow, my hair in a damp braid down my back. I slipped my hand under my pillow to grab my phone and pretend to text her.
They clearly needed an opportunity to be around each other without me, and I was content to provide that. The tension was fucking suffocating me. Whatever shit they had yet to resolve between themselves was smothering the air. I didn’t care if they didn’t want this opportunity—they were getting it.
Also, I didn’t want to try choosing between them tonight. Didn’t want to deal with the anguish that came with keeping them both. So, I’d have neither.
Mila worked as an excuse.
Maybe I would actually text her—though it was late already.
“Are you sure?” Micah asked.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Please go. Both of you.”