Chapter 5 Niko
Niko
Username: Dragonfly
I scroll through the newest comments on my last video.
There are a lot of terrible comments, but some people are my biggest cheerleaders.
Hercules2210: How the fuck do your videos just get better and better?
I don’t know who Hercules is, but his comments always make me smile.
Even when I feel like I have nothing else to live for.
Every time I watch my cock disappear between Ollie’s lips, he lavishes his tongue along my underside so perfectly that I swear he’s trying to worship me.
For the first time all night, I feel unburdened.
I’ve forgotten anything else.
Blissfully in the dark.
His tongue is like a fucking method of hypnosis, and I swear I feel more intoxicated now than I was even when I got slipped that ecstasy.
He’s good.
He’s really fucking good.
I can’t remember the last time someone sucked my dick with so much eager attention, taking his time to lap his tongue on every inch of me whenever I pull back from his throat.
It’s good when I cut off his air. Good when I let him breathe again, and then feel his lips tighten around me again for more.
Good when he moans for it, and when I feel him swallow around me.
He looks up at me almost like he’s asking for permission, an innocent act even though he’s clearly a complete slut for this just like I am.
I know he despises me.
That makes it better.
I’ve been close to coming a few times already, and every time I see Oliver’s pretty lashes blink as he glances over at the camera, it pushes me closer to the edge.
“Tell me something,” I utter, my words punctuated by heavy breaths. “It gets you off to be filmed, doesn’t it?”
He moans around me as a response.
People who don’t regularly film videos of themselves coming would probably think I’m insane for enjoying it, but Oliver seems to be realizing something that I knew a long time ago. Doing depraved things on camera is a type of pleasure you can’t get anywhere else.
“God, you’re lucky I’m the kind of person who keeps my word,” I tell him, my voice a low growl. “My followers would kill to see me take your throat like this. Never posted a video with anyone else before, but you could be the first. I look better in your mouth than in my own hand.”
I’m not going to post it.
But I like screwing with his mind when I know he can’t talk back.
Oliver’s wrong about everything regarding that last hockey game, of course.
I never liked him. I just craved him. I recognized when he got hotter, when he had his ugly-duckling glow-up in our final year of high school and he became very physically attractive.
Not that he was ever “ugly” to begin with. Just gangly and shy.
And now you’re hot, infuriating, and a fucking demon who would do anything to have my cock.
The thought alone makes me smile.
I glance over at the camera, seeing how flushed his cheeks look. When I look back down at him it’s like a short-circuit hits my brain.
He hollows his cheeks around me as he sucks, and when he swirls his tongue along the underside of my tip, a rush of sensation floods lower in my body.
“You’re going to make me come,” I tell him.
I meant it as a command.
But it came out more like a realization.
It pisses me off how much control he has over me right now. I reach back with my free hand again and give his neglected hard-on another squeeze.
The moan he makes when I touch him makes me shake.
I can’t hold on much longer.
I move my hand to cup his throat, feeling every little micro-movement of his muscles as I thrust into him.
Sensation starts to build at the base of my cock.
My body is flooding with heat, and I forget everything around me. Forget I’m holding the phone camera. Forget about our history, and how much we hate each other, and anything that isn’t his tight, wet mouth.
“Take my cum, baby.”
The final word slips out even though Oliver doesn’t come fucking close to deserving being called that.
I exhale as I thrust in deep, my thighs tensing so hard they practically shake.
And on the next thrust, I completely lose control.
I look into his eyes as I come, surrounded by the tight heat of his mouth.
“Fuck, Oliver,” I utter as I let go, coming onto his tongue. His eyelids drop as I shoot into his mouth, and he doesn’t stop, tightening around my cock.
Perfect.
Holy God, that is what I need.
He swallows around me, dutiful, like he’s been desperate for my release the whole time.
Part of me didn’t believe Noah when he’d made the comments about Oliver being a “fuck machine,” but I understand now. He’s made to take a cock.
If that’s how good his mouth was… I can’t even begin to fathom how it would feel to fuck his ass, bending him over the desk and making him spread for me.
I breathe deep.
I try to clear my mind.
“Thank you,” Oliver whispers as he pulls back and lets go of my cock, his voice a little roughened now.
Thanking me, now?
If I hadn’t just come, I’d be throbbing at that.
He really is a proud slut.
I vaguely remember I’m still filming and I pull in a deep breath, reaching over to stop the video.
“Glad you did what I told you,” I say, like it’s as basic as talking about the weather.
He licks his lips. “Taking a good dick doesn’t mean I’m your puppet. You’re mine now, though.”
I lean backward, pressing my palm to his bulge before he continues. “The fuck do you mean by that?”
I feel his cock throb like it’s been doing for me all night.
His gaze flickers downward, staring at my chest, then looking up toward my arm, looking over some of the tattoos on my arm.
“You know why. You’re going to be my boyfriend.”
I drag my fingertips over his nipple again, just because it’s there and I like it.
He swats my hand away, but I enjoy seeing him get goosebumps again. I look up at the ceiling a moment later, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
“You’re lucky I needed someone to face-fuck tonight. Do you read my comments? See how many people wish they could have this cock?”
“I see the comments people post on your Camboy site and on your public profile,” he tells me. “The creepy random guys, but also your ex.”
I frown at him. “Exactly how much do you know about my life, Ollie? Sounds like you’re one of my most devoted stalkers.”
“Calm down. Deflate your ego for two fucking seconds, will you?”
“You look cute when you’re pissed off,” I tell him.
“I’m not one of your stalkers. You’re the one who puts your personal shit online. Anyone who follows you could see that you stopped posting pictures with your ex, then started sharing videos about new beginnings and other shit like that.”
“Never knew you’d be following me still. I’m flattered.”
He gives me a death glare. “I’ve also seen enough of the comments your ex has been leaving to know that he’s trying to mess with your head.”
I pull in a slow breath. “That’s putting it lightly.”
Callum could hurt me.
Still might.
Oliver shifts on the bed, giving me a pointed look.
“So do you think this will work? If you publicly come out as being in a relationship, maybe he’ll slow his roll and realize you’re over him?”
“Or maybe it’ll make him and the stalkers jealous, and even crazier.”
He rolls his eyes. “Listen. You want a fresh start. I want to finally have a boyfriend. Win-win.”
“What do you mean finally? I’m sure you could have had a boyfriend anytime you wanted, fuck machine.”
His expression goes cold. “You’d be surprised.”
I frown at him.
“Maybe I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend,” I tease him.
“Then have fun getting kicked out of Crimson College. I’ll send the administration my favorite video of you covered in your own cum.”
Something twists inside me when I hear his plain attempt at blackmail.
He has no idea about how deep those words cut.
Because I cannot go back to where I was before I came to Crimson. Callum’s house was pure mental warfare, and I haven’t even begun to process the trauma from how I was treated.
How I let myself be treated.
My ex’s biggest lie was that he was going to help me toward a career in modeling.
Real modeling, not just the artsy photos I toss out onto Instagram.
Callum is 29 and he found me when I was 18, promising me all sorts of modeling jobs that never worked out.
I moved in with him the moment I finished high school, and I didn’t even consider going to college.
Callum also started slowly pilfering money from me.
I thought he was rich, and he certainly lives the life of a man who has money. But he slowly started complaining that his money was “tied up in investments.”
He’s ask me for a grand here, three grand there.
Over time I ended up giving him almost thirty thousand dollars, and he hasn’t attempted to pay back a dime of it.
“Get me kicked from Crimson, and I really will make your life hell,” I tell him in a serious tone.
“Why do you even want to be at Crimson so badly if you hate us?”
Because every other aspect of my life is a burning mess.
And I’m running away.
“Someone threatened my cousin,” I tell him, giving him a small slice of the truth. “My cousin Sevan is in Double Daggers, and his life is in danger. I need to be here to protect him.”
I grab my phone and show Oliver.
It’s an anonymous comment I got a few weeks ago that sent a chill down my spine.
Anonymous38374: You care about Sevan, don’t you? Shame he won’t be able to run, when I find him. Crimson College security needs to step up.
“Christ, Niko. You get comments like that?”
“I get creepy anonymous comments all the time. Stalkery ones. But no one has ever mentioned a family member before. The person knows about my cousin, and the fact that he goes to Crimson.”
“It has to be your ex, right?”
“I don’t know if the comment is from Callum or someone he knows. I have to be here at Crimson until I know what’s going on.”
“Why can’t your cousin in Daggers protect himself? You have to swoop in and be a hero?”
“He’s injured. Badly.”
“Oh,” Oliver says, his expression softening. “Is he the guy with two broken legs?”