Chapter 10
Sebastian’s fingers leave trails of heat on my skin. The sensation floods my brain, heightened by the darkness behind my blindfold. I shift in his lap, rocking down on his hardness, and he rewards me with a sharp intake of breath.
He kisses the curve of my neck. “Can I see what you’re wearing for me?”
“Of course,” I gasp. “It’s for you.”
His hands slide to the belt of my robe, tugging at the knot until it comes loose. The faux-silk parts, cool air kissing my skin, and Sebastian stills behind me.
“Green suits you,” he murmurs after a long pause, one finger tracing the lace edge along my thigh. “You bought this for tonight?”
“Yes.” The word comes out breathier than I intended. “Do you like it?”
His response comes in the form of his palm sliding up my inner thigh, stopping just short of where the lace hugs my growing arousal. “Very much.”
I squirm in his lap, seeking more contact.
His free hand grips my hip, holding me in place. “Patience.”
“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” I confess, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. “I’m used to getting straight to the main event.”
Sebastian chuckles, the sound intimate in my ear. “I’ve noticed.”
His fingers brush the front of my lace underwear, tracing the outline of my dick through the delicate fabric, and my back arches at the teasing pressure, pushing into his touch.
“Sebastian,” I gasp as he cups me, applying pressure without removing the barrier between us.
“Yes?” His thumb circles the head of my dick through the lace, spreading the dampness already gathering there.
Words desert me as he continues his torturous exploration, never giving me direct contact, and it’s somehow more intense for the lack. My hips buck upward, seeking more friction, but his grip on my waist tightens, controlling my movements.
“Tell me what you want,” Sebastian commands, dropping into that Alpha register that melts my insides.
“More,” I manage, reaching back to grip his thighs for support as waves of pleasure wash through my body.
Sebastian rewards my answer by increasing the pressure of his palm, establishing a rhythm that has me panting. The lace adds texture to his touch, catching on my sensitive skin with each stroke, and my fingers dig into his thighs as tension coils tighter in my body.
“You’re so beautiful,” Sebastian murmurs, his breath hot on my neck. “Responsive to every touch.”
His free hand slides up to my chest, fingertips tracing patterns across my skin before finding a nipple through the lace. He pinches lightly, and a shock of pleasure shoots straight to my groin, pulling a moan from my throat.
“Sebastian, please,” I beg, though I’m not sure what I’m asking for.
His lips caress my neck, then work their way up to my ear. “Stand up.”
The command confuses me until his hands move to help me rise on shaky legs.
Once I’m standing, he turns me around, his hands guiding my movements in the darkness of my blindfold. “Straddle my lap.”
I follow his guidance, knees settling on either side of his thighs as I lower myself, this time facing him. The position brings our groins into direct contact, and I gasp as he grinds our arousals together.
Sebastian’s hands slide under my open robe to grip my lace-covered ass, pulling me closer until our chests press together.
Without sight, every point of contact between us burns.
The soft texture of his sweater through the lace of my lingerie.
The heat of his breath on my face. The solid ridge of his cock, separated only by layers of fabric.
“Better?” he asks, voice strained as I grind on him.
“Much.” I loop my arms around his neck, fingers finding the short hair at his nape. The silky strands slip between my fingers as I lean forward to find his mouth with mine.
Our lips meet in a hungry clash, open and demanding from the start. His tongue twines around mine as his hands guide my hips into a rhythm that creates delicious friction between our bodies. Each rock forward grinds our hard lengths together, the sensation building with every movement.
I break the kiss on a gasp as Sebastian thrusts upward, meeting my downward grind. “Oh god.”
“Feel good?” he asks, rough with desire.
“Yes,” I moan, chasing the sensation. “So good.”
His hands tighten on my hips, controlling our pace as we rock together.
The chair creaks beneath us with each movement, adding to the symphony of our labored breathing and occasional moans.
The scent of our arousal mingles with our pheromones, filling the air with an intoxicating blend that floods my lungs with each desperate breath.
As the pleasure builds, I lean forward to bury my face in the crook of his neck. My lips part on desperate gasps, and my tongue traces his heated skin, slick with salty sweat and the faint trace of soap.
He rewards me with a groan that vibrate through his throat. “You feel so good.”
His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass, and slick leaks from my entrance as our movements grow more frantic. Tension coils at the base of my spine, heat building with each roll of my hips, the friction of lace on my sensitive flesh pushing me closer to the edge with every movement.
Sebastian senses how close I am, and one hand slides beneath the lace that hugs my ass to massage my slick entrance.
The added stimulation tears a broken cry from my throat as pleasure crests.
My body shudders as release crashes through me, wetness spreading through the lace of my underwear.
Sebastian’s hold on me tightens, and he thrusts upward one final time.
A deep groan rumbles through his chest as his body tenses beneath me, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release.
For several heartbeats, we remain frozen together, the only movement is our chests heaving as we struggle to catch our breath.
I collapse against his chest, forehead resting on his shoulder as aftershocks of pleasure ripple through my body. “That was…”
Sebastian chuckles to find me once again at a loss for words post orgasm. It must come as a surprise for him, since I’m usually so chatty on camera.
His hand slides up my back, pushing beneath my lacy top and leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Yes, it was.”
An incredulous laugh spills past my lips. “And we didn’t even take our clothes off.”
His chest shakes with answering laughter beneath my cheek. “Imagine what we could do with fewer layers between us.”
“I have been.” I pepper his neck with kisses, tasting the salt of exertion on his skin. “For months now.”
His arms tighten around me, holding me close as our breathing slows and our heartbeats return to normal. I nestle against him, content to remain in this position despite the growing discomfort of cooling wetness in my expensive new underwear.
“We should clean up,” Sebastian suggests after several minutes of peaceful silence, though he makes no move to release me.
“In a minute.” I tighten my arms around his neck, reluctant to break the moment. “Let me stay here a little longer.”
He kisses my temple, his lips lingering. In the darkness behind my blindfold, with his arms around me and his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I’m more connected than I’ve ever been with another person.
A sharp knock at the door shatters our bubble of intimacy, and beneath me, Sebastian’s muscles go rigid in an instant.
My head lifts, and I frown. “Who would be knocking at this hour?”
“You’re not expecting Saint, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, and he wouldn’t knock. He’d just use his key.”
Sebastian’s hands, gentle on my back moments ago, now grip my waist with sudden urgency as he lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet. “Stay here.”
The transition from lover to protector happens so fast that it leaves me disoriented. “What are you—”
“Stay. Here.” His tone brooks no argument, an Alpha command that straightens my spine on reflex.
His footsteps retreat across the apartment, leaving me standing in the kitchen, robe hanging open and body cooling in the aftermath of our shared pleasure.
The floorboards creak under Sebastian’s weight as he approaches the door, and for the first time, I hate how the blindfold renders me vulnerable in my own home. The lock clicks, the door opening, followed by Sebastian speaking to someone too low for me to catch the words.
A stranger responds, his response muffled.
The exchange lasts less than ten seconds before the door closes again, the deadbolt sliding back into place with a definitive thunk.
Sebastian’s footsteps return, accompanied by a rustling sound that puzzles me.
“Sebastian?” Feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with my state of undress, I pull my robe closed. “What was that about?”
“There was a delivery for you,” he replies in a neutral way that raises the hair on my arms.
“At this hour?” I tilt my head, straining to identify the rustling sound. “Who delivers packages this late at night?”
Sebastian doesn’t answer right away. The rustling grows louder as he handles whatever was delivered. My fingers tighten on the belt of my robe, cold fingers of unease creeping up my spine.
“Sebastian?” I prompt again.
“It’s a package addressed to Elliot,” he says from near the dining table, accompanied by more rustling. “No return address.”
My stomach clenches. After the underwear incident, any anonymous package fills me with dread. “What’s inside?”
“Do you want me to open it?”
I swallow, my mouth drying. “Yes, and tell me what’s inside.”
The sound of packing tape being removed fills the apartment, the harsh rip loud in the tense silence. Paper rustles, followed by a soft thud of a package placed on the table.
Then, complete silence.
The quiet stretches, becoming its own form of torture. No footsteps, not even the sound of breathing reaches me from where Sebastian stands.
“Sebastian?” Worry fills me. “What is it?”
The silence continues, broken only by fabric moving, like something being wrapped.
Fear bubbles up, replacing the warmth of our earlier intimacy. “Sebastian? You’re freaking me out.” My fingers reach for my blindfold. “I want to take this off.”
“No.” The sharp word freezes me in place, then more gently, he adds, “I don’t want you to see what’s inside.”
Cold fingers of dread wrap around my spine. Whatever’s in that package is bad enough that Sebastian wants to shield me from it. My imagination runs wild, conjuring images each worse than the last.
Movement resumes, footsteps crossing to the door, then the sound of it opening and closing again.
Did Sebastian leave me alone in the apartment? Before panic can take complete hold, the door opens once more, and his familiar footsteps approach.
Warm hands grasp my shoulders, pulling me into a protective embrace. I cling to him, clutching at his sweater.
His arms wrap around me, one hand cradling the back of my head to his chest. “Have you been getting any strange packages lately?”
My stomach drops at the question. How much should I tell him? How vulnerable do I want to be? But after everything we’ve shared, hiding the truth feels wrong.
“There was one,” I admit, the words muffled by his sweater. “The first night you bought me dinner during our private stream. It was sent to my PO Box.”
His arms tighten around me. “What was in it?”
I shudder within the circle of his arms. “A pair of used boxers with… with dried semen on them.”
Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath is the only indication of his disgust. He strokes my hair, the gesture soothing despite the tension radiating from his body.
“Did you report it?”
I shake my head. “What would I say? I’m a cam boy. The police would laugh at me or say I invited it.”
“Was that the only one?” He remains calm, but his heart races beneath my cheek.
“The most recent one. Saint always deals with the creeps, but this one got a little too close to home. Saint and I tracked down the guy who sent it. His name is Travis Thornhill. He worked at the shipping center that processes my packages. But he disappeared before we could confront him.”
Sebastian’s body grows more rigid. “This one came straight to your door.”
“Probably because I changed my PO Box.” Not sure I want the answer, I ask, “What was in it?”
Sebastian hesitates. “Photos. Of you. Taken through your apartment window.”
The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and my knees threaten to buckle. “Through my window? But I’m on the sixth floor.”
Sebastian’s arms tighten around me, supporting my weight. “They were taken with a telephoto lens. From the building across the street, based on the angle. The photos were… intimate. From your streams.”
Nausea churns my stomach. “How recent?”
“Recent enough. There was a note, too.” Sebastian’s hesitation tells me how bad it is before he continues. “It said ‘I see you when you don’t see me. Soon we’ll be together, my pretty Omega.’”
A violent shudder racks my body. The words echo in my head, each syllable dripping with threat. Someone has been watching me. In my home. In my private space. Not just in my streams, but during my everyday life.
“I put it in my car for now, and I’ll burn it once I’m home,” Sebastian continues. “But, Micah, this is serious. This person knows where you live.”
“Saint warned me.” The words sound far away to my own ears. “He said Travis disappearing meant he was planning something worse.”
Sebastian’s hands cup my face. “You’re sure it’s this Travis person sending these?”
I nod, then hesitate. “Almost sure. The timing fits. He had access to my real PO Box number through his job. He could have gotten my real address that way, too.”
Sebastian’s thumb strokes my cheek. “We need to call the police.”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “An Omega cam boy reporting harassment? They’ll tell me to find a different job. I can’t— I won’t let them strip my work away.”
“Then we handle this ourselves.” The steel in Sebastian’s voice should frighten me, but instead, it sends a wave of relief through my body. “I’ll sleep here tonight, and in the morning, we’ll cover your windows and set up better security.”
The fear eases. “Okay.”
He cups my face. “Do you want to call Saint to come over, too? Would you feel safer?”
I think of the fight we had, how he’d react to finding Sebastian in my apartment again, and shake my head. “I just need you to hold me tonight. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” He wraps me back into his arms. “Whatever you need.” Then his fingers touch the band of the blindfold. “And maybe we take this off.”
My breath catches. “Are you sure?”
He hesitates for only a heartbeat. “Yes. My insecurity isn’t worth your safety. And I really want to look into your eyes right now.”
I lift my face to his. “Then remove it. I won’t be scared off by your scars.”
His lips brush my forehead. “I hope you’re right.”
And before he can second-guess himself, he slips off my blindfold.