Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MICAH
I hated Mason for everything he’d done to me, for what he’d turned me into. My bitterness consumed more of my brain than I was willing to admit, tinting every thought darker, carving them sharper, until I could hardly think about him without my old obsession clawing painfully at my chest.
It was an infection. My ex was a deadly illness for which there existed no cure.
And now he was searing me again, like a fever, heating me up, boiling in my blood.
It was fucking dangerous.
His tongue flicked over the head of my cock and I could see him grabbing his own erection, breathing hard and slow like he was giving himself a second to feel the gravity of kneeling for me again. Knees on the ground, mouth open, cock hard. He was pure sin like this.
Maybe I needed a second to feel the familiar gravity too, but I didn’t want to slow down long enough to reconsider any of this. Considering things meant making conscious choices. The conscious choice to shove my cock into my ex’s throat.
But this was not a conscious choice. This was wrapped in my DNA. A decision made long ago.
Plus, hatred paired well with lust.
Mason took me all the way in the back of his throat, turning his head side to side to get me as deep as possible, his lips wrapped around the base of my dick, his throat slick and tight as ever.
I tilted my head back towards the ceiling, eyes sliding shut as my abdomen flexed, my chest heaving with my breath.
“Fuck,” I swore between my teeth. “Yeah. Suck me.”
He moved his hand with his mouth, giving me a tight channel to relentlessly fuck into, twisting his grip on the sensitive head of my dick in a fluid motion.
I adjusted my stance, trying to work out some of the tightness spanning my shoulders, but having Mason on his knees for me wasn’t something I could so easily ignore the ramifications of.
How many years had it been at this point?
A lot.
He sucked me hard, deepthroating me, like he wanted me to come fast, like he was trying to make me lose it. In any other circumstance, I would’ve fought for some of that power back, but not right now.
Not when my orgasm was bearing down on me, hot and hard and necessary and unavoidable. Insistently burning its way through my lust-flooded blood.
I held the back of Mason’s head, shoving his face against my hips, thrusting into the back of his throat hard enough to make him choke, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth.
His hand was still moving over his own cock in desperate strokes and squeezes, his fingers going lower to feel his balls while his palm pressed against his shaft.
I fucked his mouth deeper, rougher, pulling his hair at the root as I slid past his lips again and again, gliding over his hot tongue.
I was going to come. Just like this. My length shoved into his throat and my fingers knotted in his brown hair.
Every stroke and thrust wound me up tighter, tighter—
Orgasm tore through me in a wave of searing pleasure, my jaw falling open and my thighs tensing as I flooded his mouth with cum, my cock pulsing.
Mason sucked me through the end of it, then stood up and pressed his lips straight to mine, spitting my own cum back into my mouth. I grabbed his jaw and pushed him off me, both of us panting, staring at each other’s lips, kiss-swollen, shining with cum and spit.
“You’re a piece of shit,” I said.
“Don’t like your own cum as much as mine?”
I looked away from him, trying to keep myself from getting pissed and losing my grip on his intensity. There was a slight flare of panic in my brain at the thought of my control slipping, but it dissolved quickly enough. He wasn’t as bad as he used to be—at least not yet.
“Shut the fuck up.” I grabbed his shoulder and maneuvered him towards the door to my bedroom, then shoved him inside, slamming the door shut behind us.
He spun back to face me and we collided, the force of my forward movement tipping us backward onto my bed. I crawled over him, moving down his body as he adjusted on the mattress, head resting on the headboard.
His abdomen contracted with every harsh breath, his hard cock laying up on his muscular stomach, leaking precum everywhere.
I grabbed it, stroking him with my hand for a second before I lowered my mouth onto his swollen tip.
He groaned with the contact and I didn’t hesitate to suck him deep, my hand wrapping around his base.
Mason pulled in a sharp breath as I cupped his balls, rolling them in my palm.
The sound only succeeded in turning me on more.
I felt every year, every hour, every second of time I’d gone without him, and all that time had made my desperation into something completely wicked, something disgustingly sinful. A raw and aching and perverted thing. I had one mind, and it was entirely swathed in the need to swallow him.
His dick slid over my tongue, my throat squeezing the tip, my own breathing getting rougher through my nose. I pressed one finger back further, massaging the spot behind his balls.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips against the bed as I bobbed my head, inhaling the scent of him, feeling his thickness on my tongue. Even after he’d made me come earlier, my dick hadn’t softened a bit. It was almost torturous, in a way; this bottomless need.
Rolling my hips on the mattress, I pushed my hand up his chest, stopping for a moment to flick his nipple with my finger, then raised my head.
“Spit on it, Ash.” I held my index finger out in front of his mouth, my other hand still stroking him.
“I hate you.”
Mason spit on my finger and I lowered my hand back down, slicking up his hole with the saliva, watching him try not to buck his hips with the feeling of it.
Yeah, we switched. But both of us knew who was the default top.
Not him.
I sank my finger inside of him without further ceremony, feeling every place he was hot and tight, curling the digit just enough to make him start breathing heavier.
My tongue swirled around his tip before I sucked him again, taking him to the back of my throat until his entire erection was in my mouth and my nose was pressed to the flat plane of his abdomen, his kapnos so strong here that I felt high just smelling it.
His cock jerked in my mouth as I shoved my finger in deeper, putting more pressure on the inside of him, massaging his prostate. Mason’s hand slid down to hold the back of my head, fingers twisting in my hair as he forced me up and down his length, faster now.
He was grunting, swearing under his breath, thrusting his hips upward like he was getting close, like he couldn’t hide how bad he needed it.
I was about to come again just from the friction of the comforter on the underside of my dick. I kept rolling my hips, pressing down with my weight, my body tense. That rough pleasure, combined with the feeling of Mason—all of him…
He shoved my head back down all the way as he reached the edge, making my eyes water. I kept pushing my finger inside of him, wondering if he’d ever done this again after me. With himself, with someone else.
A low moan tore out of his mouth, his voice hoarse, fingers tightening in my hair.
“I’m gonna fucking come,” he gritted out.
His dick swelled and his stomach seized, hot cum pulsing out of him onto my tongue, his balls drawn up tight through his orgasm.
Just like him, I didn’t swallow.
Slowly, I lifted my head off his cock, letting his cum trickle out of my mouth all along his quivering abdomen as I made my way back up to his face.
“Micah,” he warned, clearly not happy with my payback.
His muscles tightened and flexed as I dripped cum over his sweat-slick skin before I rose up on my knees and spit the rest of it on my own dick, starting to stroke myself, sucking in air through my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Mason groaned, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Not wasting this cum,” I mumbled.
Neither of us had any recovery period, which was one of the reasons it was always so hard to stop with him. I leaned my body over his, watching him prop himself up on his elbows as I grabbed my erection, now lubed up with cum, angling it toward his.
“Fuck, Kill,” he muttered and laid back down, one hand behind his head and the other gliding down his torso, smearing his orgasm on his skin. His bicep flexed on the pillow, veins popping out, as I brushed the bare head of my cock against his own.
It was unnecessary. We already crossed all the lines we shouldn’t have crossed tonight. Already got each other off once. Doing it again would be excessive.
But…
Mason grabbed himself, rubbing us together more purposefully, aligning our lengths, his own cum acting as the lubricant between us.
At the same moment, we seemed to actually realize what we’d just done.
Shit.
I stopped moving, thoughts of Dakota flooding my brain.
Mason’s eyes were wide for an instant, then his brows furrowed in anger.
He didn’t waste time shoving me off him and stalking out of the bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind himself when he left. I collapsed backwards on my bed, the mattress cradling my body as I stared at the ceiling through the darkness.
What am I doing?