Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MICAH
My phone was face down on the desk in my office, practically burning through the wood. I dragged an angry hand through my hair, gripping the strands hard as my cock throbbed in my pants. Anger stretched tight across my chest and heat coiled low in my abdomen.
Mason’s picture had been tormenting me for the last twenty minutes while I attempted to get any amount of work done.
As Blackpine neared the end of the semester, I had more shit to deal with, and I’d decided to stay on campus to avoid the distractions at my house so I could get some tasks wrapped up.
Evidently, my distractions had decided to follow me.
For what must’ve been the fiftieth time, I snatched my phone off the surface and went to my messages with Mason, that fucking picture filling my screen again. They were in my bed. Mason was fucking Dakota in my own goddamn bed.
I put my phone down, only to pick it back up a second later.
Zooming in on the picture, blood surging, I skimmed my palm over my groin.
I’d been resisting for too long, and was unable to focus on anything else now.
The sight of Mason’s dick shoved in Dakota’s pussy, available for me to stare at whenever I wanted, was doing things to my brain.
Very bad things.
I couldn’t see much of her face because her hair was messy and she was facedown on my bed, but I could see the side of her mouth, part of her closed eye. Those pink, kiss-swollen lips and those dark eyelashes.
In my bed.
I’d not responded since the image had come in, but I did now.
Me
Fuck you
It was only a handful of seconds before Mason’s response came in, exactly as I’d expected. He was nothing if not predictable.
Mason
How many times have you looked at that picture? Pervert
If he thought I was a pervert now…
I wouldn’t have replied to him at all if I didn’t have a plan for this interaction, but I did.
There was a purpose to this. A perverted one, yes, but a purpose nonetheless.
I’d given myself enough time to make up my mind on this, and I was losing my sanity the longer I stared at this picture without doing anything about it.
My thumb hovered over the screen for another minute before I typed out my next response.
Me
Send me a video of you eating her out
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Mason started typing.
He stopped. Started again, stopped again.
I gripped my phone harder, my entire body one continuous line of tension, my jaw clenched tight enough to ache. I wasn’t worried about him obeying me. I knew he would. But my patience was far from endless right now.
Mason
Send me the aftermath of whatever you’re about to do while you watch this
I tossed my phone back onto my desk, the device clattering loudly on the wood, and reclined in my chair. Would Mason tell Dakota the purpose of the video he was taking right now? Did she know he’d already sent me a picture of her? I honestly didn’t know.
He made her worse.
While I suspected her recent behavior was product of her need to make me give in to her and not a desire to hurt me, that didn’t make me enjoy it any more. She’d get what she wanted eventually—I couldn’t control that. But she didn’t need to piss me off to get it. She needed to be fucking patient.
How many weeks had she spent lying to my face? Fucking him behind my back?
I wasn’t sure if I was angrier about the fact that she’d done it at all or the fact that she thought she was getting away with it. She also didn’t seem to feel any desire to stop fucking him, despite me knowing about it now. But two could play that game.
It wasn’t long before my phone vibrated again.
The speed at which I sat up and snatched it off my desk was pathetic.
But I couldn’t stop myself, and there was no one around to see my desperation. I clicked on the video, then pressed play.
It started with Mason’s face mostly out of frame, only his shoulder and the side of his neck showing, but it was only a few seconds before he lowered himself on top of Dakota, mouth skimming along the curve of her bare breast.
I adjusted my hips on the seat, my cock somehow swelling even more in my slacks.
He dragged his tongue up over her nipple, swirling around the little pink tip, sucking it into his mouth, before moving across her chest to suck on her other nipple.
I palmed my erection, hardly able to breathe as I watched him licking and kissing, watched his saliva glistening on her skin when he moved his mouth off her tits.
My knees fell further apart, body slumped in my chair, hand gripping my bulge.
Mason showed Dakota’s pussy on the video, showed how wet and swollen and perfect she looked, then slid her thighs over his broad shoulders and lowered his mouth. His brown eyes flicked up to look at her face as he kissed her clit, lightly at first.
I fumbled with my belt, unzipping my fly and shoving my boxers down far enough to free my dick. I tugged my shirt up so I wouldn’t get it messy, abs flexing with my breath. Precum was already slick all over the tip of my cock and I swiped my thumb through it, shuddering at the sensation.
He licked long and slow up the length of her pussy, taking his time exploring every place she was soft and slick. I could envision the taste of her so perfectly, and it’d been so long since I’d had it.
I groaned low and I gripped my cock hard, my fist starting to move up and down, twisting at the crown.
Mason looked at the camera again briefly, then he dipped back further, lower, tongue skating over Dakota’s ass for just a second. She squirmed.
I wanted it. I wanted to fuck her there.
My hand pushed down into my boxers to grab my balls, squeezing a bit, tugging just enough to spur on the ache. I rolled them in my palm, breathing hard through my nose.
Mason and Dakota both listened to me.
I told them what to do.
I could make them do anything I wanted, and thinking about that, thinking about it in real life too, had me hard as fuck. I imagined both of them submitting to me, maybe kneeling together, kissing and touching each other while sucking my cock. Mason licking my cum off Dakota’s tits.
No.
I didn’t want Mason in the fantasy at all.
Just her.
He was the barrier to this whole thing.
I stared at the video like I was possessed, my hand moving faster along my stiff cock as I focused on the amateur porn made just for me.
Mason’s lips and chin were glistening with Dakota’s arousal as he swirled his tongue around her clit, dragging out his motions, toying with her, and I could hear her desperate moans coming from my phone speaker.
He moved lower to wedge his tongue inside her tight pussy, groaning at the taste, and I had to squeeze my cock hard to stop myself from coming right there.
He shifted his position, bringing a hand up under his chin so he could slide two fingers inside her. He pumped his fingers a few times, the slick noises driving me so close to the edge I had to focus on my breathing. And then he was sucking on her clit again, curling his fingers inside her cunt.
As hard as I tried, it was difficult not to notice the flex of his jaw, the darkness of his eyelashes, his messy hair, his brown eyes lifting to watch Dakota’s out-of-frame face. His glistening lips, his skilled tongue.
That self-satisfied expression on his sinful face.
The expression was one I’d become too acquainted with, since he often made it when he gave me oral—because he liked getting involuntary reactions out of me.
Especially when my cock was involved in the transgression.
He liked watching me give in to the flick of his hot tongue and the squeeze of his slick throat, liked watching me lose just a bit of my composure, then losing more and more of it until I was fucking his mouth in truth, all but lost to the distinctly-aroused instinct to thrust…
Shit.
My orgasm built and built, my chest heaving as I tugged on my cock.
Dakota’s moans increased in both pitch and volume.
She was getting closer, her noises slipping into my favorite breathy cadence—the one she got right before she came.
Mason was spurred on by her desperation, his tongue flicking over her swollen and exposed clit, over and over.
Dakota’s thighs were shaking on either side of his head, trembling, and she was really squirming now.
Only a few seconds later, I watched her come on Mason’s mouth.
Whining, panting, twisting, hips bucking and rolling and grinding on his face.
His perfect face.
The arrogant tilt of his mouth, the glint in his eyes, the satisfaction coloring his expression. He liked getting reactions out of her, too.
I jerked my dick harder, faster, head rolling back, eyes sliding shut.
Thighs tensed, hips twitching, jaw slack, I finally came, spurting cum all over my hand, all over my dick, on my taut stomach.
The video ended sometime in the middle of my orgasm, and I tossed my phone on the desk after I finished, reaching for the box of tissues to wipe up my cum. Any plans I’d had of staying here to get more work done had dissolved into thin air. I was going home.
I did not send Mason a picture of my cum-covered fist or my still-hard cock. He didn’t tell me what to do, and he knew that—no matter how I felt about his entitled expression, the one that expected an orgasm caused by his mouth.
After cleaning myself and straightening my clothes so I looked presentable enough to walk across campus, I left my office. There wasn’t another soul in the building as far as I could see, which I’d expected.
It was cold outside, my breath visible in the air while I made my way back to my car.
The drive back to my house didn’t take long.
I parked in the garage and headed inside.
“You know what we have to do,” Mason said as I walked into my kitchen, where he was sitting at the table in the dark. I stopped walking abruptly.
But I didn’t need him to clarify what he was talking about. He was talking about Aamon.