Prologue #3
I barely manage to keep myself from screaming at the quiet, raspy voice behind me, but can’t stop from jumping like a dumbass and whirling around in horror.
He’s right behind me, and with the extra darkness around us from the covered moon, I can’t make out anything about him other than the outline of his powerful body.
I make a weird sound, a cross between a squeal and a gasp, as I take a few stumbling steps back. My foot gets caught on something, and I tumble backward, my arms windmilling comically as I desperately try to catch my balance.
I have no idea if I hit my pursuer, or if he grabs my arm as I flail in front of him, but I instinctively latch on to his sleeve when the material brushes against my fingers.
Still moving on instinct, I grab a handful of the front of his hoodie in my other hand and hold on for dear life as I fall backward, pulling him with me.
I land hard on the ground, and the breath rushes out of my lungs as he lands on top of me.
He must catch himself somehow since the impact of his body on mine isn’t anywhere near as hard as it should be, but I’m still dazed and breathless as we finally settle with him on top of me as I lie on my back on the hard ground.
“Gotcha,” he rasps again and shifts over me.
He’s probably just moving to get up, but something about the way his pelvis brushes against mine sends a jolt of arousal through me, and my dick instantly goes half hard against him.
Oh shit.
No. Not here. Not now.
This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten a boner at the wrong time, but it is the first time it’s happened when I’ve had another guy on top of me, and I want to sink into the hard forest floor and never resurface.
My pursuer pauses, his bulk warm and solid as he presses me into the ground, and I lie there in horror as my dick goes from half hard to fully erect and a weird flush moves through my chest.
We’re completely still for a few beats, and the woods get bright again as the cloud slides away from the moon. But instead of the light being comforting, it just makes everything so much worse as I stare up at my pursuer in horror.
I have no idea what’s going through his head, but mine is screaming at me that I’m about to get my ass kicked for popping wood while one of my frat brothers is on top of me.
The shadowy void under his hood makes it impossible to see who he is, and my only saving grace is that I’m almost positive he has no idea who I am, thanks to my mask and his bulk blocking out the moonlight and casting shadows over me.
I brace for some sort of crashout or for him to punch me or call me a derogatory name, but instead of freaking out, he presses down on me in a slow wave and drags his pelvis against mine.
The scrape of my pants and his bulk against my dick feels way too good, and I bite back a moan as a pulse of pleasure hits me right in the balls.
I’m so stunned that it takes me a moment to realize that there’s an answering hardness pressing into my hip. What the fuck?
Is he hard too?
“Now isn’t this an interesting development,” he says in a low voice. “Am I mistaken, or is someone enjoying having me on top of them?”
I want to point out that I’m not the only one who’s hard, but the words die on my lips when he rocks his body and scrapes his dick against mine.
A low chuckle escapes from the depths of his hood, and I gasp as he forces my legs apart with his knees and settles his hips between my spread thighs.
The solid weight of him, and his hardness digging into my inner thigh, are doing things to me they have no business doing, and it takes way more effort than it should to not press up into him to feel more.
Another of those low chuckles rumbles out from under his hood, and I lie there like a ragdoll as he slides his hands down my arms and pins my wrists to the ground.
He leans more heavily on my arms, his face hovering only inches from mine. “You’re not fighting me,”
“I…”
“You what?” he asks in that low, slightly raspy voice that does things to my insides.
I try to say something, but the only thing that comes out is a soft puff of air.
He chuckles again, the sound full of dark amusement, and my entire body throbs with need.
What the actual fuck is happening?
I’ve always known that I’m not completely straight, but I’ve never reacted to another guy like this.
Having sex dreams about my lab partner in tenth grade or getting tongue-tied at thirteen while talking to one of my older brothers’ friends because I thought he was handsome is one thing.
Popping wood and having to fight the urge to rub up against one of my frat brothers while we’re both wearing masks and are supposed to be hunting each other in the woods is a completely different story.
Nothing about what’s happening should be hot or turn me on, but it is, and I have no idea why.
“Fuck,” I say on a breath, my voice barely audible, as he rocks his hips and gently works his length against mine.
“What do you want?” he asks, leaning so close I can feel the heat coming off him, even through the layers of our clothes.
Something about his tone sends a rush of desire through me. It’s commanding and firm, but there’s an undertone of cocky arrogance that hits me right in the chest.
“Tell me,” he rumbles, and a strange sensation of calm settles over me.
I might not know who’s on top of me, but he has no idea who I am either, and he’s obviously into whatever the fuck is happening.
Why not lean into it and explore a side of myself that I’ve spent years ignoring? It’s not like I’ll ever get a chance like this again. And if neither of us knows who the other is, then it doesn’t really count, right?
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
I have no clue what I want, what I can even ask for. I just need more.
He rocks his hips again, then keeps rocking them in a steady rhythm. “Is this what you want?”
Pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt rushes through me, and I barely manage to bite back a cry as he switches to grinding down on me.
His laugh is soft and dark as he stops moving, and I can’t stop my grunt of protest when he lifts himself up so there’s a few inches of space between us.
“Or maybe.” He shifts my arms so he can pin both of my wrists with one hand. “You’d prefer this?” he asks in a husky voice as he reaches between us and closes his big hand around my length.
My cry is strained and desperate as he gives me a hard squeeze over my clothes, and I instinctively press up into his touch as my body screams for more.
“You’re so hard for me,” he says, and there’s something about his voice that makes me pause.
It’s still that same sexy rasp from before, but there’s an undertone of appreciation in it that I’m not expecting.
“Pick one, or I will.” He gives me a few more strokes, then abruptly releases my dick. “Or maybe I should make you get me off.”
The excitement that tightens my chest isn’t exactly unexpected considering everything else I’m learning about myself tonight, but it’s definitely unwelcome.
Why the fuck is the thought of a masked stranger forcing me to get him off making my dick so hard it actually hurts?
“What do you think of that?” he taunts softly. “Do you want me to sit on your chest and make you suck my dick? I bet you’d sound so fucking hot choking on it, feel so good as I fuck your throat.”
More arousal floods my system, and my mouth actually waters as I picture him doing exactly what he just threatened.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve never sucked a dick. I’ve thought about it, wondered about it, and watched other guys do it on the internet, but I’ve never even considered doing it to someone in real life.
Even though the thought of one of my frat brothers fucking my face out in the open like this, where anyone could see us, should freak me the fuck out, it doesn’t.
How the hell did I go from casually wondering what it would be like to give a guy head to practically drooling at the threat of getting skull fucked?
“Yeah, I thought so.” He pulls his hand off my dick and roughly grabs my wrist again.
I wiggle a bit, giving some token resistance, but he just grips me tighter.
“Too bad we don’t have the time or the cover to have some real fun,” he says in a breathy voice as he leans down so our cheeks brush, the slippery material of his mask sliding gently against mine.
“But that’s fine. I don’t need time, or cover, to get off. ”
My head is spinning as he starts frotting against me, dragging and circling his dick over mine as he pins me to the ground and uses me like I’m nothing more than a sex toy.
It’s fucked up, but there’s something about being used like this that’s making every brush of his dick against mine that much more incredible.
Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have to be in charge of anything and can just lie here while he does all the work that’s so freeing.
I don’t have to think or fight to stay present; I can just feel and exist.
Or maybe it’s that he’s a guy and this is my first time experimenting with my bi-curiosity that’s overwhelming me, and it has nothing to do with his big body or bossy tone or his unrelenting confidence as he plays me like a fiddle.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his breath hitching as he speeds his hips up. “You like feeling me on top of you, don’t you?”
I don’t answer, but he can probably tell by my sharp intake of breath and the way I tilt my hips to press up into him that he’s right.
“You know what I’d do if I didn’t give a fuck about getting caught?” he asks, his lips so close to my ear I can feel the heat from his breath through our masks.
I let out a sound that could mean anything as my body tightens.
I never thought I’d be into dirty talk. I can’t even watch it in porn or movies without getting secondhand embarrassment, but I’m definitely into everything that’s coming out of his mouth right now.