4. Chapter 4 #5
“It's showtime.” I clap my hands together, rolling my hips as I get into character.
Sliding across his carpet in my socks, I feel giddy as I shake my shoulders uncoordinated.
I might not send him it straight away, but I definitely will be testing Cass with footage of me getting up to no good in his bed.
Maybe I'll post it when I need to give him a little push in the right direction–the direction is me, not fucking ignorant Grace.
Lifting the camera up, I make sure his bed is in the background and I use the bedside lamp to cast a warm glow against my flat stomach, creating shadows on my pecks.
I tilt my head to the side as I record, wiggling my hips, which is probably the only dance moves I have.
Flopping back onto his bed, I lift my arm to flex it against his pillows, gripping part of the headboard.
The mask looks threatening, but the way I arch my back is so fucking suggestive, I'd be surprised if he doesn't think about me like this right on top of his sheets, each time he gets into bed.
He has to. Moving my arm down the bed, I focus the camera on the action and try to show more of the checked sheets.
Cass needs to see I was here. Moving the camera lower, you can see the faint trail of hair that runs center down under the waistband of my underwear.
I arch my back again and just as Sabrina sings “Come right on me,” I sit up and stare menacing into the camera.
Well, the ghostface mask does, because it looks terrifying as I loom over my phone.
I'm gonna stop the music there and add text telling him to come ride on me.
If I follow the pattern of his reaction when I reached out and his messages earlier in the supermarket, he's going to be furious. It'll be fucking fantastic.
Hitting stop on the video and music, I throw the phone down and don't waste any more time. I've pushed my luck enough. I'll edit the thing and actually add the same audio when I plan to shake up his life.
Throwing my clothes back on, I trail my fingers again over the hoodie I left him and decide to do something even better.
Finding the bottle of spicy body spray I keep in my bag after the gym, I straighten up the pillows on his bed and spray all over them.
His covers too, for good measure. He's going to sleep with me in his lungs and hopefully it'll cling to his skin tomorrow.
Pulling the mask off, I smirk down at my work and nearly kick my feet with glee. I'm so fucking happy. Heading over to his drawers, I do nosy in the top set and pocket a silky pair of his underwear. Those will be very useful later.
Making sure to close them quietly, I check I have everything back in my bag, before I throw it over my shoulder and turn the lamp off. The room descends into darkness once more and it's like I was never here.
Walking down the stairs on the balls of my feet, when I get to the bottom I slowly look around the door of the living room, and Cass is still there.
I can hear his long sets of breathing just over the show playing, meaning he’s really in a deep sleep.
I can't resist the pull of his body, my feet on autopilot as something tugs me towards his sleeping figure.
It honest to god feels like an entity has its claws gripped inside me, drawing me in.
His thick, dark eyelashes rest on his cheeks and they look so soft.
Swallowing thickly, I’m standing so close to him that I resist the flutter in my hands, everything screaming at me to gently run my fingertips over his curls.
Fuck I have to stop. I tell myself it's the fear of him waking up, over the unknown of what the hell I'm doing here, that has me backing away and eventually exiting the house.
I go the way I came in, through the back garden doors and hope to maybe satan that his house-mate leaves them unlocked again.
Gripping my cock with the silky black fabric of Cass’s underwear, the sensation is depraved enough that I conjure his presence against my skin.
I'm panting hard, moving my hand up and down as I think of doing this in his room.
Fuck, I would have exploded within seconds if I was in his bed right now.
This is wrong, so so wrong, but the more I think of how tonight went, the more my spine tingles with want and need for release. He's not mine, I shouldn't be doing this.
He's not mine, yet.
Gasping for air that can't reach my lungs quick enough, I come into the underwear.
My entire body seizes up and I really do applaud my imagination, because I can almost feel his hand strangling my dick, instead of my own over the material.
Not stopping until I'm completely spent, once I start to soften I use the boxers to clean up the cum.
A shoddy job, but I throw them onto my bedroom floor and fall back against my pillow.
Even though I'm physically exhausted, my mind races with plans of finding out more about Cass. He'll probably have rugby tomorrow, which duh–I’ll be there. Eagerly watching from the shadows. Then I have errands to finally run. I want to grab something for Cass, something I know he’ll come to love after he potentially tries to track Yourghostboy down and kill me.