Page 20 of Bruised

“Really?” I want to hear him promise that he won’t tell—that he’ll keep this all a secret—but before I have time to word it right in my head, he bucks up against me again, and I feel the wetness of his precum seep into my boxers.

Fuck, he’s as turned on as I am. His dick is so hard, rubbing up against mine, so big and warm, giving me the first taste of relief I’ve had in weeks.

“Now get yourself off, puppy,” he says. “I know you want to. This is what you’ve been aching for, isn’t it?”

I have been aching for it. Fuck, I haven’t even been able to sleep; I’ve been so hard for so long. It’s been hurting so much. Not just my dick, but my whole body. There’s a hollow ache in my gut that needs to be filled.

“Just don’t… don’t touch inside my clothes.”

Mason smirks. “I won’t. You can touch me, though.”

I’m just doing this to be able to sleep. It doesn’t mean anything. And Oliver won’t know.

With that permission from both Mason and myself, I start grinding on him, slowly at first, building up a tantalizing pressure with my straining cock—trapped in the fabric of my boxers—rubbing against his. Soon enough, my movements turn desperate, and I gasp as my cock twitches and spills another drop of precum into my boxers.

How can I already be so close? I haven’t been able to come in weeks, and not for a lack of trying. But this… this feels easy. Almost too easy.

I fall forward, palms on Mason’s naked chest. His hands guide my hips back and forth, helping me grind and rub and moan and whimper.

“That’s it, puppy,” he murmurs. “This is exactly what you’ve wanted. You just want to feel good.”

I do… I want to feel good.

“Go ahead. Take what you need.”

With that last bit of encouragement, I grind down on him hard, so hard I feel like I’ll hurt him. Little whimpers slip out between my gritted teeth, even though I try my best to be silent.

Then, when I’m so fucking close, he brings a hand down between us and swipes a finger over the head of his cock.

“Want a taste?” he asks, lifting his finger to my mouth.

Before I know it, I’m parting my lips, inviting that finger inside. The salty, musky taste of his precum makes me moan, and knowing where it came from, the depravity of it… Fuck, I’m so, so close, I⁠—

I come with a muffled cry. Being silent proves impossible with the wave of pleasure exploding from my groin and making a mess in my boxers. I slump on top of Mason, a boneless, sticky mess. After I’ve caught my breath, I sit upright, eyes still closed. I’m floating on clouds.

“Mm, look at you.” Mason rubs at the shameful wet patch at the front of my boxers. “All soaked for me.”

I whine in protest as the reality of what I just did sinks in.

I snuck into Mason’s room and humped his groin like a dog.

This is literally the opposite of what I was supposed to do. Oliver will be mad if he finds out—more than mad. He might kick me out. He might end our friendship. And for what?

Mason smirks up at me. Still hard, his cock gives a little pulse underneath me, but he doesn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry.

Unlike me.

I climb off him with a jerk, like a spooked animal.

Mason stays where he is, eyes locked on me. He looks calm, satisfied, as if he already got what he wanted, even though he didn’t even come.

I back off and turn around, back toward Oliver’s room. When I get there, he’s still snoring, and I sink onto the mattress, not knowing what to think or what to do, painfully aware of the sticky mess in my boxers and the memory of Mason’s body hot and hard against mine.

8. SAFE

The next morning, I can barely look Oliver in the eye.

What I did last night with his brother even though I promised not to… It makes me want to run as far away as I can, tail between my legs like the traitor I am. I promised him I wouldn’t do anything. I told him I didn’t even like Mason.