Page 43 of Bruised

It’s not just the sex anymore. We almost kissed last night. I suspect he’d deny it if I brought it up, but that glance at my lips as he leaned in was undeniable. He wanted it. I wanted it too. Kissing is another type of intimacy than sex, but they often go hand in hand, so would it be so bad if our lips met? I don’t know.

I brush my lower lip absentmindedly with a piece of candy. Flicking my tongue out, I lick away the sour sugar of the gummy before I pop it in my mouth. I wonder what he’d taste like. If he’d moan, or if he’d stay as stoic and in control as he tends to when we’re having sex. I kind of want to find out. Maybe in due time.

The rest of the day moves slowly. The summer heat is back, and that, paired with my restlessness, makes everything tedious, almost excruciating. As if that wasn’t enough, Oliver wants us to raid a dungeon before we go to sleep, and the clock is nearing four when we finally take our eyes off the screens.

I lie awake in the darkness, listening for signs that Oliver is falling asleep. It takes longer than usual. Finally, he’s snoring, and once I’ve waited for another few minutes to make sure he’s sleeping deeply enough, I’m off.

To the room at the end of the hallway. To Mason’s room. To find him lying in bed as usual, scrolling on his phone. When I step inside, he sets his phone aside and gets up to greet me—that is, if greeting means slowly approaching someone while wearing nothing but a thin chain around one’s neck and a smirk that rivals a shark’s.

“Almost thought you wouldn’t show up,” he says. “It’s pretty late, puppy.”

“Sorry.”

“Were you scared?” He runs a finger along the band of my choker. “Is that why?”

“No, um… Oliver kept us up.”

Mason lifts my shirt over my head, and his eyes light up at the sight of the marks he left on my skin last night. There’s a whole collage of them at this point, in various stages of healing. He runs a finger over them, one by one, and I shudder at his touch. He’s taking his sweet time, but he knows what I wanted by coming here. I’ve endured the slow stretch of one, two, then three fingers, and now I’m finally getting what I wanted all along.

Impatient, I reach for the hem of my boxers, but before I can push them down, Mason grabs hold of my hands and shifts them away.

He chuckles under his breath. “In a rush?”

“I want… I want it.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want, puppy.”

I pout. “You know.”

He smirks and palms the front of my boxers. My dick is already straining against the fabric. “Do I?”

My eyes slide shut, and I rock into his touch. “Please.” The word tumbles past my lips before I can stop it. Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so many hours—for days, ever since that first finger, first touch, that first fucking look—that I’m near bursting now that I’m finally getting it. As soon as I step foot in his room, it’s always like the flip of a switch, and I want nothing more than to have his hands on me, his fingers in me, his cock in me.

Mason pushes my boxers down to my knees and frees my dick, and in the next moment, his hand envelops my shaft. “Need some relief before we get started, hmm?”

I nod and moan brokenly as he pumps my cock just once. I feel the weight of his gaze, but I’m not opening my eyes. If I do, I might explode right here and now.

Another pump. Three, and a stroke from base to tip. I lean into his chest and dip my chin, catching a whiff of his armpit. He smells of fresh sweat—sharp, tangy, and masculine—and it all adds to the weight of my desire. It’s already so heavy… I’m already so close…

“It’s okay, puppy,” Mason whispers into my ear. “You can come. We both know you’ll happily come again.” His free hand reaches around to my backside, and I inhale a sharp breath as his finger finds my hole. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You’ll get fucked tonight no matter what, ’cause you’ve been such a good puppy, haven’t you?”

I have. I’ve been good. I’ve waited, I’ve obeyed his every command, and now I’ll finally get what I’ve wanted, what I deserve.

When his hand speeds up and his finger strokes my hole dry, I come with my nose buried in his armpit, moaning softly, feeling a long day’s worth of nervousness and frustration pour out of me in one big rush of pleasure.

Mason puts his arms around me, wrapping me in a warm, protective hug. I come slowly back to life, and when I pull back, I feel myself smiling.

“Feel better now, puppy?” Mason asks.

“Yeah.” I do feel better. I needed to come. I was so stuck in my head before, and this calmed me down.

Before I know it, I’m on the bed, on all fours, facing the wall. Mason is behind me with his feet on the floor, and he’s parting my cheeks with his fingers. I moan when I feel his hard cock poke my crease. I reach back and grab it, trying to lead it to the place I want it.

“Patience, puppy,” Mason says, amused. “Have to stretch you out first. This little ass of yours is so tight.” He licks his finger and brings it down between my cheeks, stroking my hole. “But you’ve gotten used to my fingers these past few nights, hmm? Think you can take my cock?”

I nod. “I can.”

“Will you be a good puppy and not make a sound?”