Page 19 of Bruised

“About… us.” Fuck, that sounds weird. I just want him to stop flirting with me. I just want him to stop tempting me so I can stay out of trouble and focus on enjoying my last few weeks with Oliver.

“Sure,” Mason says casually. “Want to take a seat while you talk?”

He flips the covers off himself, revealing his body. His very much naked body. His toned pecs, visible abs, and the V leading down to… to…

If ever there was a time I should leave, it would be now. So why are my feet fixed to the floor? My face turns piping hot while I try to make sense of it all. Take a seat. He can’t mean⁠—

“You can keep your clothes on,” he says, but it doesn’t sound very reassuring. “Go on.” He nods downward, toward his naked crotch and his cock lying slumped over his thigh. It’s just as big as I suspected based on the bulge in his sweatpants—if not bigger, and I can’t stop looking at it.

“You look so lonely up there.” His voice is pitying, as if he’s worried about my well-being, but his mouth is stretched into his usual smirk.

“You don’t even know what I want to talk about yet.” It’s a miracle I manage to keep my voice somewhat steady through the thundering beat of my heart. My feet are glued to the floor, and my eyes are glued to his cock. Even soft, it’s massive. Intimidating, just like the rest of him.

“Then tell me.” He folds his arms behind his head. The motion exposes his hairy armpits and his bulging chest muscles.

“T-Tell you what?” I squeak.

His smirk widens, and he nods down at his body again. “You’ll think clearer with some blood back in your brain. Come sit right here.”

At first, I don’t quite understand what he means. But then I realize he must have noticed the bulge in my boxers. A lot of my blood has rushed to my dick, that’s for sure. Maybe he’s right—maybe I’d think clearer if I got some relief. It wouldn’t be like… having sex with him. I’d just sit in his lap. His naked lap. I’d be wearing clothes, though. Our skin wouldn’t even touch. Yeah. Maybe that’s okay.

Before my rational mind has given my body the go-ahead, I’m swinging my leg over Mason’s hips and crawling into his lap.

On top of him. On his naked cock. It’s still flaccid, but as soon as his crotch touches mine, I feel it swell, nudging up against my own.

“There you go,” Mason says. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He tugs at my shirt, as if he’s about to lift it over my head.

“Don’t.” No skin-to-skin contact. Clothes on. Those are the rules if I’m going to do this at all—which I shouldn’t, but I guess it’s too late now. I just can’t let it get out of hand.

“Just on the outside, then?” Mason asks, and when I nod, he shifts his hands to my hips, gripping them gently.

I half expect him to start pushing me back and forth, forcing me to grind on him, but he doesn’t—he just rubs little circles on my hipbones with his thumbs. This is okay. I’m wearing underwear, so he’s not touching me—not really. It doesn’t count. Though I’m sure it would feel nice if he’d…

No. No skin-to-skin contact. That would take it a step too far.

“Now,” Mason says, voice low. “What did you want to say?”

“S-Say…?” I’ve forgotten how to speak. All I feel is the pressure radiating from my groin and the places he’s touching me, my whole body zeroed in on the pleasurable friction of my crotch rubbing up against something hard and warm and unyielding. Without thinking, I rock back and forth a bit, testing how much weight I can drop on him.

His face isn’t showing any signs of pleasure, but no pain either. He’s hard underneath me, but he’s just gazing at me with that knowing look in his eyes, nodding encouragingly.

“That’s it, puppy. Feels nice, huh?”

I nod before I even realize what I’m doing. Yeah, it feels… so good. I’m about to explode just from rubbing myself on his crotch. That surge of tension startles me, and I sit up straight, remembering why I’m here in the first place.

“I’m just here to talk.”

“So talk.” Mason seems unaffected by all of this, as if he doesn’t even notice that he’s hard and that I’m crushing his dick and balls underneath me.

The first press of his hips upward makes my eyes roll back in my head. Fuck, that… that pressure on my groin… to feel the length of his dick pressed up against me… Without thinking, I rock forward, and the sensation is almost too much. Too good. Too dangerous.

“We can’t… We can’t do this,” I gasp.

“We already are,” Mason says in a low voice.

“But Oliver… Oliver can’t know.”

“He won’t,” Mason says, and he sounds so calm, so serious, that I almost believe him.