Page 33 of Bruised

“Don’t be nice to him, okay?”

I decide it’s best to play innocent. “Why? It was just a favor.”

“He’ll start to expect shit from you.”

“Like what?”

Oliver frowns, and he presses the buttons on his controller with more aggression than usual.

I glance down at my lap. “I’m sorry.”

Oliver sighs. “It’s okay. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“Good. Now let’s smash this race.”

We’ve taken to playing racing games on the Xbox as a break between MMO grinding sessions. The living room couch is more comfortable than our gaming chairs, too—you can really sink down deep and enjoy snacks on the side.

During a bathroom break, I inspect my throat in the mirror. I got lucky—my choker hides the hickey Mason sucked into my skin. Any higher, and it would have shown. We’ll have to be more careful next time. He’ll have to be more careful.

I press the pad of my finger over the hickey, remembering the throb of pain and the heat of his mouth on my skin. Fuck, it felt so good when he… when he sucked my skin into his mouth like that and sunk his teeth into me. It felt intimate. Almost like a kiss.

I blush furiously and slide the choker back into place. He told me to keep it on tonight, and part of me wants to defy him just to show him I don’t have to follow his orders. To show him this doesn’t mean anything. But there can be pleasure in obedience. I experienced some of it last night. With his cock in my mouth and his hand in my hair, I felt… different. Like I was wanted. Needed. Cared for.

It felt good. Better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Fuck, that’s bad, isn’t it? I should stop this, or at least bring it back to clothes-on humping.

And yet… I tug on my choker, pulling it this way and that. I slide a hand around my throat, blushing at my reflection.

Fuck, I want his hand there. Mason’s. I want more of his marks on my body, but they need to be easy to hide. And I want… I want his finger.

“Tomorrow,” he said. I hope he keeps his promise.

When bedtime comes at around three in the morning, I remove my choker and my jeans and get into bed as usual. I make sure Oliver is snoring soundly before I get up and clip my choker back on.

There’s a heightened sense of dread-filled excitement as I sneak down the hallway this time.

How will Mason react to me keeping my choker on? Will he be pleased? A flush warms my neck as I pull on the silver ring at the front of my throat.

When I twist the door handle and step inside, Mason is lying naked on the bed as usual, and when I step inside, his gaze locks on me—also as usual—but when he spots my choker, he smirks and nods, looking quietly pleased. Pleased that I followed his orders. Pleased that I obeyed.

Why does his approval coincide with a heat swirling through my gut and a tightening of my crotch? Why does it feel so good to do what he wants?

My arousal turns to anxiety when he stands up, his heavy cock swinging between his legs. He walks up to me and hooks his finger through the ring at the front of my collar—um, I mean choker.

“Good puppy.” He trails his finger around the band and pulls softly at the back of it, making it dig into my Adam’s apple. I swallow thickly. “Now take your clothes off and lie down on your belly.”

Heart pounding, I pull off my shirt and boxers and lie on the bed, unsure whether he wants me on my hands and knees or⁠—

“Lie flat. Just like that.”

I lie prone, cock smushed into the mattress. A thrill goes through me as Mason straddles my thighs, and I gasp as the length of his cock settles between my ass cheeks, spurring me into a slight panic.

“I… Um⁠—”

“Don’t worry.” Mason leans back, knees locked around my thighs. “It’s not time for the real thing just yet.”

The real thing. I blush furiously, hiding my face in the mattress.