Page 31 of Watched

I twist my head to him, only to be met with his face a centimetre from mine. My stomach flips, and I snap my head back forward. His thumb strokes mine, the simple action coating my skin in a nervous sweat. Closing my eyes, I draw a deep breath and blow it out, which would normally calm my heart, but the habit seems to fall short around Rain.

After another five minutes, my hand is a puddle, although the beads of sweat don’t seem to deter him at all. Ripping it from his, I slide it back out and dry it on his jacket. I’m sure the psycho will enjoy the fact I’ve put my sweat on something he owns.

My stomach knots, and I choke on my next breath when his fingers caress the inside of my thigh.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks and I want to say yes, but I don’t. “Rome,” he presses in a soft voice. I shake my head. “Is that no you don’t want me to stop, or no don’t touch me?”

“Don’t stop,” I breathe out like a fool. The hairs on my neck stand when he starts slowly rubbing the aching bulge over my pants.

“Liar,” he whispers.

His large hand stays rhythmic, the music amplifying the heat simmering in my veins. I slide my hand away to allow him more movement.

I shouldn’t, but it feels too goddamn good. Connor was light with his touch. Rain is ravenous and demanding. He’s rubbing, squeezing the crown and massaging my balls, all in the same movement.

My chest aches from being forced to control my heavy breathing as I slide down a little and spread my legs farther apart.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises against my ear.

I shoot my hand out to strangle the left armrest, and my eyes hood as I glance past him to Kilah, who’s intently watching Indie on stage. Soft cotton glides beneath my hand stretching over his thigh beneath the jacket.

A triumphant grin spreads across his face.

I push my head back against the seat, unable to control my lips parting and brows dropping when I continue to harden beneath his hand. No longer focusing on the performance, I stare at his bewildered expression.

“I—I-,” I choke on the words and clamp my mouth shut, too afraid a moan will slip free.

“You?” He arches a brow with a playful smirk.

I rest my sweaty forehead against his and whisper, “I need to come.”

“There’s a handkerchief in my inside pocket. I want it back when you’re done.”

I release his thigh, frantically feeling for the pocket. Hitting a box of some kind, I locate the soft material and pull it out, undo my belt, un-tuck my shirt, and stuff it in my underwear.

“Shit,” I breathe out. The temporary parting of my lips allows a small whimper to break free.

His fingers dig into my jaw, mine grasping his thigh as the fiery wave crashes through me. My lids flutter shut, and hips roll against his hand as I fill his handkerchief with cum.

Chapter fifteen

RAIN

Ihave to admit, Indie Aston is a fucking good ballerina.

Rome shifts in his seat beside me, probably still with a little cum wetting him. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than Rome Aston’s face when he comes. He tried to get up to go to the restroom, but I threatened to make him cum all over his pants and the seat if he tried to leave. I enjoy knowing he’s sitting there feeling wet because of me.

I want more. I can’t get enough of him.

The music fades as the curtains draw closed, signalling intermission. Sticking my fingers in my mouth, I let out a loud whistle while the crowd claps.

“Christ,” Rome mutters, running a frustrated hand down his still-red face.

I know it’s risky to be here with him, but, fuck, I can’t not be here. I want Rome to understand I will support everything he does, as well as his sisters. His parents, on the other hand—I’ll make them feel like shit, for making him feel like shit. Now, I can understand others’ values and traditional stances. However, Rome is their child, and from what I’ve seen, they have made no attempt to understand him and his sexuality. While I don’t expect them to shout it to the world, not belittling him is a good start.

Any time his parents spoke a word in that restaurant, his entire demeanour deflated, like they threw the weight of the world on him and didn’t give a single fuck that it crushed him.

“Stay here,” Rome whispers.