Page 48 of Watched

“A picnic,” Indie suggests.

“It’s a nice day, we’re on half term break, and you have the day off,” Kilah adds. “No, Mum or Dad ruining it. Just us.”

We’d have picnics a lot as kids in the backyard under the willow tree. The twins usually invited their dolls along, but I enjoyed it. This may just be the temporary distraction I need to get my mind off Rain.

“Okay,” I agree. “Give me an hour, and I’ll be ready.”

Indie lightly slaps my chest, and Kilah taps my cheek twice before they disappear again.

Taking my phone off charge, I turn it on. Eight new messages from none other than Rain fucking Weston.

I click on the texts. Why? I don’t know. I’m supposed to be ignoring the bastard.

Unknown: Don’t hang up on me.

Unknown: I’ll be back soon. Your ass is my first order of business.

Unknown: I still want those dick pics, and a video too.

Unknown: Here’s mine.

My dick stands when I scroll down to see his veined, wet, hard cock in the photo. I scroll further to see his muscular body completely nude in a full-length mirror. A video is next in the same position, then another close up, his hand wrapped around it.

Heat floods my body as I stare at them, my dick starting to ache, begging to watch them. Thumb hovering over the video, I snatch my earbuds and put them in, locking my bedroom door.

Has this prick got some cyber technology bullshit that will alert him I’ve clicked on them to watch?

Fuck it.

I get back in bed, pull the blanket back up and spit in my hand, then slide it under the waistband of my sleep pants and boxers, already feeling the pre cum. The second I click on the first video, his heavy breathing flows into my ear. I tighten my grip as he takes his dick in his hand and begins stroking.

I hate it. I hate that it’s large and perfectly proportionate to the rest of his body, though, I’m bigger. The bastard would probably love it too.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans.

My chest caves at the dark sound, which instinctively has me stroking harder.

His abs constrict, his large chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “I can just imagine your tasty fucking lips wrapped around this,” he groans deep and slow. My lips part. “You couldn’t resist, could you?” he taunts.

Prick.

His breaths deepen, as do my own as I pull off my pants completely, stroking harder and faster.

“Hard and slow, baby,” he instructs.

I, for some reason, follow the bastard’s orders, slowing my strokes and tightening my grip.

He moans, and I can’t help but stroke faster while flicking my gaze over his erotic face. Just when I feel the need to come, the video stops.

I growl, irritated, flicking to the next.

Sloshing echoes in my head as he slowly strokes up and down his length, teasing, taunting. “You don’t come until I tell you to,” he instructs.

Sweat coats my chest as I kick off the blanket, following his rhythm. His hand rolls around the crown. Without thought, I follow the movement, my body arching off the mattress.

His moans grow louder, and I clamp my mouth shut.

“God, I can just imagine you now, all hot and fucking wet.”