Page 52 of Not Another Dark Romance

I can’t forget that.

But for now, I should probably focus on making sure he has enough money to cover his bills. “Well, if you really want me to sell your art as you, I think we should probably talk about your social media presence.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “I very rarely posted pictures that I was in, so don’t worry about it seeming different.”

“Oh, I know. I meant we should talk about your account in general because it sucks.”

He spins to face me, looking offended. “Excuse me, I’ll have you know I’ve sold many pieces for respectable five-figure prices.”

“And that’s well deserved. Your art is amazing. I’m not commenting on that. I just think you could be making even more. You sell your paintings as your primary source of income, correct?” He nods. “So your art is your business. You need to treat it like one. Proper branding, consistent posting and engagement with your fans, build up the hype around an upcoming launch rather than spontaneously posting whenever something is available. I can set it all up for you now, or we can work on it together if you’d prefer, but you’ll need to keep up with it in the future if you want to reach your full potential.”

“I’ve never been good at that stuff.” He sighs. “But if you’re implying I’ll have to do it because you’ll be in jail or whatever, this is just another reason for me to not turn you in. I never want to see those apps again.”

He does seem to really hate marketing himself, but… “Let’s prepare for the worst, just in case.”

“Whatever you say, Master.” He winks, and I have the strongest urge to close the distance between us to kiss him.

I know I said I wasn’t holding back with him anymore, but I was referring to acting out all the possessive desires I have when it comes to having sex with him. I’m not prepared for the tenderness I feel toward Mason, and I’m not sure if I should act on it. There’s a guilty knot in my gut as I once again remind myself of how we ended up here.

Why does the idea of kissing him make me feel so vulnerable when I was literally just inside of him?

I ignore my internal conflict and try to remember what we’d even been talking about. Selling his art. “Okay, I can start tonight. I need the passwords for all your socials.”

“P-i-e-t-six-nine-six-nine-exclamation point. For all of them. I can’t remember multiple passwords.”

“How original.”

I unlock my back door and glance at the latest comment on Mason’s most recent post—my post on his account—and smile. People were really excited when he announced he was planning to sell more art soon, and I’ve been teasing the work he’s done so far all week. The engagement on his account is way up, and I think we’re in a good position for him to break the previous highest amount he’d sold one painting for if the comments are any sort of indication for actual demand.

I silently ascend the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I can since it’s after midnight. I unlock the door to my room, and Pete immediately hops down from the bed, so I take him outside to do his business. I sneak back upstairs, and Pete heads straight to his dog bed in the corner now that Mason and I will both be in the bed.

I strip out of my clothes, grab what I need from my nightstand, and climb under the covers to join Mason. He’s sound asleep, snoring softly, and my dick is already starting to thicken as I think about what I’m planning. Earlier today when I left for work, I left one of the butt plugs I’d purchased that very first night with Mason on the bathroom counter with a dose of nighttime cold medicine and a note that read, “Get ready for me, Pet. Not sure if you’ll want the help sleeping, up to you. Sweet dreams.”

It’s been a few days since I fucked him, sticking to using his mouth instead, so I figured tonight would be the perfect time for another fantasy. The room is dark, but the moonlight is enough to confirm Mason is naked when I hold up the covers. He normally sleeps in my boxers, so I’m taking that as a good sign that he understood my plan.

I give my dick a few lazy strokes, but I’m already so hard, it doesn’t need any encouragement. I don’t want to spend too much time moving around and risk waking him, so I quickly open and put on the condom I’d grabbed before coating my shaft in lube. Mason is lying on his side facing away from me, and I position myself right behind him as though we’re spooning. The challenge of attempting to pull this off without waking him before I’m inside him is thrilling.

I grip the base of my dick with one hand, holding it in place just below his hole as I carefully grip the flared base of the plug with my other hand. I swiftly remove the plug and replace it with the head of my cock, slowly pushing inside of him. The warm, wet squeeze of his perfect, plump ass as I slowly force my way in has me biting back a moan. He must have been really tired today because the soft rhythmic snoring continues. Or he took the drowsy cold medicine. I didn’t check.

When I eventually bottom out inside of him, I stay like that for a moment, letting him adjust in his sleep to the slightly larger size of me compared to the plug as I breathe through it. I look over his shoulder and confirm his dick is getting hard now too, and I slowly pull almost all of the way out before pushing back in.

The feeling is fucking electric. Being buried inside him while he’s completely oblivious is a power trip like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Every slow withdrawal and push back in is a testament to my control. His body is mine to use, even in sleep. The soft snoring hasn’t changed, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It’s the soundtrack to my victory, to the proof that he’s completely surrendered to me, even subconsciously.

It’s such a fucked-up predatory thrill, and the sheer audacity of what I’m doing is making me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. Harder than when I’d fucked his face the first time or chased him through the house.

The fact Mason followed my instructions, and he was waiting naked and plugged in his sleep, is validation of not only my control over him, but of his desire for me. It’s a willing submission that’s continued even when his conscious mind is checked out. His body knows who owns it and who it’s made for.

My movements are slow, almost lazy. There’s no rush while I savor the reality of being inside him, of his warm, tight grip holding me while he sleeps. I wonder what he’s dreaming about. Me, I hope.

I push up on one elbow to lean over and give his dick a few strokes. I’ve still been a little reserved when it comes to getting him off because being with another man is still so new to me, but it feels safer to explore touching his dick now, knowing he’s sleeping.

The weight of him in my hand, noting how his cock grows harder with each stroke, it’s really fucking hot. I love seeing and feeling the proof of his attraction to me. He’s already leaking profusely onto the sheets. He’s so perfectly responsive. It’s like his body was made for me, tuned into my touch.

The thought sends a jolt of arousal through me, and I have to pause my hips for a second to keep from thrusting too hard. We’ve never done soft, and while I have a deeply fucked-up part of myself that he helped me uncover, I’m loving this for what it is. I lean in closer, pressing my chest to his back, and nuzzle my face into his freshly dyed pink hair. He was thrilled when I brought the dye home, and even though I’m the only one who will see it, he looks perfect.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Pet,” I quietly admit to his sleeping form. “You’re perfect, Little Psycho. Fucking perfect.”

His breathing changes, and it’s the first sign that his body is registering the intrusion, that the pleasure is starting to penetrate the fog of sleep. My heart pounds in my chest, a frantic, excited rhythm because this is the beginning of the end of his unconscious surrender.