Page 104 of Mutual Obsession

It’s his job to know everything about my life, to help me do my job and to keep me safe, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to discuss my private life with him. We’re getting closer, but we’renot exactly friends yet. Though there’s something very likeable about the psycho, so I think we’ll get there one day.

He lifts his hand to his lips and mimes zipping his mouth closed, though he still has a maniacal smile on his face as he does it. As he pretends to throw away the key, I roll my eyes and turn back to Jesse.

At the mention of the people who are waiting for me at home, my blue balls have suddenly made their presence known again. If I rush home, I might be able to do something about them.

Jesse is about to ask me what his punishment is, but before he can get the words out, I slam the blade of my knife down on his other wrist, cutting off his left hand. As it falls to the floor with a clunk, blood spurting out of the stump, I drop the knife and turn to Luca, who is now on his feet.

“Make sure he doesn’t die. I have better places to be,” I tell Luca, making my way to the door, ignoring his psychotic laugh and Jesse’s screams.

“Fucking brilliant,” he sings, as he moves over to Jesse after grabbing some things to help stop the bleeding.

Just before I leave, I turn my head over my shoulders and address Jesse. I call his name until he stops screaming long enough to give me his attention.

“I want you to tell everyone that this is your punishment for stealing. You get sticky fingers with something that belongs to me, I will chop them off. But I also want you to make it clear, I was lenient.

“I could have killed you, but I didn’t. I’m giving you the chance to repay your debt, rather than hurting you further. Take this as a win, as it’s the closest you’ll get to one. And make sure that everyone who has ever doubted me knows that Jacob Santoro is not someone to be fucking messed with. Do I make myself clear?”

He nods his head. “Yes, Sir,” he sobs.

With a smile on my face, I slam the door behind me. As I head to the car, all I can think about is getting home to Miles and Indie. I’m not sure when they became the best part of the day, but they are.

I spent a long time dreading being alone with my thoughts, scared my darkness would consume me. And even though I’m going home to two people who I care about very much—hell, I probably love them both, but am too scared to admit it—I’m no longer terrified of being by myself.

They are the light in my darkness, even when they’re not with me. They give me hope for the future, and the strength to want to be the best version of myself.

I’m not sure I’ll ever think I’m good enough for Miles or Indie, but I’m sure as fuck going to spend my life trying to be. I’ve seen what my life is like without them in it, and I can’t go back there again. When I’m with them, I can finally breathe… I can finally live.

The drive home has me a little antsy and on edge. To say I’m looking forward to getting home to Indie and Miles would be an understatement. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I’ve reached the stage where I miss them during the day, and I look forward to going home to them.

I’ve lived alone for such a long time, and I thought that’s what I wanted. The alternative was to live under my father’s roof and follow his rules, so anything seemed like a better option.

In reality, being alone is probably one of my worst fears, and it’s the reason my addiction was able to spiral for so many years without anyone realising it had gotten that bad.

Initially, I worried I wouldn’t be able to share my space, but we didn’t even need an adjustment period. One day I lived alone, the next they were both there, and in some weird way, my life felt complete.

As I rush home to them now, I know they offer me far more than the partnership we’re currently building. They give me stability, which I greatly need.

I practically run into the house, eager to find them and see what they’ve been up to, only to stumble on them in the livingroom. They’re both completely naked, with Indie straddling Miles’ lap. He’s relaxed against the back of the sofa, his arms open wide across the backrest, as Indie sits on top of him.

Her back is straight, her long blonde hair is falling in waves over her tits, though you can still see her peaked nipples through the tresses, and she’s biting hard on her lower lip. Her cheeks are red, and her beautiful emerald eyes have this almost glazed look to them, making it difficult to tell what she’s feeling.

With her thighs spread wide, I can see Miles is balls deep inside Indie’s dripping pussy, her juices running down over him.

It’s one of the hottest sights I’ve ever seen, but what I can’t understand is why the hell neither of them are moving. If I were buried deep to the hilt inside Indie’s tight cunt, I wouldn’t be leaning back, having a relaxing moment. I’d be fucking her until she screams my name.

They both look up when they hear me enter, matching welcoming smiles on their faces. As a mixture of jealousy and frustration overtakes me, the words only meant for my head slip out.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you two have started without me again. I’m so fucking horny, and I’ve missed out on what looks to be another fun day.”

Indie starts to say something, but Miles quickly slaps her arse, causing her to let out a startled yelp. She falls silent straight after; her gaze dropping to the floor, though it’s clear her breathing has picked up.

Miles speaks up. “Indie is being punished. If you keep using that tone, I’d be happy to punish you next.”

My eyes grow wide with confusion. “Why is she being punished? Wait, how is this a punishment for her? It looks to me like you’re the one being punished.”

Miles lets out a chuckle, which causes Indie to groan as the vibration moves him just enough for her to feel it. “This isn’ta punishment for me…it’s foreplay. I can fuck her and finish anytime I want, whereas for Dee, this is torture. No matter how much her tight little pussy is telling her to move, begging for some friction to help ease the growing ache, she’s not allowed to.”

“Why?” I repeat.

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