Page 62 of Veil of Obsession
I watch as his hand disappears beneath his sweatpants, his movements slow, deliberate. His breath comes out uneven as he strokes himself.
“Fuck, Princess,” he groans. “You love being a little pervert, don’t you? Watching me. Listening to my voice while you touch yourself.”
I press down harder, my fingers moving in slow, teasing circles. Pleasure builds low in my stomach, spreading outward, making my toes curl.
“You talk too much,” I whisper.
Lucio chuckles, dark and rough. “I’ll shut up if you tell me how it feels.”
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth, my head tipping back slightly as I push a finger inside myself. My walls clench around the intrusion, my body wound tight with need.
“So good,” I breath out. “Tight. Slick.”
Lucio groans, and I watch as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, teasing himself the way I know he’s teasing me.His jaw clenches, his chest rising and falling with every slow pull of his fist.
“Yeah?” His voice is strained, thick with arousal. “Wish it was me touching you instead?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I push another finger inside, curling them just right. “Yes.”
Lucio lets out a ragged breath, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. His cock is hard in his grip, his thumb teasing over the head where his piercing is, before his hand moves back down, stroking with long, slow pulls. I watch every movement through the screen, mesmerized, my own pace quickening as I chase my release.
“Say my name,” he orders.
I bite my lip, my fingers working faster, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. “Lucio?—”
His jaw flexes, his body going rigid for a second before his strokes become relentless.
He’s close. I can see it in the way his abs tense, the way his breathing turns shallow, broken.
“Come for me, Princess,” he demands, his voice thick with dominance.
The words are all I need. My body shatters, my back arching as pleasure crashes through me, stealing my breath. I clamp my hand over my mouth, muffling the soft whimpers slipping past my lips.
Lucio’s groan is guttural, deep and raw, as he comes. His strokes slow, his chest heaving. For a moment, neither of us say a word—there’s just the sound of our breathing, uneven and charged.
Then he lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re fucking dangerous.”
A lazy smirk tugs at my lips. “And yet you keep coming back for more.”
He exhales a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face. He looks wrecked: his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his shirt bunched up where he leaned back against the couch. I watch him through the camera, the way his jaw tenses as he regains his composure.
“When am I going to see you?” His voice is calmer now, but there’s something underneath it. Curiosity. Frustration.
I blink at the screen, caught off-guard. “What?”
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like he’s mulling over his next words. “You heard me, Princess. When are you going to stop hiding behind cameras and actually see me again?”
I press my lips together. “Who says I want to?”
Lucio chuckles, but it’s dry, humorless. “You wouldn’t be watching me every night if you didn’t.”
I stay silent, my fingers tracing patterns on my thigh, avoiding looking at my screen.
“Let me take you out,” he says suddenly, his voice firm, as if daring me to say no.
I close my eyes briefly. I should’ve seen this coming. He’s cocky enough to assume I’d say yes, that I’d want this to turn into something real.
I do want that, but I can’t.
