Page 45 of A Smile Full of Lies
The air in the house stayed cool, but my skin burned. That sharp clash — chill against heat — made every nerve stand on end. My nipples pebbled hard under the thin fabric of my tank top.
I tapped the first pinned video on Nox Obscura’s profile. The mask stared out at me, blank and merciless, while his distorted voice rolled out low and sharp. My pulse jumped like it was chasing every clipped syllable, every dark promise wrapped in that menacing growl.
I peeled my panties off, tossed them aside, and slid two fingers between my thighs. My clit was already swollen, begging for it, and when I circled it, wet heat spread everywhere. The slick sound of it nearly drowned out Nox Obscura’s voice. Almost.
And of course I thought about Knox. How could I not? He was right across the hall, stretched out in his bed, completely unaware that I was here with my hand between my legs, getting off with my face buried in his hoodie, inhaling his scent like a fucking junkie. I couldn’t believe I was doing this in his fucking house, with him sleeping just across the hall from me. My stomach twisted, heat shooting through me at the thought of him catching me like this, seeing what a needy little mess I’d turned into. Too bad I’d locked the guest room door.
But then there was StrayDog777. God, what the fuck was wrong with me? I’d practically handed him my fantasies the first night we ever spoke. We’d discussed in detail how I wanted to be chased, wanted to be caught. And then tonight, I’d flat-out asked him if I should use another man’s videos to get myself off. Who even does that?
What if he’s hard right now? What if reading that made his cock throb, made him stroke it while he pictured my hand sliding down my stomach, circling my clit, my fingers pushing inside my throbbing pussy?
The thought made me wetter. My hips pushed up into my own touch, greedy, my clit throbbing under my fingertips as I worked myself faster. I pushed two fingers in, gasped at how tight I clenched around them, then dragged them back out to rub my clit again, harder this time.
I played another of Nox Obscura’s clips, his deep, distorted voice crawling straight into my bloodstream, fueling every filthy thought. Knox’s shadow, Nox Obscura’s mask, StrayDog’s anonymous hands… all three tangled together in my head until I couldn’t separate them.
When my orgasm hit, it ripped through me like a live wire. My back arched off the mattress, thighs trembling as my clit spasmed under my fingers. Wetness coated my hand, my stomach tightening with every pulse of release. I bit down hard on my lip to choke back the moan clawing its way up my throat, my body jerking helplessly as I rode it out.
I kept rubbing until the aftershocks wrung me raw, grinding against my palm, phone tilting in my other hand. When the tremors finally ebbed, I lay there flushed and ruined, staring into Nox Obscura’s mask on my phone screen like it had been watching me fall apart the whole time. My thumb hovered, breath still ragged, before I gave in. Sighing, I double-tapped the screen, watched the heart bloom red, and hitfollow. Just once. Just enough to brand myself as one more faceless follower in his swarm of fans.
The rush of it soured almost instantly. What the hell was I doing? I’d just gotten myself off to videos of some stranger in a mask. Worse, I’d confessed it in real time to another stranger in my DMs. And Knox… God, Knox was right across the hall, sleeping like nothing had changed, while I was in his guest room soaking his sheets over a man I didn’t even know.
Shame and heat tangled until I couldn’t breathe. My skin prickled like the eyes behind that mask were actually trained on me, watching and judging me for what I’d just done.
Was StrayDog777 kicked back in a computer chair or sprawled out on a bed somewhere, picturing me right now with my legs spread, fingers glistening, coming apart to another man’s voice? Was he hard, stroking himself, grinning at the mess he’d coaxed me into with a few well-placed lines of text?
I groaned and yanked the blankets back and crawled under them, phone clutched to my chest like I could smother the evidence. But the like and the follow were already out there. Somewhere out there, Nox Obscura would get a notification of a new like and follow, and even if I unliked the video and unfollowed him, those notifications wouldn’t be erased.
Fuck. What did I just do?
Chapter
Twelve
KNOX
The cursor blinkedon her last message, still open on our DMs in the confessional forum.
GraveyardGirl93
Okay. Question. Is it crossing a line if I get myself off to @NoxObscura’s videos? Because I want to. Bad. But I feel like that makes me some kind of creep.
She’d sent it to StrayDog777, not knowing I was the one on the other end.
I leaned closer to the monitors, jaw tight, hand sliding down to my zipper. Bone conduction headphones pressed against my temples, feeding me every sound from the laptop mic across the hall. I’d muted the hidden bookshelf camera’s feed… too much distance, too much room echo. But the laptop? It was right there on the bed beside her, close enough to catch every shaky breath, every faint moan, every rustle of sheets. I could hear her like she was in my lap, and still catch the ambient creak of floorboards or doors if I needed to.
My cock was already throbbing, the need a live wire under my skin. I dragged the zipper down, freeing myself into the cool air, the relief sharp enough to make me hiss. She’d asked permission from me to get herself off and she didn’t even know it.
God, that made my need so much worse… made it unbearable.
“Come on, baby,” I muttered under my breath, voice low enough no one would ever hear but me. “Do it. That’s it. Show me.”
My left monitor played the close-up video of her face from her laptop camera: flushed, her pretty blue-green eyes glued to her phone, devouring one of my Nox Obscura videos. On the right monitor, I could see the wide shot from the bookshelf: her body taut with hesitation, every muscle telegraphing want. That thin tank top and boy short underwear combo was fucking killing me.
I wrapped my hand around my cock and stroked once, slow, almost punishing. Waiting. Holding. Daring her to make the choice. Because the second she touched herself to me — to the mask, to the voice, to the faceless stranger — I’d know she was already mine.
Her hand hovered just above the waistband of her boy shorts, trembling like she was fighting herself. The audio feed caught the stutter in her breath, that sharp little gasp she bit back like she was ashamed of it.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the monitors. On the left, her face filled the screen — lashes lowered, lips parted, teeth worrying her bottom lip raw. On the right, the wide angle showed everything else: her whole body stretched out on top of the comforter, nothing left to the imagination. I could see the dark shadow of her straining nipples through that godforsaken tank top, and those damn boy shorts… I prayed she’d take them off.The arch of her spine as she shifted was pure art. I drank in the restless drag of her thighs against the comforter, the way she clenched and uncurled her toes like every inch of her wanted it.
