Page 71 of Phantom Faceoff
There’s a final gasp and choked out cry as his hole clenches down on my dick. Cum shoots between my fingers and splashes both of our stomachs.
I’m teetering on the edge of an orgasm; it’s ready to barrel out of me, and I’m just barely able to hold it off. Something is missing.
Malachi and I lock eyes, and just as my dick gives a warning twitch, Julian tugs me down and presses his lips to my ear.
“Daddy wants you,” he whispers breathlessly. “Let him have you. Show him you trust him.”
Pulling out of Julian almost sets me off with how tight and responsive he is, and he kisses the soft spot under my ear as I pull away. My cock is throbbing, aching as I slowly roll the condom off and ditch it in the trash.
The bed dips under my weight as I crawl across to where Malachi sits, lust brimming in his stare. He told me I can’t touch him, so I don’t, but I fit my knees around his thighs and sit back on my haunches.
He’s fucking me with his eyes, all of my nerves becoming electrified by the mere thought of what his hands could do to me.
I grasp my cock and stroke it nice and slow, making sure to milk the precum down my shaft.
“Tell me where to come,” I say, body already starting to convulse as the wave rises higher, nearing in tighter. “Daddy, please. I want to mark you.”
Malachi’s fingers dig into his own thighs, leaving irritated, red marks as he holds himself back from likely throwing me on the bed and fucking me senseless.
Those eyes drink in every inch of my body, and if he doesn’t make a choice now, I swear to god I’m going to shove my dick in his mouth and make him choke on it.
“Daddy,” I warn, losing the fight as my eyes screw shut.
Hands grip my hips and jolt me forward, my spurting cock rubbing up on Malachi’s abdomen and covering him in my release. Lips fall on my neck, sucking and teasing, and just as Ilet myself go, he pinches my skin between his teeth, and another wave of cum pours from my spent dick.
It stings, but he keeps going. Kissing and biting a trail along my neck and shoulder until my skin feels like pins and needles. When he lets me go, I fall boneless to my ass, then flat to my back. My head lands near Julian’s, who hasn’t so much as moved since being fucked.
He leans his head on mine, sighing contently and reaching for my hand. I give it, too tired to even open my eyes. Another set of hands rub up and down my thighs, but all that does is make the threat of sleep weigh down on me more.
Something cold touches my stomach, and when I swat it away, Malachi’s deep chuckle sounds in my ear.
“Settle down,” he says, voice low and husky.
I peek an eye open and catch him coaxing Julian to the head of the bed, and when he turns to me, my chest fills with something hot. It’s not arousal; my libido is thoroughly depleted.
Hold me,it says, and the warmth in Malachi’s eyes makes me think maybe he understands. Maybe he can read me—care for me—the way he does Julian.
“I’ve got you, Wildfire,” he says as my eyes close.
Arms circle around me. Something heavy settles on my chest. A couple of seconds later, the bed shifts and another pair of arms wrap around my shoulders.
We’re a tangle of limbs, but I’m not sure I can bring myself to care.
It doesn’t matter who’s holding who. Just that for now, we’ve got each other.
We’re safe.
Chapter Nineteen
Malachi
When I needto get out of my head, I go on the search for new indie bands to binge. It’s a rabbit hole that requires minimal brain power, and the music serves as an excellent distraction from the mess of feelings I’ve shoved down in the corner like laundry.
Tonight’s deep dive? BLU. An independent artist who travels the country in his recording studio/camping van. Every song is a location recording that incorporates the sounds of wherever he’s based at any point in time. There’s songs recorded to the patter of rain, echoing like it’s being played in a party bathroom.
I lose several days of socialization, and while the distance is making me feel human again—not obsessively lost inside of my growing feelings for Zander Hale—it completely slips my mind that I wasn’t the only person in that room. I’m not the only one having to deal with a whole onslaught of new emotions.
It’s a quarter to midnight, and I’m busy playing with random songs and matching them with ASMR thunder and jungle noises. It doesn’t make sense, but it scratches the brain itch.
