“I always knew you were a little slut for Mase,” Aiden teases over his shoulder.
“Are you surprised? Col’s wanted my ass for years,” Mason scoffs. “Are you ready, or did you want to blow your load before I cut you?”
“Fucking do it,” Colson mumbles through the leather strap.
Mason hesitates, then his eyes dart to Aiden and me as we exchange menacing glances. Slowly, he begins rocking back and forth over Colson’s lap again. Colson’s arms tense and he lets out a lungful of air while Aiden and I watch his eyes roll back. His fists clench beneath my arms and he starts to struggle against us. But after a few seconds, he lets out a moan, punctuated with unintelligible sounds.
I watch as the bizarre role reversal plays out, where Mason’s embracing the sadistic streak usually reserved for Colson. And maybe that’s what Colson’s looking for right now; an excuse to be something different at a time when all of us need a distraction from the horrors of reality.
“Look at him,” Mason chuckles as he rolls his hips, riding him harder. In an instant, his smile flips to a snarl as he smacks Colson across the face again, eliciting a string of garbled grunts. “You like being my bottom right now?” Mason asks, his words dripping with contempt.
But the humiliation only seems to excite Colson. He clenches the belt in his jaw, glaring up at Mason, and then starts nodding.
Holding the knife out at his side with one hand, Mason slowly nods back. “Thought so,” he sneers before giving Colson a condescending pat on the cheek.
He reaches down into Colson’s lap and a moment later, Colson’s chest caves and his jaw drops. My eyes dart around his side to Mason’s hand, gripping Colson’s dick through his black joggers. With a smirk, he starts moving his hand in slow strokes, his upper lip twitching with malice.
Aiden and I just look at each other, pressing our mouths together as we try not to descend into fits of laughter. What else do you do when one man’s ritualistic display of flagellation turns into another’s vengeful fever dream in a matter of seconds?
Mason releases him and holds his hand up to Aiden.
“Spit,” he commands.
A fire ignites behind Aiden’s eyes as he starts shifting his jaw back and forth and sucking his cheeks in and out. Seconds later, he leans over and spits a mouthful of saliva into Mason’s palm.
Mason glances at the pool and then at Colson. “More,” he grins, looking absolutely unholy. “He’s a big boy.”
Aiden complies with a chuckle and unloads another mouthful of spit into Mason’s hand. Once he decides it’s enough, Mason places the handle of the knife between his teeth, freeing up both hands. Then, without a word, he reaches down and jerks the waistband of Colson’s pants open, grabbing his dick and rubbing Aiden’s spit all over him. Colson shudders at his touch, but then relaxes, arching his back as Mason takes the knife and positions the blade across Colson’s ribs.
“Don’t bitch out now, Col,” Mason warns right before pressing the blade into his flesh and dragging it over his ribs.
Colson lets out a guttural howl around the belt as blood starts beading in the wake of the knife. He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes wild as Mason keeps stroking him while he bleeds. I look away, trying to ignore the carnal frenzy that’s making my dick twitch in a way I wish it wouldn’t. Then my mind starts wandering…wishing I was somewhere else…with someone else.
Mason starts pumping his fist faster, repositioning the blade just below the previous cut. He watches Colson intently, waiting…
Soon, Colson’s abs tense and his head falls back. He bites the belt and lets out a barrage of groans as Mason cuts deep, unleashing another ribbon of blood down his torso as he comes.
When his movements slow and his breathing evens out, Mason gives him one last rough pump and pushes off Colson’s chest, rising from his lap and dragging his wet hand across his pants. Aiden releases the belt and Colson lets out a cough before pitching forward and tumbling off the chair onto the marble floor.
He rolls his forehead back and forth across the cold slab. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Mason swaggers over to Colson’s body sprawled across the floor. “You’re welcome, asshole,” he sneers.
“I should fucking kill you,” Colson mumbles into the floor.
“I’m more worried about you simping after me now,” Mason retorts, giving Colson’s shoulder a shove with his heel.
Colson rolls onto his back, his arm flopping onto the marble with a smack. There’s blood smeared across his stomach and stamped on the white marble where he fell. He closes his eyes, inhaling one deep breath after another.
“I think you broke him,” Aiden snickers.
Colson opens his eyes and just stares at the ceiling with an intensity I’ve never seen before—and he’s fucking intense. Something’s happening in his head, and I don’t necessarily want to know what it is.
“I’m surprised he’s conscious,” Mason scoffs. “His dick's so big that he gets an erection and passes out when all the blood drains from the rest of his body.”
Colson rolls his head in our direction. “When I find the woman that I’m going to marry, this is how I’ll know if she’s the real deal.”
I shoot Aiden a side-eye, and he responds in kind, both of us knowing full well that his brain must still be starved for blood if Colson fucking Lutz is talking about marrying anyone. That being said, only Colson Lutz would decide whether a girl is worthy of marriage by whether or not she vibes with being stabbed while he’s actively making her come.