Page 18 of Stalked

Twenty-one years old and about to come in my bully's dad's hand. Way to go, Toby.

It hit him like a freight train—years of secret desires racing through his brain in a desperate stampede.Fuck, no, not yet. I want EVERYTHING. He wanted to be bent over, held down, filled up, used thoroughly. Wanted to taste, to feel, to surrender completely. Twenty-one years of careful restraint and calculated denial, and here he was about to blow his chance at all of it because Mason Blackwood's hand felt too damn good around his cock. The universe had a sick sense of humor sometimes.

"Not yet," Toby managed, slowing his movements on Mason's length. "I want—"

He realized what he wanted most at the exact same moment Mason growled it in his ear:

"On your knees," Mason commanded. "I want to feel that smart mouth around my cock."

Chapter eight

Toby

Beforehecouldoverthinkit, Toby turned in Mason's arms and dropped to his knees in the soft forest earth. He looked up, taking in the full sight of Mason for the first time.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Mason Blackwood was goddamn magnificent in the moonlight, like some pagan god of sex and violence. His shoulders were broad enough to block out the stars, chest dusted with that silver-streaked hair that narrowed down to where his cock—Jesus, that COCK—stood thick and proud against his stomach. His face was all sharp angles and shadows, that perfectly trimmed beard framing a jaw that could've been carved from granite.

But those eyes. Those fuckingeyes. They burned into Toby with a hunger that made his stomach drop like he'd just plummeted off a cliff. Mason wasn't just looking at him—he wasseeinghim. All of him. The parts Toby showed to the world and the parts he kept hidden even from himself.

He's beautiful, the thought blindsided Toby, punching through years of practiced denial. Not just hot or fuckable—beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you want to write terrible poetry and burn down cities.

Toby licked his lips, watching Mason's pupils expand like black holes.

"Well?" Toby said, aiming for defiant but hitting breathless instead. "Are you going to make me beg for it?"

Please don't make me beg, his mind raced frantically.I absolutely would, and we both know it, but let me keep at least one shred of my dignity intact.

Mason's hand tangled in Toby's hair, tugging just enough to make his scalp tingle. The sting lit up nerve endings Toby hadn't even known he possessed.

"No," Mason said, his voice a rumble that Toby could feel in his fuckingbones. "But I might make you choke on it."

Christ on a bicycle, Toby thought, heat flooding his face.Who actually SAYS shit like that? And why is my dick trying to explode about it?

A shiver raced down Toby's spine at the promise. His cock twitched, leaking like a broken faucet. He was way too horny to be embarrassed by how Mason's words were turning him into a quivering mess.

"Big talk," Toby said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Even on his knees, naked and desperate, his mouth was still writing checks his ass might not be able to cash. "Let's see if you can back it up."

Keep pushing, you idiot, Toby thought recklessly.See what happens when you poke the apex predator with a stick.

Something dangerous flashed in Mason's eyes at the challenge, and for a moment, Toby wondered if he'd pushed too far. But then Mason's lips curved in a predatory smile that made Toby's stomach do a full Olympic gymnastics routine.

"Open," Mason commanded, guiding the head of his cock to Toby's lips.

Toby hesitated for just a heartbeat—one last moment ofcan I really do this?—before the hungry, demanding look in Mason's eyes demolished his final defenses. He parted his lips, Mason's thumb gently pressing down on his bottom lip, and suddenly the moment transformed from theoretical to breathtakingly, irrevocably real.

Toby's lips wrapped around Mason's cock, the firm warmth filling his mouth. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his ears, every beat sending waves of nervous excitement through him.

I'm actually doing this. I'm actually sucking his cock.He'd never done this before, never had the courage to go beyond the anonymity of photos and videos. Now, here he was, on his knees in the dirt, Mason's hard cock pressing against his tongue.

The taste was unexpected: salty, musky, undeniably masculine. Nothing like he'd imagined during those nights alone with his fantasies. It was better. Realer. Toby's eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the sensation, the raw intimacy of it. Mason's hand rested on the back of his head—not forcing but present, a gentle reminder of who was in control.

Don't fuck this up, Toby thought, panic briefly cutting through the haze of arousal.Don't be bad at the one thing you've thought about for years.

He bobbed his head experimentally, feeling the ridges and veins of Mason's cock against his tongue. Each movement sent shivers through him, the reality of what he was doing hitting him with full force. This wasn't just anyone; this wasMason Blackwood—the intimidating, authoritative man who had captivated him from their first meeting.

"That's it," Mason murmured, his voice deeper, rougher than Toby had ever heard it. "Just like that."

---