3. Three

Three

Cole

L ost little angelic lamb. That's what he looked like, wide-eyed and disheveled, pressed against a spiderweb of rope, with whips and chains dangling, scraping the ground, brushing against his bare skin.

He was delicious. And so, so scared as I took measured steps closer to him. Chasing him had been fun, too easy though, when I'd had the pleasure of watching over the shoulders of those who'd planned it. A few nights with a bottle of wine and a sketchpad, and it was all mapped out for whomever might come snooping.

Avery didn't often look at me with fear. Not when his friends forced him to be in the same room as me, civilized and polite in company. No, I got disdain, irritation… sometimes curiosity, or a stray spark he tried to hide. I wish I knew why. It was one of my biggest annoyances in life… but I manipulated it, had fun with it despite wishing those daggers would turn to mush.

This was… everything I wanted. His eyes were only for me, his entire being ached for me, to run from me, to step closer. It didn't matter. I saw it in the tension across his body, in the way his breathing hitched and how he swayed, reaching towards me. He wanted this. Me. A surge of victory, after all these years, poured through me.

"This isn't… we…" he tried to say, but he was having trouble catching up to the fact that this was perfect.

"Shh," I soothed him, enjoying knowing he couldn't tell who I was. I'd painted every inch of my face, and the shadows and the flashing lights in here, plus the heightened fear, I was safe from him figuring me out. Until I wanted him to, at least. And I didn't know if I ever would.

I wanted this. Him. Too much to allow a little issue like him maybe recognizing me stop it.

"Turn around," I demanded, my voice carrying over the music. In this corner of the maze, tucked away from the main fray, everything else disappeared. No music. No countdown. None of the cheesy Halloween decorations. "Let me see all of you."

"N-No." He shook his head. "Let me go. I'll meet you in the victory room."

"The victory room."

His bottom lip sunk into his mouth as he nodded again, steeling himself. That fucking bottom lip. Avery had fat lips, that was the only way to describe them. Almost too big for his face, plush and heavy, the kind of lips perfect around a hard, throbbing cock. I'd grown obsessed with his lips over the years, and ached to run my thumb along them. My tongue. Sometimes, it was all I thought about as I fell asleep. I wanted to cause chaos with those lips.

To tug at them, bite them and watch a bead of blood form, only to lick it away. Most of the time when he caught me staring at him, it was because I couldn't stop imagining all I could do to his mouth.

"You need to chase me there," he said, that lip falling from between his teeth, shiny with spit. "That's the prize you won. Chase me, find me, watch me dance for you."

"Mm," I grumbled. "But I want you here. I paid enough." I stepped closer.

He threw a hand up to protect himself, and I stopped just an inch from his palm. "No touching."

"No touching."

"Don't—Don't touch me." His voice wavered, his actions telling a different story. Despite his hand being up to stop me, his body language stayed open, his pupils blown and his chest heaving, and well, in those lacy panties …

A smile broke on my face. He was just so fucking irresistible. "But I think you want me to." I glanced down. "Your cock is clearly communicating all I need to know."

He squeaked and shot his hands to cover his hard on. The thin, lacy fabric of the jockstrap did nothing to hide how turned on this delicious chase had made him. And at some point he'd lost the frilly skirt he'd been wearing, leaving the blush of his erection to show through the holes in the lace. My cock strained for his, hidden in the shadows of my dark jeans.

"Stop," he murmured, voice so soft, but not preventing me from moving further into his space. I could feel his breath now, shallow and warm as it ghosted over my skin, warming the paint on my chin. He was a touch shorter than me, not much, but enough that I looked down on him.

Like a little rabbit, he stared up at me, eyes wide, mouth open, chest heaving.

"Please, stop," he said again, but his body welcomed me in, and he did nothing to push me away, until we were almost chest to chest. "You… we… shit. "

"Are there cameras in here, little rabbit?" I asked, not breaking my gaze with him. The contacts I wore made my pupils look larger, my eyes darker, and I didn't see even a glimmer of recognition. Lust drunk fool .

He shook his head. "Only at the beginning and end."

"Good," I replied, allowing myself the small pleasure of ghosting my fingers across his chin, so close to those fucking lips. God, I wanted to kiss them, nibble at them, eat them down with bites and licks and sucks. "I want you to stay very still."

I sank to my knees, welcoming the sharp sting as my bones hit the hard, cold floor. He squeaked in surprise and shivered above me, took in a sucking gasp of breath when my hands landed on his bare, shimmering ankles. He was perfect. So good. I glanced up at him to find him chewing the corner of his lip, his eyes wide as he watched me with questions glittering across his features. For a second, I focused on the sensation of his skin beneath mine, the boniness of his ankle, the artificial softness, like too much moisturizer. Touching him made me want to lose control.

But, without looking away from his face, I leaned forward, letting my nose graze along the print of his hard dick through his panties. Sucking in a deep breath, I welcomed his musky scent in. Fuck, I'd wanted to learn what he smelled like for so damn long, ached to press my face into the most private corners of his body and drown in his scent. It was delicious. Sweet, almost, his sweat salty and masculine despite his outward appearance, covered with a spray of flowery perfume. I loved it all, buried my nose deeper and groaned with no restraint, nuzzling into the sliver of skin where thigh met crotch and surrounded myself with him.

He gripped the rope behind him for support as his cock twitched against my head, making me laugh.

"Needy boy," I chastised, laying a wet kiss against the scratchy lace, smiling to myself at how hard he'd grown, how hot his cock was, how desperately it wanted to bust free of the fabric and tunnel into my throat. I kissed it again, then stuck my tongue out flat, running up and down, soaking his panties while he whimpered and shook above me. I'd never touched a cock other than my own before, but it didn't matter. It wasn't his genitalia that had me wild, it was him. He could be a ken doll down here, and I'd still want to bury myself against him.

He gasped when I didn't stop nuzzling and mouthing him. "Please." And I pressed in just a little more, teased for another second, before moving my hands from his ankles, over his knees, his thighs, and to his hips, smearing the glitter shit he'd rubbed all over himself, before curling my fingers over the top of the lace and peeling it down so his cock sprung free. I salivated. Finally. Finally . Fuck, I'd wanted to see this sight for so damn long, to have his gorgeous, thick, and musky shaft inches from my face. Willing and waiting for my touch. Down here, in the dark, it was easy to pretend he craved me as much as I did him.

Unable to wait, I leaned forward and licked a long line from root to tip, groaning as my shaft thickened further in response, desperate for some friction too. I was so gone for this fucker and he didn't even know who I was under this face paint. His cock tasted about how I expected it to, like soap and skin and the faintest hint of sweat.

"Oh, my god…" he muttered to himself, almost just a sigh of surrender, with a full body shiver.

I swirled my tongue on the head of his cock, licking up the droplets of pre-cum gathered there for me. "Hold on tight to the rope, don't let go," I demanded, then not waiting for his response, I dove down, swallowing his shaft up, letting my lips tighten as I reached the base, my nose burying in his trimmed bush. His thighs shook, his knees quivered, and I sucked harder, moving back up until I was only suckling the head again, teasing and playful even when he vibrated with need. I'd had enough blow jobs in my life to understand what makes a good one, and being on the giving end? Fuck, it made me feel powerful. Making Ave melt was a fucking dream.

"You're so good, so good," I praised him, jerking his cock as I looked up at him. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I thought it was all over. He'd see me, know me, hate me. "Taste fucking delicious. My amazing Av—Angel. Such an angel for me."

"I don't—" he started, but faltered and thrust his hips instead, letting his spit slick cock slide through the tunnel of my fingers.

My stomach tightened as I watched him, his cock head appearing and disappearing as he used me. Fuck, I wanted him to use me, take from me. "You're amazing," I muttered. "I want to destroy you and put you back together again."

Avery's eyes squeezed shut and his toes curled. "What are you doing to me?" he asked on a breathy moan, his breathing picking up like he was about to come.

I yanked his ball sack without warning, and he yelped. "You can't come yet. I'm not ready for this to be over."

He gasped, "I wasn't—"

"Don't lie," I chided, holding all the power despite being on my knees. "We're not wasting a drop. I want your balls heavy with cum before you spurt it down my throat, beautiful angel."

The noises coming from him didn't make sense, just a garble of pleading and moaning as I ducked my head and rested my teeth on his ball sack, held tight in my grip. "We going to get these heavy and aching?"

"Please," he cried .

"I want it all." I bit down, just a little. "Will you save it for me?"

"Every drop."

My grin grew wide, but I tucked it away and kissed each of his balls before straightening back up to taste his cock again. He was giving in, truly, and it was all I could ever ask for.

An alarm sounded somewhere in the vast room, making us both jolt from our fever dream, and the lights flickered in a different pattern.

"Shit," Avery said, gasping and trying to move away. I didn't let him, though, squeezing his dick and holding him steady. I shook my head when he widened his eyes. "You've got to let me go."

"Never," I replied without thinking, furious this might be all over.

"Get up," he urged, reaching down to tug at my arms, shoving his hands under my armpits to try to hoist me up. All that sinking, it was all undone.

I leaned in and bit on his cock head. Not enough to hurt. Just a warning. He yelped.

Avery grew more desperate. "No, you don't understand. We can't be caught. I'd… I might lose my job…"

I rolled my eyes. He was Zelda's favorite person outside of her son, Leo, and my dad. Avery could shit on the stage and do a fucking Irish jig through it, and he'd still keep his job. Probably get a raise and cheer from the owners. But I relented, releasing him and standing, crowding into him so we were nose to nose.

His wet cock pressed against the fabric of my jeans.

"You'll owe me now," I growled. "I didn't get to eat your cum." I ran my nose along his jaw. "I want to eat your cum."

He shuddered and released a fluttery sigh. "Uh, oh, okay… s-sure. Just… come on."

I loved him flustered. He only ever gave me cold, so having him hot and bothered was a dream come true.

And when he took my hand, guiding me through the maze with practiced ease, my heart squeezed just a little. I was fucked.