Stoeckel Hall is very different than Connecticut Hall. It is home to the School of Music, full of artists experiencing life through sound, rather than intellectuals experiencing life through words. Although the rooms are pretty well soundproofed, if you lean against the door of a practice room, you’re bound to hear something beautiful. At least I am. I feel bad for the people who happen to hear me playing.
I find an empty practice room at the end of the hall, where I am less likely to be discovered. Technically, these rooms are only for students in the School of Music. Luckily, I’ve only been caught a few times and only had the rule enforced on me once.
I drop my bag on the floor, slide onto the bench, and gently open the lid. My fingers fall onto the keys like familiar friends. Without any need for conscious thought they spread out, lifting in the right spots, pressing down in others, and the sweet, sad sound of an A-minor chord surrounds me.
My fingers scale up and down, somehow knowing which notes to land on to express the things I don’t have words for. I am off time, with several fumbles, but this simple act organizes my brain. I feel peace, like I am floating, my mind carried by the sound the way the body is carried by waves in the ocean.
E-major, D, G, B#. A-minor, C#, E. So this is what it is. This is what I’m feeling.
Behind me the door opens. I ignore it—it’s fairly common to be walked in on, but there’s an unspoken rule, understood by pretty much everyone in Stoeckel Hall, to automatically leave if you commit such an infraction. The door does indeed shut a moment later and I continue playing.
Then terrible invasive clapping interrupts me.
Startled, I instantly swivel around. Tristan Masters stands, his weight shifted so his left hip juts out, continuing to clap, slow and loud. Behind him, Julian stands, his eyes on the keys my fingers have just left.
“Did you follow me here?” I snap, startled not only by them, but by the instant pulsing throb between my thighs—it’s like my heart has just dropped into my panties.
Tristan and Julian both give me slightly confused stares. “Obviously,” Tristan answers.
“What do you want?” I sigh.
“Turns out we have a problem,” Tristan says, actually examining his fingernails as he speaks. “See, unfortunately, I’m in that video too, so it’s useless as blackmail. I’m going to need you to fuck Julian again, only this time, I’ll stay off camera.”
I turn fully around on the bench now and look at him. He says it so nonchalantly, like fucking people on command is just an ordinary part of life. It’s so ridiculous that a burst of laughter bubbles up inside of me. I try to suppress it but it is so powerful that a giant snort accidentally bursts out of my face.
After a few deep breaths, during which they just stand watching me, I say, “I’m not going to fuck people just because you want me to. Once was a mistake, but I learned from it and I’m not doing it again.”
“A mistake?” Julian says, his face dropping just a bit.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean…It’s not that it was unpleasant. It was, it was very pleasant actually, it’s just…it’s just that I can’t…I’m not really…”
“That kind of girl?” he supplies.
“No. I mean, yeah. I’m not. I mean, I’ve only ever had one boyfriend and—”
“Blah blah blah,” Tristan cuts me off, “that’s nice and all, but I’m going to need proper blackmail, so get over it and take off your knickers.”
“You are such an asshat.” I glare at him, wishing I’d come up with something cleverer. Unfortunately, being jerked out of one’s private world is a bit discombobulating, and discombobulated is a state that rather interferes with clever.
“I am,” he smirks, apparently taking my words as a compliment, “and I can’t have my extracurricular activities coming to light, so, being that I am indeed an asshat—I don’t care. Take off your knickers.”
“No,” I say, which is hard because my body is already flooding with memories of all the sensations that came the last time I took my panties off in the same room as these two. The heat between my legs grows, I can hardly resist squirming to relieve the tension. Fuck.
Julian drops his messenger bag and walks past Tristan. He stops right in front of me and falls to his knees. I can smell his aftershave. I curl my fingers around the edge of the piano bench, like it might be able to hold me back.
“Mia,” he says, “I’m pretty sure you liked everything that happened the other day. I don’t really care about Tristan’s blackmail business, but I would like to kiss you again. Very much so.”
I look into his warm copper eyes, full of lustful promises. My eyes accidentally dart to his lips and then my own part in unconscious anticipation—after all, I know what it feels like to kiss those lips.
“Is this like a thing you guys do for fun?” I ask, willing to follow any line of thought that might help me avoid the temptation of his lips. “Figure out how to coerce people into threesomes?”
“No,” Julian replies, sounding a little shocked, “it really isn’t. I mean we’ve shared a partner before, but it’s not a regular thing.”
“Oh,” I reply, suddenly overtaken by a bizarre feeling of deflation. I don’t know why. I have no reason to care whether or not they’ve had other threesomes. I guess it’s just because I haven’t, I assumed…I guess I’m even more boring than I thought.
Julian leans toward me. His hand lands lightly on my cheek and pushes gently back so his fingers weave into the hair at my temples. It is a wonderful feeling and I have to really fight the instinct to turn my head into his hand the way a common house cat would. I watch his beautiful thick black eyelashes float downward as his eyes leave mine and shift to other parts of my anatomy. His lips are inches from mine—
I stand up. My defiance is declared by the screech of the piano bench pushing backward. Julian reaches up to grab my hips before I can slide out around him.
“Mia,” he says quietly, his voice raspy and low. “I want to make you come again and again, until you beg me to stop.”
I make the mistake of looking back into his eyes. The way he’s looking at me… Behind the playful mischief, there are much deeper and darker things going on, more things I don’t have words for.
He reaches under my sweater and digs his fingers under my jeans. Despite what my brain tells them to do, my hands don’t reach out to stop him. “Can you honestly tell me that your body doesn’t want to feel that as much as mine does?”
No, I think. The throbbing is growing stronger. All he’s done is touch my hips and look at me, and already my body is growing antsy and wet with anticipation. Fuck.
“Just you?” I sigh as my brain and body go to war over whether or not to unbutton my jeans.
“If that’s what you want,” he answers, inching his fingers farther down the edges of my hips.
“Mmhmp,” the tiniest of whimpers escapes me. Julian seems to take this as consent because he slips my button free.
I take a deep breath in anticipation, but then his hands abandon me in favor of unzipping his jacket. He takes it off and lays it behind him, then he reaches up, grabs mine from the bench, and he lays it beside his. Next is his sweater, then my scarf, then he’s got my jeans around my ankles and is coaxing me down by the hips. My knees land on his jacket, he wraps his arms around my waist and he leans me back into the little nest he’s created.
Our lips meet like they’ve practiced this a hundred times, but the electric jolt that shoots through me reminds me that this is far from familiar territory. His tongue slips into my mouth and slowly traces the edge of my teeth. I lean in deeper and, with one last glance at Tristan, smirking in the corner, I close my eyes and give in.
— Tristan —
I watch Julian wrap his arms around her waist, kissing her like the classical romantic he is. I catch her eyes just before they fall shut and she goes lax against him, and I clench my teeth in anticipation. Fuck. They’re still wearing most of their clothes and I’m already halfw
ay to hard. How am I going to make it all the way through them having sex?
Julian’s hand slides onto her ass, and mine slides into my pocket to pull out my phone. By the time I’ve hit record his hand has moved from her ass to her back. Through the phone screen, I watch her fumbling fingers dig into his belt. He stops to help her. When the belt comes off he pulls her arms up, taking her top with it. Her bra is white and simple and somehow, sexier than any of the many intentionally sexy bras I’ve seen.
She slips her fingers under the elastic of his boxers but she is too shy, or inexperienced, or something, to just dive for the goods. It is torture to watch them take so long, be so tender, like they’re lovers. I’ve never seen Julian this way with anyone else, but strangely I’m not jealous—I’m bizarrely turned on.
Her fingers decide to travel north, unbuttoning his shirt. He pulls one of her bra cups back and bends to take her nipple in his mouth. She lets out a little moan and I can actually see her thighs quiver. I want to stick my face between them.
She pushes his shirt back so his chest is exposed. Julian, mercifully, reaches into his boxers and pulls his own dick out. I want it in my mouth. I want it in my ass. I want my dick in her, anywhere in her. I stay rooted where I am though, teeth clenched, ignoring the ever increasing tightness of my pants.
What did she mean when she asked, “Only you?” It’s impossible to tell if she was disappointed or relieved by the answer. It doesn’t matter. It certainly is not going to be only him. I’ve just got to be patient. Unfortunately, patience has never been one of my strengths.
Julian’s fingers dip between her legs now. I can tell from the way he twists and arches his wrist that he’s slipping them into her pussy. My pants have become painfully constricting.
Her hands reach down and cup his balls. She lifts them like she’s testing their weight, then lets them balance as her fingers spread out. Her other hand leaves to tease the base of his cock with light little touches. I know all of Julian’s weaknesses. If she—
She does.
She trails up to the head and wraps her palm firmly around it, squeezing. He breaks their kiss with a little gasp, and his whole body shivers. I’ve never understood why squeezing the head does that to him, but I love using it to my advantage. I wonder how she knows that trick—it doesn’t really seem like something a prissy sort of girl should know.
Julian moans and she runs her other hand down his chest and to the floor. She scoots her knees backward, until her torso is parallel to the floor and her tight ass is laid bare in the air, begging to be fucked. I can’t help but reach down and grab myself—if I don’t my pants are going to rip at the seams.
She lets go of his cock with her hand only to replace her fingers with her tongue, slowly licking her way around until she comes 360. He groans, his hips jerking just a little. She licks her way down until the head is fully in her mouth. Julian slowly lowers himself so his ass is on his heels. He puts his hands on the back of her head, coaxing her down—how he can stand how slow and deliberate she’s being I will never know. I would be fucking the back of her throat by now.
I can’t believe she tried to insist she didn’t want this. Looking at her slowly teasing his dick into her mouth, she’s so obviously into this, into him. An unfamiliar little fire goes off inside my belly. Is that jealousy? Am I jealous that she’s into him? No, I’m turned on by it. Maybe I’m just jealous because I don’t think she’d be that into it if it was me.
I laugh at myself as I remember the way she squirmed and bucked to fuck my tongue. I remember how hard she came, how out of breath she was, how deliriously glazed her eyes were. Of course she’d be into it.
It, my inner asshole whispers. That just means you know how to make her come, it doesn’t mean she’d be so into you that she’d want to make you come.
Fuck my inner asshole. I reposition the phone and grip my cock tighter.
Mia’s neck twists, so I see her throat as she slides his dick all the way down her throat. Her lips reach the base of his cock and his hands slide into her hair. His face is completely relaxed but the muscles of his thighs are stretched taut, his toes curling. My lover, who so rarely allows himself to be lost, is surrendering his ever-present control to her.
A little bit of pre-cum leaks down my head and hits the edge of my fingers. I rub my thumb over the tip of my cock and feel that familiar tingle all the way down my legs, over my kneecaps, into my ankles. It is taking a fuck-ton of self-control to stay where I am.
Mia’s only pulling back about halfway up his cock and her speed is increasing. My balls tighten in empathetic response, as if it were me who was about to blow a load down her throat. I wish it was. Or, even better, into her pussy while Julian comes in her mouth.
Shit. I can’t even fucking jack off to this without jiggling the camera so much that the video will be useless. What a bizarre form of torture. I wonder if the government has thought of this?
Julian’s fist tightens in her hair; his teeth grit. I know that face. He’s going to come…But then he jerks her head off his cock and pulls it back so she’s looking at him. With serious eyes, he brings his other hand to her face, then sits up to kiss her. It really does look like they’re lovers. I didn’t even ask him to make it look like they were in a relationship—just them fucking would be enough.
He pulls her in, so they are torso to torso, lips to lips, arms wrapped around each other, his cock nestled between her thighs. They kiss, long, deep, and slow. The way their heads twist in exactly the right timing, matching each other’s movements—they really do have chemistry. Fuck.
Now he’s coaxing her backward, so she is lying flat. He crawls on top of her, then backs up so that his head is between her knees. I twist the phone horizontally.
He travels up her thighs quickly. When he reaches her pussy I can’t see what he’s doing, but whatever it is has got her arching her back, clenching her teeth, and squeezing her eyes shut.
He builds her up the same way she built him up, and just like he did, she pulls him up by a handful of hair just before she comes. Julian hasn’t lost his hard-on this whole time, and as he slides up so they are again face-to-face, she pulls her thighs up over his hips. He bends down to kiss her again, rocking his hips in a circular motion until he catches her pussy with the tip of his cock.
He rocks forward, but doesn’t quite get it in. He goes again and again though, slow and circular, patient and calculating. It’s been a while since I’ve watched Julian fuck a woman—well, with the obvious exception of last week, but I was too distracted by my own fury and lust to really notice anything. Now, despite being so turned on I might come just from watching them, I am really watching them.
When his dick finally enters her, and I watch his tight ass sink down, watch her legs hook over it, pulling him deeper, I actually groan out loud. The hint of a smirk appears on the corner of Julian’s lips, even as he is kissing her, telling me he heard. That smug ass. God I want to fuck them. Either of them. Both of them.
I visually trace the tendons up Julian’s calves, through his knees, connecting to his thighs as they flex and he pulls up only to plunge back into her. My own knees flood with the desire to thrust. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp and I want to bury my dick in it.
Of all the fucking women I could have found myself accidentally lusting over, it had to be Mia Winters.
Julian pulls out, then plunges again, still slow, still circular. He really has amazing control. Now that their kiss has broken and her head is arched back on the floor, his eyes are open and watching her. His lips are curved up in self-satisfaction as he revels in what he’s making her feel…
And I am stuck here watching him watch her. If I can just hold out a little bit longer…
Julian’s thrusts grow shorter but faster. His skin is beginning to go red on his face and neck, and around his hairline it glistens with fresh sweat. His eyes become less focused. She’s panting rhythmically but she’s not quite there yet. He’s going to come before she f
inishes if he doesn’t slow down, but he can’t do that without drawing her away from orgasm as well.
All my senses become heightened as I watch their teeth clench, their gasps and moans turn into groans. Mia’s hips begin to jerk upward, faster and faster, meeting his thrusts. The way her neck cranes only to roll free, then cranes again and rolls free, the way her teeth are bared—she’s so close—
“Aaaaggggghhhhh,” Julian lets out a long shocked moan. He slows down, captured in the initial moment of release. I can tell from the way he opens his eyes and looks at her—shocked, apologetic, guilty for being so satiated—that he had been trying to hold back but his body took over.
She responds with a frustrated groan, her hips still bucked up into his. My groin pulses, psychosomatically experiencing the sensation of her pussy clenching it the way it must be clenching his.
She closes her eyes and pulls him into another kiss. He pulls out of her and thrusts in again, but it’s been just long enough that she’s no longer at the peak she was at before. His legs quiver with the exhaustion of exertion and satisfaction. Julian is a good lover, he will try to bring her back there, but I’ve got a better idea.
I press the stop-record button and put my phone down. Finally, I unbutton my pants and push them down along with my boxers. My cock happily springs free, and like a beacon, it leads me to what it wants.
I grab Julian by the hips and pull him out of her. They both open their eyes and look at me in surprise, but Julian instantly cooperates. He turns around, swipes his tongue across my lips, teasing me with the taste of her, and then gets out of the way.
Mia hoists herself up onto her elbows just as I plant my hands on either side of her hips. She glares at me and her lips part, obviously she is about to protest—such a broken record—but then her eyes shift down, between our bodies, and I know where they land. It’s delightful to see the little micro curls and twitches of her lips as she wages an internal war between what her mind’s got to say about our long history of hating each other and what her body has got to say about desperately wanting the orgasm it almost had.
Blackmail (Skeleton Key Book 1) Page 5