Chapter 71: Lesson two
Chapter 70
Jack
"Hello." I answer.
"Sorry for the interruption, but you asked us to call if anything suspicious happened." The voice on the other end says.
"Hmm." I respond.
"We had someone access the CCTV at the bus station. It was someone high up — we couldn’t block the information from leaking. Sorry, sir."
My fingers tighten around the phone. A cold wave slides down my spine. I’d asked the best friends to give me their mapped route, deleted nearly every trace from gas stations and bus stops, scrubbed everything I could reach. Yet, somehow, it wasn’t enough.
I have to prepare for the worst-case scenario.
"Understood. Thank you. Do inform me if anything else comes up," I say, then end the call.
The silence that follows feels extremely loud.
***
Nolan
Ciel closes the door suspiciously, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
"What are you doing?" I ask cautiously.
"It’s time for our second lesson."
He moves closer , too close, climbing onto the bed and crawling toward me. My brain stalls, distracted by how unfairly pretty he is. Just a t-shirt, bare legs, and that look that makes it impossible to think straight.
"Okay." I say, voice cracking. I want to escape. I also kind of want to die here.
He’s so close. There’s barely any distance between us, just heat and tension and the sound of my heartbeat.
"Touch yourself."
"W-what." I stammer, scrambling back. The headboard hits my spine, cutting off any chance of retreat.
"You heard me. What’s there to be embarrassed about? We’ve seen each other naked all the time," he says, tilting his head.
The casual way he says it makes my pulse jump. He looks too composed, too confident, and it only makes the heat crawling up my neck worse.
"That’s different!" I whisper-yell, the words coming out sharper than I mean.
"Still, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about," he replies, voice smooth, almost patient. He sounds like he’s explaining something obvious to a child, which somehow makes it worse.
"There is! What lesson is this anyway!" I blurt, panic threading through the words before I can stop it. My mind flashes to the last "lesson"—his lips, too close, too soft, still burned into memory.
"Handjob. I wouldn’t know until I saw what you do," he says like it makes perfect sense. And in some twisted way, it does.
Dammit.
"Or you want to try on me?" he asks, already tugging at the hem of his shirt. His tone is teasing, but there’s something underneath it—something that feels like a challenge.
"No!" I say quickly. My heart stutters so hard it hurts. I can’t handle that, I would die. Literally.
I exhale, defeated, the heat between us thick enough to taste and bring my shirt to my lips and bite it.
"Oh wow, have I ever told you your hours in the gym are worth it," he says, placing his hand on my chest and giving a deliberate squeeze. My muscles tense at the contact, and I slap his hand away, glaring at him.
He’s been spending far too much time with Jack, and it shows in the way he teases me now.
He chuckles, low and knowing, like he’s enjoying every second of my flustered reaction.
And I reach into the waistband on my shorts.
My fingers tremble slightly as I pull myself out, betrayer is what my fucking dick is, already hard before literally anything happens.
"Did you know, you’re pretty large for a beta?" He says, studying me like it’s a bloody science project.
"Fuck you." I say, but it comes out muffled thanks to the shirt in my mouth.
Ciel smirks at me; he knows what I meant.
"Go on, do what you normally do, pretend I’m not here and think about, I don’t know... What do you think of when you jerk off?" He says, leaning back slightly, eyes sharp and golden, fixed on me like he can see straight through my thoughts.
You. Obviously, I don’t say that.
So I just pretend he’s not here, which is harder than I could have imagined. Every nerve in my body is screaming his name, every glance of his golden eyes burning into me like fire.
He’s years upon years of my fantasies, every imagined touch, every whispered word, every impossible scenario I’ve conjured in the quietest, darkest corners of my mind.
I try to follow his instructions, try to ignore him, but the thought alone is ridiculous.
My chest rises and falls too quickly, my hands are trembling—not out of weakness, but out of need, out of anticipation, out of the undeniable truth that I’m completely undone by him.
My body betrays me before my mind has a chance to catch up.I cum on my stomach, my body trembling with the sudden, overwhelming release.
"Hmmmnn," Ciel murmurs, the sound low and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment.
"That was ass," he adds, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher.
I drop my shirt from my lips, heat still crawling through me, and glare at him. "You can’t just say that," I protest, voice shaky, half-irritated, half-breathless.
"But it was, it was clinical," he says with a nonchalant shrug, as if he’s dissecting the situation with detached precision.
He scoots closer, deliberate, patient, and confident. There’s no rush in his movement, but every inch he covers is unknowingly making me feel exposed, unsteady, and achingly aware of him.
"Watch and learn, amateur," he says, that familiar teasing edge in his voice.
I groan, glancing down at him, heart still racing. "Wait, I’m still sensitive," I warn, voice trembling despite the bravado I try to muster.
"I’ll be gentle," he says, and his palm closes around me, soft and warm.
"You don’t just want to get to the release," he murmurs, leaning in.
"Like kissing—it’s the build-up. That’s amazing."
I flinch, every nerve screaming, but somehow, impossibly, I get hard again in record time his hand.
How could I not? I’ve loved him for years. Always. And now—this. Ciel touching me, teasing me, making me ache in ways I never imagined.
His hand is small and soft against me, the warmth, the pressure, the deliberate gentleness—it’s exquisite, maddening, and entirely him. My chest rises and falls too fast, heat pooling everywhere, my mind a storm of want, fear, and disbelief.