Chapter 109 MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL
SEBASTIAN'S POV
The cabin is suddenly too small and quiet. The sound is replaced by my own heartbeat hammering against my ribs.
Ragnar’s voice is still inside my skull sounding rough and dangerous, even though the link is wide open again and he hasn’t spoken since he ordered me to touch myself.
Sebastian.
My name in his mind feels like a physical touch on my spine. It's so warm and possessive, and for a moment, I delude myself that we're fully bonded.
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed with my knees drawn up and my arms wrapped around them like that could possibly hide how hard I still am.
My shorts are soaked through from the front to back and I can feel the damp fabric clinging to my cock with every tiny shift.
Slick has leaked down to my thighs all sticky and warm, I was straight up ready to be bred.
Too bad Ragnar wasn't here with me.
My fingers were still trembling from where I’d obeyed him, my two fingers buried deep and curling against that spot while my other hand stroked myself exactly the way he commanded.
I came so hard I nearly blacked out.
And courtesy of the new mental link, he definitely felt it.
Every pulse, every sob and every time I shamelessly whimpered out his name, he heard and through my eyes, he saw it all.
My face is burning so badly I’m surprised my body hasn't combusted yet.
Sebastian, he says once again, softer this time. Open your eyes.
I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, I think he's seen enough.
“I–I can’t.”
A low rumble rolls through the bond from him to me showing me his displeasure at my disobedience.
Open your eyes, pup.
The endearment hits me like cold water in a desert and I lift my eyelids before I can stop them.
The room is dim, it's now late afternoon with light slanting through the single window of the cabin but I can still see myself reflected in the small, cracked mirror above the washstand.
And I'm sure Ragnar sees the mirror too.
It has a young man with messy black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.
Like someone who's ran a marathon, his cheeks were flushed crimson. But his lips were swollen and parted with glassy eyes.
“Damn Sebastian, you really have on fuck me eyes right now.”
I ignore the annoying wolf in my mind who's quite content to watch what's going on with Ragnar and I with glee.
Between my swollen lips, red flushed cheeks and short pants I've been taking, I look wrecked.
I look exactly like someone who just came, screaming out his mate’s name while that mate watched and commanded every stroke.
Beautiful, Ragnar murmurs through the link his voice thick with something dark and reverent.
I make a small, mortified sound and drop my face into my knees.
“Stop–don’t–”
Look at yourself.
It isn’t quite an order, but it’s close enough that my head lifts up from my knees anyway.
In the mirror, I watch my own chest rise and fall too fast and I see the way my throat works when I swallow.
It's even worse when you can see yourself and Ragnar knows this too so it's not surprising when my pupils flare wider as his next words ring across my mind.
Touch yourself again.
My breath catches.
“Alpha–” He's going too far! This way is so much more obscene and–
One finger, he says once more. Just one. Slide it inside slowly Sebastian.
My hand moves before my brain can catch up to it slowly slipping beneath the waistband of my ruined shorts and my fingers finding the slick mess between my legs.
I can't believe I'm doing this again.
And somehow, I haven't thought of stopping not once since all of this started.
I’m still sensitive from earlier on and to my mortification, still dripping out slick like a faulty faucet. The pad of my middle finger circles once around myself in a teasing motion then presses inside.
I gasped out a sharp, surprised inhale, even though I knew it was coming.
Good boy.
The praise rolls through me like warm honey.
I should not be affected by things like this.
My hole flutters around the single finger, greedy and trying to pull it in deeper. It causes me to whimper.
Add another.
I obey.
Two fingers now in me, slow and stretching myself. The burn is sweet and perfect as evidence of my cock jerking against my stomach and leaking steadily again.
Fuck yourself for me, he orders. Same rhythm you used earlier, slow and deep.
I do.
It's like he's controlling me and I'm all happy to follow his instructions.
In and out.
Again and again.
I'm groaning and making little moans that makes me embarrassed and I see myself live and direct making them.
I do slow drags that brush that spot every time as my hips rock down to meet each thrust.
My voice is a cacophony of soft, needy sounds spilling from my lips.
Look at yourself while you do it.
My gaze snaps back to the mirror before looking away quickly.
I look obscene.
My legs are spread wide with my knees bent, shorts shoved down just enough to expose my cock and the place where my fingers disappear inside of me.
My free hand is braced on the bed grasping at nothing as my mouth is open wide and panting.
My eyes are glassy with pupils so wide there’s almost no other color left .
I look like I belong solely to him.
You do, he growls through the link.
Can he hear my thoughts now?!
Faster.
I speed up my pace in short, desperate thrusts that make wet squelching sounds all throughout the quiet cabin.
Harder Sebastian.
I slam them in deep and curling so I'm hitting that spot over and over.
“Alpha–please–”
My voice has gone up a pitch or two as I'm now whining and begging.
Not yet.