Page 17 of A Smile Full of Lies (Secrets of Stonewood #1)

The first video MaskTok shoved at me wasn’t even subtle.

A dark figure stepped out of shadow, violet neon stitched across his mask in a grin too wide to be human.

The glowing Xs where his eyes should’ve been were unnerving, but I couldn’t look away.

His voice rumbled through my phone speaker, low and dangerous even with the volume turned almost all the way down.

The words slid over my skin, too intimate for a For You Page.

Every word dragged through my mind — slow and dangerous — like it was meant just for me.

I should’ve scrolled past. Instead, I tapped his profile: @NoxObscura.

Nox Obscura had hundreds of videos with millions of likes.

Every one of them was darker, sharper, and hungrier than the last. The more I scrolled, the more my body hummed with that restless heat, my thighs pressing together like friction alone might help.

I had a passing crazy thought then, that maybe it was the name, that maybe, anything with a name that even slightly sounded like Knox was enough to get me off.

I shook my head – there couldn’t be any real connection – Knox hid from the media, and Nox Obscura was an on camera personality – how opposite could you get?

It was obvious that me finding out that Knox owned that damn magazine had made me see him in everything.

Not , came the insidious thought, that I didn’t already see him that way …

I turned my attention back to the phone, to the videos, to the intimate, dangerous, seductive images.

By the time I dragged myself back to my laptop, my hands were shaking. I pulled up my DMs with StrayDog777 and typed fast before I could overthink it.

GraveyardGirl93

Okay. Question. Is it crossing a line if I get myself off to @NoxObscura’s videos? Because I want to. Bad. But I feel like that makes me some kind of creep.

I stared at the screen, my pulse hammering in my ears, then hit send. I was practically coming out of my skin by the time he replied.

StrayDog777

They’re thirst traps, honey. You’re supposed to get hot and bothered. That’s kind of the point. Nobody’s gonna revoke your good-person card for enjoying the view. If watching turns you on, then mission accomplished on their end.

The reply should’ve embarrassed me into logging off. Instead, it lit me up hotter than I wanted to admit, as if he’d given me permission.

Nobody’s gonna revoke your good-person card.

Like a switch had flipped, every ounce of my restraint dissolved.

A shaky laugh bubbled out of me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle it. I didn’t want to disturb Knox, and I definitely didn’t want to give him a reason to wonder what I was doing in his guest room… especially considering what I was about to do.

I unlocked my phone again, thumb trembling just enough to give me away, and pulled his page back up. @NoxObscura. Hundreds of thumbnails of that eerie, unsettling mask filled my screen. It was cold and somehow magnetic all at once. There were so many videos, so many options.

The air in the house stayed cool, but my skin burned. That sharp clash — chill against heat — made every nerve stand on end. My nipples pebbled hard under the thin fabric of my tank top.

I tapped the first pinned video on Nox Obscura’s profile. The mask stared out at me, blank and merciless, while his distorted voice rolled out low and sharp. My pulse jumped like it was chasing every clipped syllable, every dark promise wrapped in that menacing growl.

I peeled my panties off, tossed them aside, and slid two fingers between my thighs. My clit was already swollen, begging for it, and when I circled it, wet heat spread everywhere. The slick sound of it nearly drowned out Nox Obscura’s voice. Almost.

And of course I thought about Knox. How could I not?

He was right across the hall, stretched out in his bed, completely unaware that I was here with my hand between my legs, getting off with my face buried in his hoodie, inhaling his scent like a fucking junkie.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this in his fucking house, with him sleeping just across the hall from me.

My stomach twisted, heat shooting through me at the thought of him catching me like this, seeing what a needy little mess I’d turned into. Too bad I’d locked the guest room door.

But then there was StrayDog777. God, what the fuck was wrong with me?

I’d practically handed him my fantasies the first night we ever spoke.

We’d discussed in detail how I wanted to be chased, wanted to be caught.

And then tonight, I’d flat-out asked him if I should use another man’s videos to get myself off. Who even does that?

What if he’s hard right now? What if reading that made his cock throb, made him stroke it while he pictured my hand sliding down my stomach, circling my clit, my fingers pushing inside my throbbing pussy?

The thought made me wetter. My hips pushed up into my own touch, greedy, my clit throbbing under my fingertips as I worked myself faster. I pushed two fingers in, gasped at how tight I clenched around them, then dragged them back out to rub my clit again, harder this time.

I played another of Nox Obscura’s clips, his deep, distorted voice crawling straight into my bloodstream, fueling every filthy thought. Knox’s shadow, Nox Obscura’s mask, StrayDog’s anonymous hands… all three tangled together in my head until I couldn’t separate them.

When my orgasm hit, it ripped through me like a live wire.

My back arched off the mattress, thighs trembling as my clit spasmed under my fingers.

Wetness coated my hand, my stomach tightening with every pulse of release.

I bit down hard on my lip to choke back the moan clawing its way up my throat, my body jerking helplessly as I rode it out.

I kept rubbing until the aftershocks wrung me raw, grinding against my palm, phone tilting in my other hand.

When the tremors finally ebbed, I lay there flushed and ruined, staring into Nox Obscura’s mask on my phone screen like it had been watching me fall apart the whole time.

My thumb hovered, breath still ragged, before I gave in.

Sighing, I double-tapped the screen, watched the heart bloom red, and hit follow .

Just once. Just enough to brand myself as one more faceless follower in his swarm of fans.

The rush of it soured almost instantly. What the hell was I doing?

I’d just gotten myself off to videos of some stranger in a mask.

Worse, I’d confessed it in real time to another stranger in my DMs. And Knox…

God, Knox was right across the hall, sleeping like nothing had changed, while I was in his guest room soaking his sheets over a man I didn’t even know.

Shame and heat tangled until I couldn’t breathe. My skin prickled like the eyes behind that mask were actually trained on me, watching and judging me for what I’d just done.

Was StrayDog777 kicked back in a computer chair or sprawled out on a bed somewhere, picturing me right now with my legs spread, fingers glistening, coming apart to another man’s voice? Was he hard, stroking himself, grinning at the mess he’d coaxed me into with a few well-placed lines of text?

I groaned and yanked the blankets back and crawled under them, phone clutched to my chest like I could smother the evidence.

But the like and the follow were already out there.

Somewhere out there, Nox Obscura would get a notification of a new like and follow, and even if I unliked the video and unfollowed him, those notifications wouldn’t be erased.

Fuck. What did I just do?