Page 24 of Caged By the Stranger (Bad Decisions #1)

A cool dribble hits the top of my seam and runs downward.

I stiffen, still not used to having lube there, but then his fingers swirl through my crease just like they did last night.

A sound of relief floods out of me from that light contact.

I can’t believe I was actually hoping he’d give me a repeat of the treatment he did last night. A repeat! Listen to me!

It has to be the curiosity of coming while in the cage. Will I be able to feel like that again, or was last night just a one-off?

“This was such a nice surprise,” he murmurs, circling my rim. And then he taps the center with his fingertip. “Such…” My hole spasms against the contact, and he continues, “a lovely…” I spasm in response again. “Surprise.”

Fucking hell. He’s playing me like an instrument, and my body is singing on command.

The pressure in my balls and cock has reached the point of discomfort again, even after that maddening release yesterday.

Want is quickly becoming need . He’d better do more than tap soon, so I don’t resort to begging again.

“Are you ready, Charlie?” he whispers, holding the tip of his finger against my heat.

My hole is practically grabbing at him, and he’s asking me that? I let out a frustrated scoff, hoping he doesn’t expect an actual reply. I want to get back to climbing toward an orgasm, not redirecting toward sexual frustration.

“Uhn!” He forces the noise out of my mouth by slipping his finger inside to the second knuckle without further preamble.

The satisfied sigh I let out as I absorb the sensation of fulfillment should embarrass me, but I don’t let it. I deserve this. I think I earned it well enough.

He starts working his finger in slow thrusts, pausing to glide over my prostate every few insertions. It’s even more wonderful than last night, now that it’s not my first rodeo. Except, the longer it goes on, the more it becomes not wonderful enough.

A thick, satisfied sound purrs behind me. “Mmm.”

I freeze as the back of one of my thighs slams into the front of one of his. How long have I been ramming my ass back onto his finger? When did he stop doing all the work? Oh, God.

“No. Don’t stop. I was quite enjoying that.”

I want to oblige, but I can’t bring myself to move. So, I just stay poised, his finger jammed deep in my ass. Biting my lip, I send up a silent plea that he’ll take pity on me. My cock is leaking, so it gives me hope I won’t have to suffer much longer.

Sighing, he retracts his finger, breaking a piece of my heart. Shit. I fucked this up.

“Greedy and yet still so shy.” I feel his middle finger line up next to his index finger at my rim, then, lighting me up with relief. “It’s all right, Charlie. It’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

He thought I was shy? Maybe I just gave off a normal reaction to being handed a card to a private sex club.

As I hold my breath and wait for those two fingers to deliver, however, the ‘attracted’ part tumbles around in my brain.

I stow it on a secret shelf in my mind next to the word ‘handsome’ like a trophy.

A rush of preening trickles across my skin.

There’s pressure, but my body gives way easily. It knows it has a welcome visitor and acts like a practiced host now. My moan falls freely from my lips this time. I’m over any shame when I adjust to the fullness inside me. It’s like a missing piece has been put into place, making me more whole.

“And this ass,” he murmurs, rubbing his other palm over one of my cheeks and giving it a squeeze. “I knew it would be just as perfect as that cock of yours.”

I groan, low and long, at the praise. I can’t help it, combined with the exquisite fullness and zings to my gland. It’s amping me up, pumping blood to where I need it.

It goes on and on; the mattress jiggling beneath us with each thrust of his fingers. The nature documentary murmurs in the background. It’s just me, Rory, the darkness, and those two bold fingers. We’re a dirty secret, rocking in time with the ship while everyone else is sleeping.

The pressure of the cable grows firmer against my swollen sac. My cock reached the capacity of the cage five long minutes ago. Why haven’t I come yet?

My moans have morphed into grunts now. I wait, but nothing happens. There’s just the sensation of my release being blocked and…not quite there. If he could just…graze my gland a little better. More like he did yesterday. Maybe I could…

Shit. Am I being greedy? Was this too much to ask after that release yesterday?

I swear, though, it feels like Rory isn’t using the same technique.

He’s only tapping my bundle of nerves every three or four strokes now.

Half the time, his fingertips glide around the outside of it.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s either distracted or…

Is he half-assing it on purpose to prolong things?

“P-please,” I stammer.

“What?”

Fuck. Why did he remove his fingers? That’s not what I meant.

Panting, I angle my head back and catch sight of his naked hip shadowed by the glow from the TV behind him. Dropping my head, I redirect my eyes back to the mattress, trying to blot out the reminder that he’s completely naked.

“Do something.”

His hands take two handfuls of my ass. They knead the meat there as though my flesh is dough, and he purrs again.

“Tell me what you need, handsome.”

When his thumb traces up my seam, I shiver. My hole clenches between my squished cheeks, angry that it’s being ignored.

“Fuck,” I whisper, gritting my teeth at the fact he’s somehow managed to bring me to the point of begging again. “Fuck,” I repeat, but then the simple answer to my problems tumbles from my lips when I add, “ me .”

“Mm. Gladly,” he croons, leaning over me, covering my back with his chest.

His hands alight on the mattress right next to mine. I can smell his spicy soap scent as his hair tickles the back of my shoulders when he places a kiss at the base of my neck.

“How?” he asks, moving his mouth to the side of my neck for another kiss. “With my tongue?” Grazing the back of my neck with his open mouth, he moves to the other side, trailing his lips up to behind my ear. If I don’t sound like I’m winded from the thrill, it’s a miracle.

“With my fingers?” he suggests, nipping at my earlobe.

At that same moment, something hot and solid presses between my ass cheeks. My eyes flare open to the blue glow from the TV on the pillows. I can feel his hip bones press into my cheeks. I can feel the veins in his cock nestle right up against my seam.

God, he’s so hard. Hard for me .

A shaky whimper escapes me, a needy, wanton, and possibly slightly terrified sound. But I don’t move. As far as my pucker is concerned, his cock is a magnet. It tries to take hold, giving his silky flesh a little kiss as I spasm and whimper again.

Lowering his head, he rests his mouth on my shoulder. I feel a smile press to my skin.

“Mm,” he hums, giving his hips a little nudge. “Or, yes…there is that ,” he says, as though he’s agreeing with something I said.

Rising, his cock slides between my sticky cheeks and then he pulls away. What does that mean?

His hands go to my hips and glide over my ass soothingly. “Turn around for me.”

Turn around? If I turn around, I’ll…have to look at him. I’ll see him.

“I need your help with something,” he amends, as though he senses my stage fright.

The human instinct that makes a person answer a call for assistance has me rising slowly to my knees. I don’t turn around, though, only glance over my shoulder. His hand grabs one of mine. I look down when I feel him place the bottle of lube into my palm.

He shifts to the side at the same time he urges me by the shoulder.

I angle around slowly, glancing down at his cock.

It’s the first time I’ve seen it, and it steals my breath.

Guiding my waist, he helps me face him. I move, dumbstruck like a rag doll, gaping at his erection and the way it’s pointing right at me.

I sneak glimpses of his shadowed face and feel mine burn.

It’s so…personal, and I hate myself for my fear of seeing my partner.

Millions of people in the world look at each other when they’re intimate.

Why can’t I? I can hear all my brothers’ teasing about how I’ve never once brought a girl home.

I can hear all their detailed comments about the women they’ve been with over the years, and how those conversations about brotherly rites of passage always left me feeling like a fraud among them.

What would they say if they ever found out what I do in the dark?

Guiding my other hand, he cups it around the underside of his cock, pulling a gasp from me. He’s warm and heavy against my palm, and I like the way he feels. Like feeling him against my skin. Like holding him in my grip as though he’s trusting me with this part of himself.

He flicks the lid of the lube open, moves my other hand, and squeezes it, making the liquid spill out onto him.

My lungs heave, feeling the liquid dribble around him and into my palm. I blink, mesmerized by the sight of him in my hand.

“Get me good and ready, Charlie.” He takes the bottle from me, tosses it aside, and circles the wrist of my other hand, urging it to turn. “I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

Right…because…because I just begged him to fuck me.

I just asked him to put this inside me. I swallow, watching my hand as I twist it around his length, coating him.

His breathing sounds like it’s difficult for him to control as I slowly work the lube over him, filling me with a flutter of delight. He likes my touch.

Drawing my hand away, he takes his other one and smears it over my palm, transferring the excess liquid onto his own. I blink dumbly, even though I have an idea of why he did it.

I hover there, immobile, just blinking down between us. His cock glistening under the glow of the TV, mine shimmering in its cage.