Page 32 of Caged By the Stranger (Bad Decisions #1)

Rory

Watching the emotions that flicker across Charlie’s face is always a thing of awe. Watching them face-to-face while I drag my cockhead over his slickened hole—the most entrancing thing I’ve ever seen. And yet, slightly heartbreaking.

God, if he would just let himself go. I can’t imagine the way the passion would seep through his features. I want to see it so badly, but I refuse to push him.

His eyes slip shut and stay pinched closed.

A little huff leaves his lips. It sounds equal parts sexual frustration and stage fright, but he’s not made a move to get off my lap.

He looks so good in my bed, so good on top of me.

If he knew how many times I’ve dreamt about this, he’d probably up and run out of here the way he does each time we’ve finished enjoying each other.

All I can do is hope. Hope and please him as best I can.

So, that’s exactly what I set about doing.

Running a hand up his thigh, I stroke the soft skin at the juncture of his hip and then glide my palm back down over his flexed muscles.

I can feel him soften beneath my touch, relaxing because of my hand.

I love the way he responds to a delicate touch.

So gruff on the exterior and yet, so quickly yielding to the kind of intimacy I long to give him.

A shadow of conflict flashes across his face.

Biting his lower lip, he turns his head to the side, and I feel him push against me.

I stare unabashedly at his face as he lowers himself onto me, waiting for the second those lips part at the feel of me.

The little groans he makes and the way his body slowly cuffs me have my own eyes slipping closed. Fuck . He’s so perfect.

Whatever his hang-ups are that prevented him from bottoming before no longer make me sad for him at this moment.

I’m too grateful for the knowledge that I’m the only man he’s trusted enough to take.

I like knowing I’m the only one he’s taken.

Call me possessive, but I accepted long ago that’s what Charlie North does to me.

I haven’t for a minute imagined he hasn’t at least tried with someone else.

The way he looked so distraught, nearly deranged, when he first showed up at my house three months ago, I could tell.

He’d been experimenting. I hated the thought of him experimenting with someone else—even himself—but I know it’s what he needed.

I shouldn’t have been so happy to deduce that he probably hadn’t had it in him to go through with anything with another person.

I could tell just by how jittery he was, how tight he still was.

It was like every touch I gave him was brand new, more firsts he’d been experiencing.

I wanted to devour him the second I walked into my living room and found him ready and waiting for me, silently asking.

The bottom of his ass touches down on the top of my thighs. His constricted balls, so ripe and full, settle on my navel. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath at the heat and pressure of him encasing me. I need a moment or three for a sensation like this.

I can feel the puffs of breath venting over me and wonder if he’s looking, if he’s curious to see us joined in this position.

I knead his thigh and let loose one little groan.

It’s always a constant struggle to hold back.

If I didn’t, I know it would be too much for him.

He’s not ready to learn just how much I want him.

Maybe he never will be, but for now, I’m content with keeping my full desire locked away.

Whatever he feels or sees is enough to get him over his anxiety about changing things up.

He moves, just in fragments at first, riding me in tiny undulations.

I can’t not watch, so I open my eyes, but keep them focused on where we’re joined.

I know my Charlie is too shy to have a witness to the passion on his face.

It’s what did me in the first time I saw this sexy, confident-looking man at that convention last year, quietly checking other men out.

I’d decided to make the rounds to a few conventions, covertly observing the company’s top performers, and was already curious about tracking him down.

It’s funny now that I was always intrigued by how articulate his emails were that I’d been cc’d on over the years, and the way he adds the salutation, ‘ Respectfully yours ,’ at the end of each of them.

As soon as I caught him quietly ogling that gaggle of attractive convention goers, however, what looked good on paper became ten times better in reality.

That blush on his cheeks and the flicker of his pulse in his neck when I spoke to him made me want to whisk him away and cover his mouth with mine.

I wasn’t sure if he’d even show up at my club, to be honest.

When Silas, the club’s security guard, called to let me know, I was pleasantly surprised.

I waited, though. I waited, and I watched, curious about how my employee would find his experience at Illusion.

I never review video footage from the club anymore.

I have a manager and security people for that, but I couldn’t help myself.

Once I saw what I saw, I was doomed. A prisoner to everything that is Charlie North.

From his anxiousness, his wholesome reactions, and even the bewildered little smiles he made after each of his visits—how his serious facade would return and he’d button himself up—I couldn’t stand not experiencing that from the other side of the panel.

Before I even dropped to my knees that first night, I think I knew I was going to be a goner.

Once I did, well, it just became nothing short of an obsession.

God, he was so beautiful. If I’d seen who it was that worked for me all these years, I’d never have gotten anything done.

His hips raise up higher this time, and then drop back down. The sound he makes is another song of discovery that has me preening. He’s such a maddening contradiction—all gruff denial and bottled-up passion. Fuck, I love being responsible for making him feel good.

He rocks again and then again, spanking my pelvis with the bottom of his.

One hand is still gripping my headboard, and he drops the other in a fist to my pillow and groans.

How I wish he weren’t afraid to touch me.

At least, he seems to be over his hesitancy about riding my cock, thrusting back down again with more vigor.

It creates a balloon of delicious pressure in my abdomen and balls.

I’m so glad I jerked off before he came over, or I’d be disappointing him right now.

I want him to enjoy this to the fullest, and I’m grateful I was right about his anticipated visit tonight.

“ Yess ,” I hiss. “Just like that.”

It’s taking everything in me to keep my gaze averted from his.

I do the only other thing I can, snaking my hands up his torso and chest, mapping the feel of his skin.

The way his stomach flexes under my touch is a heady connection to his movements.

Reaching back up, I stroke my fingertip around one of his nipples.

He lets out a strangled sound and tenses.

Not just his body, but his channel. It grips me tight, a telling sign.

I do glance up now, unable to miss witnessing this moment. With his neck arched back and his mouth open, he moans, coming through his cage and onto my stomach. If he were a dessert, I’d eat him alive right now. I swear.

Sitting up, I reach underneath his shoulders and grip him.

Flipping him down to the mattress on his back, I trail my hands up his arms and weave his fingers into mine.

Drawing my hips back, I tug my cock from his greedy pulses and instead focus on kissing his gasping throat.

The strained cords there are too great a temptation not to appreciate.

As I settle between his legs, his chest and stomach heave against mine with each of his spent breaths.

I love him like this—completely wasted with pleasure.

He’s so soft and open during these moments.

It’s what I imagine he’d be like if he could ever free himself of the unnecessary weight he insists on carrying.

When I move my mouth to the place over his thumping heartbeat, I can’t resist any longer.

Scooting my hips closer, I drag my cock between his cheeks until it finds that warm opening.

His fingers tighten around mine where our hands are joined.

I find him gazing at me in confusion. Shit, he’s adorable.

He can leave any time. I’ve made sure he knows this. Even if he comes first and doesn’t want to witness me enjoying his body. I take my chances, though, giving his hands a squeeze as I press forward.

“No,” I confirm in front of his gaping mouth. “I’m not done with you yet, Charlie.”

I have to turn my head when he gasps before I’m too tempted to swallow it. His cage brushes against my abdomen as I seat myself deep inside him. When I groan, he groans with me. I hide my smile in his neck and take a hit of his scent, basking in the way his body hugs me.

Sliding my calves up underneath my thighs, I nudge his legs further apart. They move awkwardly at first, but then he lets them settle over the top of mine. Charlie, my brave Charlie.

I move then, unable to remain still in his body’s death grip on my cock any longer.

The little whimpering sounds he makes with each slow thrust have me feeling carnal.

I nibble his earlobe, suck on it, and pepper kisses on the side of his neck.

They’re all a preview of what I want to do to the mouth making those wonderful noises.