Page 89 of Chasing After You

I writhed as much as I could, overwhelmed by the intensity.

“Come,” he ordered.

And like my body had been waiting for those words, waiting for his permission, my cock pulsed and erupted, covering the wall with the evidence of my pleasure.

Dorian followed suit soon after, hips stuttering as he painted my insides.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he panted, slowly sliding his spent cock from my hole. I whimpered at the emptiness. “Shh, I know. That’s why I have this ready for you.”

A plug slid into me, quickly popping into place.

“There. Now just one other thing,” he murmured. My fucked-out mind couldn’t care less what he was talking about.

He walked to my side, reaching for my softened dick. I lazily glanced down, catching something in his hand, but not clocking what it was until he scooped me into it and locked it on.

I stared down at the contraption in bewilderment.

A cock cage.

Was I hallucinating?

I was so focused on the sight of my dick in its little prison that the first click of the cuff unlocking startled me. My arms were heavy, tingling as they slowly dropped. Dorian caught them without a word, holding them in his hands like something fragile.

“Easy,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

The second cuff came loose, then the third, then the fourth, and suddenly I wasn’t bound anymore, but I wasn’t standing either. My knees folded, and Dorian was already there, lowering me gently onto the floor with him. My head lolled onto his shoulder before I even thought about it. I felt soft. Pliable. Like every muscle in me had gone quiet.

He undid my gag, tossing it aside without letting go of me. His hands smoothed over my arms, my chest, checking for anything too tender or wrong. They lingered at my ass, warm over skin that still glowed from the flogger.

“You did so well,” he whispered, lips against my temple. “God, Josh. I wish you could’ve seen how beautiful you looked. And now you’re going to keep my cum all safe and sound the rest of the day.”

I blinked up at him, my voice hoarse. “Why is my dick in jail?”

He laughed, his body shaking from it. “I want it locked up today. It’s best to put it on when you’re soft, so I did. I may or may not take it off tonight. We’ll see.”

I let out an exhausted groan. “What if it cuts off my circulation?

“It won’t.”

He cradled me then, shifting me more fully into his lap, and wrapped a blanket around both of us that I didn’t even notice him grab. It smelled like him and the tiniest hint of soap.

“Is your head okay?” he asked, voice low.

“Floaty,” I admitted. “But not in a bad way. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this calm. I mean, you just put my penis in a cage, and I’m not fighting you on it. I think that speaks for itself.”

Dorian’s arms tightened as he rested his chin on top of my head and chuckled fondly.

We sat like that for a while. Maybe minutes. Maybe more. At some point, he started stroking my hair, the gesture featherlight and tender in a way that made something deep in my chest ache.

“I loved it,” I murmured eventually. “More than I expected.”

“Perfect.”

And that is how I ended up in the passenger seat of his car, cock in a cage, a plug holding his cum in my ass, and a bag of gummy worms on my lap.

22

Dorian