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“Making you fucking scream,” I taunt.
“I can’t—” he groans as he pushes back against my hand. “I can’t. This is so fucking gay, Alec. I’m not fucking gay.”
“Yeah, you say that,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “So let’s just call this another hobby, Jude. Being finger-fucked by me. Can you cope with that?”
He lets out a whimper and then arches back, letting me spear him over and over.
“Yeah. Yes.Yes!” He’s nearly shouting now, the bed rocking as he fists the sheets and fucks back against me. My name leaves his lips, and my heart stutters.
“Don’t say my name,” I hiss, but he’s too far gone to hear me. He only says it louder, so I stuff two fingers inside of him and work on scissoring him open. Pretending like my fingers are my cock, stretching him wide.
When his first orgasm hits, I feel immense pride that I made him come with a cock cage on. And I want to make him do it again.
And this time, for some perverse reason, I want to watch him. Don’t ask me why. I’m clearly not thinking with my head. I’m just thinking with my dick.
Sue me.
Just this once. One more time. And then never again.
I flip him onto his back, seeing the cum leaking from the cage, Jude’s eyes shut, his chest heaving.
“Oh my fuck,” he murmurs, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tries to collect himself.
“We’re not done yet,” I say as I lean over and search for some lube. A horny repressed guy like Jude surely has some somewhere. Luckily I’m right and there’s some in the bedsidedrawer. I pull it out and uncap it, pouring some onto my fingers as I push a leg into his chest once more.
“I can’t,” he murmurs. “It’s too much.”
“We’re just getting you real good at this hobby. Practice makes perfect,” I say as I push into him once more, making his hands fall to his sides and clutch at the sheets as I press against his prostate. He’s so sensitive there, so needy. I love it. Love that I’m showing him new things that will make him want to explore.
The thought of Jude going out to explore this with another man only makes something ugly rear its head, so I tamp it down and focus on the here and now. Jude can do whatever the fuck he wants. With whoever he wants.
I don’t own him.
I just own his ass in this moment.
There’s absolutely no reason I should lean forward and hover my face over his, that I should be this fucking close to him. But I do it anyways. And when his eyes open and his blue gaze meets mine, I feel the air rush out of me.
His hands grasp my biceps and then slide up to my neck, pulling me into him, my face stuffed against his neck. I can hear his frantic breathing as I continue to push into him. My cock is hard and pressed almost painfully against my jeans, but I don’t do anything about it. I don’t care about myself in this moment. I just want to make him come again. I want to hear him breathe his desperation into my ear as he does it. I want himbroken for me.
“Alec,” he gasps, and then I feel his body shake and tremble until he goes slack in my arms.
And I’m left to just hold him, his cum soaking the front of my pants. But he doesn’t try to push me off him, and I don’t move away either. For long minutes, we just stay like that until I finally remember what the fuck I’m actually doing and climb off him.
With shaking legs, I walk to the dresser and grab the key for the cage, gently helping him out of it. He breathes a sigh of relief finally being free, his soft cock soaked in cum. My mouth waters, and I wonder for a moment if I should lean down and clean him up, but I don’t. I refuse.
That’s not what this is about. The moment I saw him a few weeks ago, I knew what I had to do.
And this is not it.
I’ve swerved so far off the path that I need to hike through miles of woods to get back to it.
Fucking Christ.
“I’m gonna go,” I say, adjusting my hard dick in my pants. It hurts. It fucking aches.
If this was any other man, I’d get myself off with him, but tonight, I don’t feel like it. I just can’t. That was…it was too much.
“You can stay, if you want,” Jude croaks out, and I shake my head, reaching for the door.
