Page 69 of Watched

Dirty Talk. Orgasm Control.

Then, one that I’m not surprised by but has my interest buzzing.

Sex in public.

Having taken mental note of everything he’s searched, I turn the phone off and take what I bought in LA out of my jacket pocket. Heading back downstairs, I unfold the navy blanket laid neatly over the back of the sofa and lay it over him. Pushing him forward, I slide myself in behind him.

His chest pumps harder, cheeks already crimson from his little research frenzy. He tugs the blanket up to his chest, his body shuddering as I slide my hand over his shirt to pull it up a little, tracing the divots in his tensed abs. I continue trailing the lines of his stomach for the next fifteen minutes to the movie’s end.

“Bedtime, munchkins,” I announce.

“What?” Indie groans. “It’s not that late.”

“11 PM is late enough.”

They look to Rome.

“Bed,” he orders hoarsely, a thin layer of sweat beading his hairline and cheeks.

They groan and trudge upstairs. Once I hear the door shut, I press my mouth to his ear. “Come upstairs.”

Chapter twenty-seven

ROME

Does he want to fuck? Right now? Is that what we’re about to do?

Breathe, Rome.

I draw a deep breath and blow it out when we reach the bedroom. Rain closes the door softly and locks it.

My thumbs immediately find the underside of my fingers, trying to rub away the nerves. He guides me to sit on the end of the bed, his intoxicating scent surrounding me as he steps between my legs and slides his hand into his pocket. I gulp when he pulls out the rubber object.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks softly, running his fingers through my hair.

Waves of heat pulse down my body. “A—a cock ring.”

“Ever used one?” My thumbs pick up their pace on my lap as I shake my head. “Good,” he whispers. My breath catches, and I look to the locked door. “Baby.” He crooks his finger under my chin to lift my head. “Breathe. We aren’t fucking.” My chest caves with a relieved sigh, and he smiles, twisting the rubber in his fingers. “You haven’t experimented much with sex, have you?”

Trapping my tongue between my teeth, I shake my head. Sure, I jerk off, but that’s all I’ve ever done to myself. Connor sucked me off, and we fucked, but objects were never involved.

“How many people have you fucked?” he asks.

I arch a brow. “How many people have you shagged?”

“Not as many as whatever number you’re thinking.” I narrow my eyes. “Answer the question, Rome.”

“Only Connor.”

I smile at the way his jaw pulses with jealousy. Taking lube from his pocket, he nods to his pants. “Take them off.”

I had his dick in my mouth this morning, so why am I so nervous, I want to vomit?

Swallowing down the nausea, I hook my fingers in his waistband, pulling down his pants and underwear. His thick cock springs free from its confines, and I stare at the bead of pre-cum weeping from him, my mouth watering as I pull the material down to his ankles.

“Stand,” he commands.

I raise my eyes to his and stand. Placing the objects in my hand, his fingers caress my waist, and I release a groan against his parted lips.