Page 82 of Watched

“You’re a prick!”

He lifts the material, only exposing my mouth and nose, then tightens it again below my eyes.

I glare at the fabric. “Get off me.” His hand disappears, and weight settles on my groin, hot, minty breath flowing over my snarling lips. “You drugged me.”

“It’s a mild sedative,” he whispers humorously. “It won’t harm you, and it won’t show up in a drug test.”

I thrash beneath him. “Where’s Indie and Kilah?”

His nose grazes mine, and my heart skips. “Asleep in their beds.”

“Th-that wasn’t you who came into my room.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Who was it?”

“Blade.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “He owed me a favour.”

“You sent your brother in to kidnap me? The same one who wanted to kill me a few weeks ago?”

“Okay, yeah, not my finest move, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Where are we?”

He stays silent, and his face disappears from mine, his groin still weighing heavily against me. I gasp quietly when his bare skin presses to my chest, the warmth annoyingly comforting and something I’ve sought far too much recently.

“I said I wanted spa—”

I’m cut off by his lips claiming mine. His tongue slides into my mouth, making my dick twinge against his own, hard and ready. He groans, wrapping his hand around my throat and confiscating my air.

The cool breeze flows over my heated face as he pulls away.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he teases. I stop mid-thrust, realising I’ve been rubbing myself against him. The lustful heat is replaced by potent embarrassment. His fingers curl further around my neck, making me jerk in search of air. “I asked you a fucking question.”

“Ye-yes.” His body heat and weight disappear, and I turn my head toward the open boot door. “Can people see us?”

“You like that they could, don’t you?”

Shame rears its head, and I pant harder. “My tattoos. Rain, someone could—” I cut myself off when warm fabric lays across my chest to cover the identifying ink.

I flinch when rough fabric grazes the sides of my chest, a hand wrapping around my nape to lift my head.

“Suck,” he commands.

Nerves claw at my aching chest at the faint smell of his arousal. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Open your fucking mouth, or I’ll do it for you.”

I part my lips, and he guides the tip to coat them with his pre-cum, before slowly thrusting himself forward, forcing me to open wider.

Veins flow over my tongue as I wrap my stretched lips around him.

“Suck,” he demands. Instinctively, I hollow my cheeks and begin sucking. “Fuck yes, baby. Well done.”

A traitorous moan works its way up my throat as I continue sucking harder until my lungs burn, and I’m forced to push against his hand in search of air.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “I’m not deep enough that you can’t breathe.”