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“Because it’s fun,” he tells me, and I can hear the amusement in his voice.
“Bastard,” I mutter, which only prompts him to let out a soft chuckle.
The next thing I know, something is pushing inside of me. Something with a familiar texture and girth, but definitely not the dick I desperately want. It has to be the butt plug.
“Okay, there you go. All set,” Alastor says, giving my arse a gentle squeeze once the plug is in position.
“What do you mean ‘all set’? All set for what?”
“For the day,” he says simply.
I whip back around, eyeing him incredulously. “What?” “There are rules to this game, Macey,” he tells me, his
voice stern. “The plug stays in until I take it out tonight.” My mouth falls open. “That’ll be like...ten hours. Is
that even safe?”
He waves away my concern. “It’ll be fine. The other
rule is—you’re not allowed wank today. You don’t get to come until I let you tonight.”
Fuck. I’ve barely been able to go a day without a solo session since we started this whole crazy endeavour, and now not only do I have to last a whole day, but a day with constant prostate stimulation? Bloody hell, I’m going to die.
“There’ll be consequences if you break the rules,” Alastor warns, flashing me a look that tells me he’s defi- nitely hoping I crack.
If only to thwart Alastor’s plan, I resign myself to a day of frustration, determined not to give in to the temptation. “I won’t break the rule.”
He just smirks at me. “We’ll see.”
OF COURSE, not giving in is much easier said than done. Especially considering the sneaky bastard kept a little trick up his sleeve that he decided not to warn me about.
It’s awkward enough trying to eat lunch with my mother and grandmother while trying to ignore the butt plug brushing against my prostate, but when that butt plug suddenly startsvibrating?
“Jack, you okay?” Bà asks me when I suddenly jerk in my chair, her expression full of concern.
“Fine,” I squeak out, trying my best to ignore the intoxicating pleasure in my arse, my raging stiffy and the way my vision is starting to blur from all the overwhelming sensations.
“You don’t look well,” Mum says, frowning at me. “Were you out late last night?”
I sigh. Of course that’s Mum’s go-to assumption. Admittedly I didn’t get to sleep until late, but that’s not what she’s insinuating here.
“No. I’m fine,” I say again, relief rushing through me as the plug finally stops vibrating.
“Jack a good boy,” Bà says, smiling fondly at me as she pats my hand. “He behave himself.”
I flash her an affectionate smile in return. Bà’s English is exceptional considering she was in her twenties when she moved here and is basically self-taught. She’s never quite grasped prepositions, but I feel like her mental dictionary of Aussie slang more than makes up for that.
Mum rolls her eyes at Bà’s words. “You have rose- coloured glasses where he’s concerned.”
“How’s everything going at Gardenview?” I ask Ba, referencing her retirement home. I want to steer the topic as far away from me as possible. Not only because it’s not remotely fun listening to Mum vent her frustration with me right in front of me, but I don’t want to cause yet another argument between her and Ba.
“Crikey, there a big mess with bingo,” she informs me, leaning over our meals as though she’s sharing state secrets. She launches into her story about a bingo dispute that’s led to the games being suspended indefinitely.
I listen indulgently, smiling at her animated hand gestures.
Once we’re done with lunch, I head up to the counter to pay. My phone goes off in my pocket and I tug it out to see a text.
Alastor King:Have you broken yet?
