Chapter 21 #2
“Fucking run, Devon,” I growled over the sound of the porno, which I’d almost completely forgotten about.
There was a different triad on the screen this time, two of them spit-roasting the third.
Would Devon pound me like that while he watched me blow another guy?
I didn’t have any interest in anyone besides him, but the thought of him getting off on thrusting into me while another guy fucked my mouth—
The cage tightened once again.
I closed my eyes and breathed. I tried to think about something other than sex or Devon or pain or bliss.
The slapping and moaning and growled cursing weren’t helping. Neither was the relentless vibrating inside my ass. Or the way my nipples burned while a deeper ache glowed around them. Or the stupid, evil cage that wouldn’t let me get as hard as I needed to be.
Not a moment too soon, a key in the door whipped my attention away from everything else. I turned, forcing my eyes to stay open and focused, and…
Oh Jesus. Finally.
Devon was soaked to the skin. How much was rain and how much was sweat, I had no idea, but he was absolutely drenched. Drops of water clung to the spiky ends of his hair. More rolled down his face.
And his eyes…
Fucking hell. All this frustration and discomfort were worth it in that moment I saw the fire and approval in his eyes. When his lips curved… God, yes.
It was like that moment when, after I’d played through a fractured hand, a core muscle injury, and a hip that desperately needed surgery, my team had won the Cup.
All my injuries had been screaming as I’d hoisted that thirty-pound trophy over my head, but it had been worth it.
All the pain. All the sleepless nights. All the mornings my teammates had to help me out of bed. Worth it because we’d fucking won.
The last hour or so hadn’t been nearly as excruciating, but it had been its own torture, and it was worth it.
Because Devon was both pleased and horny as hell.
Watching me from across the room, he slid a hand down over his rain-soaked shorts. “Did you enjoy yourself?” From that wicked glint in his eyes, he knew the answer.
I had to clear my throat twice before I could finally rasp, “It was hell.”
His grin broadened as he toed off his running shoes. “That didn’t answer my question. Did you enjoy yourself, Jack?”
I wanted to say, “It was fucking awful.”
Or, “You’re an evil bastard.”
Or, “Please make it all stop, Sir.”
All of those things were true, but not as true as what came out:
“Yes, Sir. I did.”
He licked his lips. As he came closer, he peeled off his jacket. With the porno still filling the room with the primal sounds of three men getting each other off, he casually said, “I’m going to give you a choice, Jack.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“You aren’t going to answer me yet. I’m going to give you your choices, and then I’m going to go take a shower. When I come back, you can give me your answer. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” I croaked.
His nod and faint smile were the best thing ever.
He stepped closer and leaned down, brushing his cool lips across mine. “Choice number one—after I shower, I take off the cage, blow you, and swallow your cum.”
It took work to swallow. I couldn’t imagine what else he could offer that would bring me closer to sanity than that. Or anything hotter than coming in Devon’s mouth.
“Choice number two…” He trailed his fingertips down my cheek. “You let me decide what happens next.”
My heart flipped. That choice was both tantalizing and terrifying. I was curious what he could possibly have in mind, but also scared of what he might have up his sleeve. Of how long he could draw this out before he finally freed me from this almost.
His palm was chilly against my face as he leaned down for one more quick kiss. Then he stepped away and headed for the bathroom.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he told me. “Then you can tell me what you’ve decided.”
And with that, I was alone again, listening to the floor creak beneath his weight and the sound of one man nearing orgasm and another promising to come down his throat. The shower came on, the sound quickly drowned out by one of the men coming hard and loud.
I closed my eyes again. Devon was offering me everything I needed—friction, release, the ability to breathe.
But option number two…
Fuck. That was everything I needed. Eventual friction. Eventual release. Eventual breathing.
But also complete surrender. Complete trust in Devon to take me to whatever places he saw fit, inflicting as much pain and frustration as he desired, until he was good and ready to have mercy on me.
One option promised the relief I craved to my core.
The other…
I swore under my breath.
In the next room, the shower shut off. The floor creaked with Devon moving around.
On the screen, someone was getting fucked, the top’s hips slapping hard against well-reddened ass cheeks.
Blood pounded in my ears. The cock cage tightened yet again. The toy thrummed against my prostate. The clamps kept that burn and that ache alive and well.
As Devon’s footsteps came back down the hall, he was bringing either immediate relief or protracted torment.
And I knew without a doubt which choice I was going to make.