Chapter Thirty Euan
I arrive home long before Alex. I can claim it’s because my time ran out in the library’s private rooms, or that my current projects are waiting for someone else to complete their part—all true—but really, I just want to see him again as soon as possible.
To spend all our spare time together before I leave.
Video calls and court dates won’t be the same as the strange little pseudo-married atmosphere we’ve created in this apartment.
Since I have time, I start making dinner. Nothing as fancy as he made yesterday—just roast chicken with vegetables—but hopefully something he’ll enjoy.
About fifteen minutes before it’s done, the door opens. “Dinner’s almost ready,” I say from where I’m setting the table. “I hope you don’t mind that I—” I pause as I finally look up at Alex.
He leans against the doorframe, face pale, lips drawn tight.
The silverware clatters against the table as I abandon it, rushing to Alex’s side. “Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” I grab his shoulders, holding him steady as I scan his face, trying to understand his signs of distress.
“It turns out,” he begins, words clipped and breathy, “that walking up two flights of stairs while wearing a butt plug is not a sexy experience.”
“While wearing a—” I stop as the words really register.
He’s got a toy inside him right now, and it’s at the least uncomfortable, if not outright painful.
The rational part of me is concerned that he might have pushed himself too far or even torn something.
The other part of me can’t help thinking about the secrets hidden under his work clothes.
The tight pink hole obscenely stretched around the thick, black toy.
My grip on his shoulders loosens. I run one hand along his arm, a soothing caress, while the other trails down his back. Alex shudders, and the tightness in his muscles takes on a different feel. “How long have you had it in for?” I ask, my lips brushing his ear.
“I put it in at work,” he admits.
“Really?” I take my sweet time stroking his back, up and down his spine, the tips of my fingers barely brushing the swell of his ass.
He squirms, and a small, cut-off noise spills from his lips.
“Did you like your first taste of public exhibitionism?” I can feel the heat of his flush against my skin.
The short, panting breaths against my neck.
“Did it excite you to think people might find out about your naughty little secret?”
“N-not really.”
I trace his crease through his clothes until I bump up against the base of the plug. Alex inhales sharply and clutches my T-shirt, seeking something steady to hold on to. “No? How did it make you feel?” I circle the toy with one finger, making it shift inside him.
Alex presses his head against my shoulder. His hips shift, rubbing the hard length of his growing erection against my thigh. It takes him a few seconds to answer. “Nervous.”
I hum, considering. We talked briefly about attending some kink classes together. Would the crowd make him too nervous to enjoy anything? “Just nervous? Anything else?”
“Strange.”
“Strange because you could feel people watching you?” I tap the base of the plug once, hard enough to press it against his prostate. “Or because of the long, thick toy in your ass?”
A whimper escapes him before he bites down on it.
He rocks back into my hand, then forward hard against my thigh, caught between the pressure against his prostate and the friction against his cock.
Then he turns and rasps in my ear, “Not as thick as you.” His palm presses firmly against the front of my jeans, measuring the outline of my own eager cock.
“Is that why you used the toy at work?” I nip his earlobe, just sharp enough to earn another delicious whimper. “Not because you wanted everyone’s eyes on you. Because you couldn’t wait to feel me inside you.”
“So why”—he barely gets the words out between broken breaths—“am I still waiting?”
The last remnants of my control snap at the cheeky words.
I bend down and wrap my arms behind Alex’s knees, scooping him up over my shoulder in one swift move.
His surprised yelp turns into a laugh as I carry him back to my bedroom.
He’s not a small man—average height, slim, but with enough heft to him to make carrying him the illogical choice—but all I can think about is getting him into bed and stripped naked as soon as possible. I’ll worry about sore muscles later.
Alex gasps when I drop him onto the bed, lips parted and eyes wide. The movement probably jostled the toy inside. He squirms on the mattress, still chasing his own pleasure, and palms the bulge in his pants.
“None of that,” I chide, grabbing his wrist and holding it up and away from his straining erection. I press my lips to his cheek and whisper, “You only get to come once I’m inside you.”
The words are a test, to see if that’s the kind of mood he’s in—if he wants me to take control of this scene and his pleasure. The long, deep moan pouring from his mouth sounds like a yes.
“But as you said, I’m a lot thicker than this toy.” I brush my fingers up his leg, from his knee to his groin, almost to his cock before changing direction and tapping against the base of the plug again. “We still have more to do to prepare you for me.”
“Euan!” My name is both plea and protest, begging for everything I’m about to give him but not wanting to wait for it.
“You remember your safe words?” I ask, pulling away from him.
Alex blinks blearily at me, then nods.
“Say them.”
He purses his lips, then says in a rush, “Red, yellow, fuck me harder.”
I grin and kiss him on the lips, slipping my tongue inside to taste the last three words.
He grabs my shirt again and starts to drag me down on the bed, but we’re not ready for that yet.
I pull away, then give him one last kiss on his pouting lips.
“I’m going to grab some things. While I do that, strip.
I want to see you completely naked except for the plug. ”
The command sends a shiver through him and he nods, biting his lip. Then he scrambles to his feet, his hands trembling as they go for his belt.
After cleaning up yesterday’s scene, I brought the bag of supplies into my room.
That means they’re in easy reach now. I grab both cuffs and the biggest vibrator.
Also inside the bag is something I didn’t end up using yesterday: a little black blindfold.
It has structured curves for the nose and eyes and covers more space than the average sleep mask.
During the power outage, when we continued to explore each other in the dark, Alex seemed even more sensitive and eager. Melting into every touch. Only capable of gasping and moaning in need. I want him to completely fall apart again, but more importantly, I want to see it.
I turn around to find Alex sitting naked on the bed, leaning against the headboard, knees bent toward his chest. When I tilt my head, I spy the black base of the plug, still snug inside him.
One by one, I lay the items on the bed, giving Alex a chance to protest and use his safe word. He avidly watches it all come together, teeth firmly lodged in his lower lip, turning it a plush red. His blown wide pupils have almost eclipsed his blue eyes.
“I hate to cover those beautiful eyes, but I think you’ll enjoy this.” I pick the blindfold back up and approach him slowly. I gesture for him to lower his head and he quickly complies, allowing me to secure the blindfold over his eyes.
“Fuck, that’s darker than I expected.” He raises his hand to his face, testing the edges where the material molds to his cheek.
I give him a few seconds to adjust before leaning forward and whispering in his ear, “Don’t take it off.”
Alex’s breath catches and he immediately drops his hands to his lap.
I stand up straighter and admire him for a moment.
The black cloth stands out starkly against his pale skin.
Although I can’t see his eyes, the way it divides his face draws attention to his blond curls and reddened lips.
I reach out and tangle my fingers in those curls, disrupting the tidy style he’d tamed them into for work.
The sudden touch startles him and he jerks away.
After a second, he relaxes, and leans into the touch, nuzzling against my palm.
When I draw my hand away, he follows it, then makes a noise of protest when he can’t find me.
“Lie down on your stomach.”
He tries to plant his hand on the mattress but misses, waving his hand through the empty space next to the bed. “Shit.” He snatches his hand back, holding it protectively to his chest. “Don’t let me roll right off the bed.”
“Don’t worry, I’m right here.” I place both hands on his shoulders and slowly turn him the other way, allowing him to take over once he’s more confident.
Alex settles onto his stomach but doesn’t seem to know what to do with his arms. At first he bends them, hands by his chest. Then he straightens one out by his side and curves the other above his head.
I let him fidget for a moment, knowing a little too well how suddenly he can move.
Once he relaxes, I pick up one of the cuffs and place it around his left wrist. He tenses again but allows me to carefully raise his arm up to the headboard and secure the cuff on the far end.
I trace a line from Alex’s wrist, taking my time to trail my fingertips over his arm until I reach his back, then start connecting the dots between his freckles.
His muscles twitch under the too-light touch.
When I reach his spine, I lift my hand completely away from him.
Instead of relaxing, he tenses with anticipation, waiting to see where I’ll touch him next.
I pick up the other cuff and walk around to the right side of the bed. Alex’s head swivels around as he follows the sounds of my movement. Before I even ask, he stretches his right arm out, offering it to me.