Page 49 of Caged By the Stranger
The bottom of his ass touches down on the top of my thighs. His constricted balls, so ripe and full, settle on my navel. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath at the heat and pressure of him encasing me. I need a moment or three for a sensation like this.
I can feel the puffs of breath venting over me and wonder if he’s looking, if he’s curious to see us joined in this position. I knead his thigh and let loose one little groan. It’s always a constant struggle to hold back. If I didn’t, I know it would be too much for him. He’s not ready to learn just how much I want him.Maybe he never will be, but for now, I’m content with keeping my full desire locked away.
Whatever he feels or sees is enough to get him over his anxiety about changing things up. He moves, just in fragments at first, riding me in tiny undulations. I can’tnotwatch, so I open my eyes, but keep them focused on where we’re joined. I know my Charlie is too shy to have a witness to the passion on his face. It’s what did me in the first time I saw this sexy, confident-looking man at that convention last year, quietly checking other men out. I’d decided to make the rounds to a few conventions, covertly observing the company’s top performers, and was already curious about tracking him down. It’s funny now that I was always intrigued by how articulate his emails were that I’d been cc’d on over the years, and the way he adds the salutation, ‘Respectfully yours,’ at the end of each of them. As soon as I caught him quietly ogling that gaggle of attractive convention goers, however, what looked good on paper became ten times better in reality. That blush on his cheeks and the flicker of his pulse in his neck when I spoke to him made me want to whisk him away and cover his mouth with mine. I wasn’t sure if he’d even show up at my club, to be honest.
When Silas, the club’s security guard, called to let me know, I was pleasantly surprised. I waited, though. I waited, and I watched, curious about how my employee would find his experience at Illusion. I never review video footage from the club anymore. I have a manager and security people for that, but I couldn’t help myself. Once I saw what I saw, I was doomed. A prisoner to everything that is Charlie North.
From his anxiousness, his wholesome reactions, and even the bewildered little smiles he made after each of his visits—how his serious façade would return and he’d button himself up—I couldn’t stand not experiencing that from the other side of the panel. Before I even dropped to my knees that first night, I thinkI knew I was going to be a goner. Once I did, well, it just became nothing short of an obsession.
God, he was so beautiful. If I’d seen who it was that worked for me all these years, I’d never have gotten anything done.
His hips raise up higher this time, and then drop back down. The sound he makes is another song of discovery that has me preening. He’s such a maddening contradiction—all gruff denial and bottled-up passion. Fuck, I love being responsible for making him feel good.
He rocks again and then again, spanking my pelvis with the bottom of his. One hand is still gripping my headboard, and he drops the other in a fist to my pillow and groans. How I wish he weren’t afraid to touch me. At least, he seems to be over his hesitancy about riding my cock, thrusting back down again with more vigor. It creates a balloon of delicious pressure in my abdomen and balls. I’m so glad I jerked off before he came over, or I’d be disappointing him right now. I want him to enjoy this to the fullest, and I’m grateful I was right about his anticipated visit tonight.
“Yess,” I hiss. “Just like that.”
It’s taking everything in me to keep my gaze averted from his. I do the only other thing I can, snaking my hands up his torso and chest, mapping the feel of his skin. The way his stomach flexes under my touch is a heady connection to his movements. Reaching back up, I stroke my fingertip around one of his nipples. He lets out a strangled sound and tenses. Not just his body, but his channel. It grips me tight, a telling sign.
I do glance up now, unable to miss witnessing this moment. With his neck arched back and his mouth open, he moans, coming through his cage and onto my stomach. If he were a dessert, I’d eat him alive right now. I swear.
Sitting up, I reach underneath his shoulders and grip him. Flipping him down to the mattress on his back, I trail my handsup his arms and weave his fingers into mine. Drawing my hips back, I tug my cock from his greedy pulses and instead focus on kissing his gasping throat. The strained cords there are too great a temptation not to appreciate. As I settle between his legs, his chest and stomach heave against mine with each of his spent breaths. I love him like this—completely wasted with pleasure. He’s so soft and open during these moments. It’s what I imagine he’d be like if he could ever free himself of the unnecessary weight he insists on carrying.
When I move my mouth to the place over his thumping heartbeat, I can’t resist any longer. Scooting my hips closer, I drag my cock between his cheeks until it finds that warm opening. His fingers tighten around mine where our hands are joined. I find him gazing at me in confusion. Shit, he’s adorable.
He can leave any time. I’ve made sure he knows this. Even if he comes first and doesn’t want to witness me enjoying his body. I take my chances, though, giving his hands a squeeze as I press forward.
“No,” I confirm in front of his gaping mouth. “I’m not done with you yet, Charlie.”
I have to turn my head when he gasps before I’m too tempted to swallow it. His cage brushes against my abdomen as I seat myself deep inside him. When I groan, he groans with me. I hide my smile in his neck and take a hit of his scent, basking in the way his body hugs me.
Sliding my calves up underneath my thighs, I nudge his legs further apart. They move awkwardly at first, but then he lets them settle over the top of mine. Charlie, my brave Charlie.
I move then, unable to remain still in his body’s death grip on my cock any longer. The little whimpering sounds he makes with each slow thrust have me feeling carnal. I nibble his earlobe, suck on it, and pepper kisses on the side of his neck. They’reall a preview of what I want to do to the mouth making those wonderful noises.
His hips start moving, rocking up into mine. His chest undulates against my own as though he wants more skin-to-skin contact. He’s going positively rabid beneath me, his head thrashing from side to side. When I feel his legs rise and his feet lock around the back of my waist, I have to bite my lip to keep from cursing.
“Rory… Uhn, s-so good.”
Hearing him moan my name when he’s all but wrapped around me is the last straw. I find his mouth and silence his praises with my lips. He goes rigid beneath me, but I need a taste before he decides to stop.
“God damn it, Charlie,” I pant, staring down into his big blue eyes. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard. I’m sorry.”
Licking the seam of his lips, they open to me. I groan the second I feel the silk of his mouth and his tongue against mine. He whimpers, and it’s like a rubber band gave way, with all the tension draining from his body. Someone, please save me—Charlie has become a puddle beneath me.
His hands slip from mine and grip the back of my shoulders. The paralysis in his mouth subsides, and he starts kissing me back. I dig my fingers into his hair and grip a handful of it.
Yes... He’s everywhere, cocooning me in my favorite thing—him. I feast on his mouth and pound into him, ravenous. Not a single one of his noises reaches the air. I swallow them all as I fuck them out of him, like I’m racking up points in a video game.
Like all good things, though, it ends too soon. I have to tear my mouth away to breathe as I come. Staring down at him while I groan, I watch the wonder in his expression as he watches me. I want to kiss that look right off his face and tell him he can watch this any time he wants to. He’s just like Jeremy, so much that it breaks my heart.
Collapsing on top of him, I lie in the silence, trying to catch my breath. As I rest here against Charlie’s warm body, I wonder if I have a thing for sheltered cases. Maybe I have for years. Even before Jeremy took his life when we were teens, I always looked out for guys who were ashamed of their sexuality. I was never ashamed, and I wanted them to know the freedom I felt. I wanted my friend to know he didn’t have to pretend to be straight just because society wasn’t as accepting back then. Look at me—I did all right, being who I am. Jeremy never got to know that. I just hope to hell Charlie figures it out too, even if it’s not with me.
Rolling to my side to take my weight off him, I know the second I glance over at him that it’s a lie. I really want it to be with me. He’s not some charity case, or some closeted gay man I feel I have to save. He’s just…who I want. I’ve seen glimpses of his humor. I’ve seen the way he carries himself around his peers. I’m in awe of his work ethic and his mind. I love his grit, even if I do like that it crumbles when he’s around me. Being in awe of the rest of him, though, was just a pleasant surprise.
I stare, waiting for him to open his eyes, but he doesn’t. Not that I’m looking forward to finding out if he’ll up and leave like his ass is on fire as usual, but I expect it. Except this time, his breathing evens out. One arm at his side, the other lounging near his head on the pillow, his lips part with a stream of breath. He’s…sleeping.
I smile with a puff of laughter. Now that’s a delightful sight. Brushing my thumb along his jaw, I whisper, “Charlie…you’re not going to run out on me tonight?”
