Page 63 of Naughty November

“Shhh,” I hushed him, my finger over his lips. “Do you trust me, button?”

He nodded, biting that lip again.

“Then don’t think. Just be good for me, now. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“Okay,” he whispered, cheeks flushed, thighs trembling and still spread wide, and a soft eagerness on his face that made me feel like I’d fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in the middle of a wet dream.

One that, if I was lucky, I’d never wake up from.

FOUR

HOLDEN

I almost felt like someone had drugged me, but not in the bad, scary way. No, this was more like what I imagined all those feel-good drugs people took at clubs must be like. The ones that were supposed to make everything feel like sex and magic.

I’d never tried them, but I couldn’t imagine the high being any better than having Fletcher—Fletcher Greene!—kneeling between my legs and asking me to be good for him.

I had no idea what that actually meant or what he expected me to do, but even if we hadn’t seen each other in years, Ididtrust him.

More than that, all of the “am I gay?” feelings I’d had back during puberty, when I really had trailed after him like a lost, horny little duckling, were back now in full force.

Being stuck in this cage with Cindy not returning my messages had been the most terrifying, humiliating thing ever. Not sexy at all. But now, even though Fletch said he wanted to leave it on for a while, I felt nothing but safe and warm.

No, not just warm. Hot.

The pressure and pinch of the metal was almost painful with mydick still trying so hard to get fully erect. Well, it was definitelya little painful, but... also not? Or at least, not a bad kind of pain.

I wasn’t sure if that made any sense, I just knew that I liked it if he liked it. Maybe because, even though it was something Cindy had put on me, now—because Fletcher was the one who’d decided to leave it on a little longer—the constriction felt like it washimholding me in a firm grip.

And that idea sent a thrill through me that I didn’t think I could ever have explained to anyone.

But I didn’t have to. Fletcher was the only other person who mattered right now, and he already seemed to understand.

And then, a moment later, I couldn’t even havetriedto explain, because he wrapped his big, firm hands around my inner thighs, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through me, spread my legs even wider, and leaned down to… tolick the cage.

My breath stuttered, the wet heat of his tongue searing through the bars and branding my sensitive flesh with a new awareness of what it meant to want.

“Oh, God,” I cried out, my balls throbbing and a hot, coiling desperation twisting my insides as my dick pulsed with frustrated excitement, straining against its bondage. “Please.”

Fletcher smiled up at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners and making my heart race. “Shhhh. Patience. We’ll get there.”

He dragged his tongue down over my balls, pushing my thighs up until I was exposed to him in a way I’d never been with anyone as he licked a hot stripe all the way to my asshole.

I gasped, then pushed on his head, squirming. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to get away from him or get more, but he couldn’t actually want to put his mouth there, right?

“Fletch!” I panted. “You can’t?—”

“Hush,” he groaned, holding me in place and nuzzling his face right into my ass, his hot breath sending liquid shocks of pleasure through me. “I can. You smell so fucking goodhere, baby. So needy. So fucking sweet. And you taste even better. Now are you going to let me be in charge, or are you telling me to stop?”

“I... I don’t want you to stop,” I admitted, biting my lip as the heat flared in my cheeks again. “I want to be good for you, like you said.”

It felt like that should be wrong to admit, but it felt so right to say it that I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Especially not when Fletcher’s eyes flared with the same heat that had made my stomach squirm for him earlier.

He liked it, and I liked—no, I loved doing what he liked.

And when he smiled at me, then kept his eyes locked onto mine as he licked my asshole again—a long, slow, wet drag of his tongue that set nerves I hadn’t even known I had on fire—I discovered that right or wrong, I also really, really loved the feel of his hot tongue doing dirty things to me.

“So fucking good,” he murmured, doing it again. Licking and sucking. Gently biting the delicate, puckered skin down there, and sending sparks of frustrated lust through me when the stubble on his cheeks rasped against my inner cheeks.