Page 63 of Obey

Knives shrugs. “If I’m going to fuck you, I have to prep you.”

“Prepping me isn’t the same as edging me,” I point out.

He sits up, taking his warmth with him, and reaches for the plastic bag sitting on the floor next to the bed. He pulls out a small bottle of lube. I scrunch up my nose when I see the brand, and Knives laughs. “Yeah, I know. They didn’t have anything else at the store though. You think they carry the expensive lubes out here?”

“I’m sure you got side-eyed just for buying it.” I pause, and I have to swallow around the lump in my throat when I ask carefully, “Did you get condoms?”

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to fuck me. Maybe he wasn’t able to get condoms. I assume a small town like this has to have them—it’s not like they aren’t fucking around either—but maybe they didn’t have his size.

Knives reaches into the bag and pulls out a box of extra large condoms. “I definitely got side-eyed. One of the men there told me to stay away from his daughter.”

I snort at that, though I half wish he hadn’t been able to find any, so his only choice would be to take me raw. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse that he thought you’re some kind of womanizer,” I remark.

“Considering he also added a few choice racist remarks…” Knives slides his sweats down.

“Fuck them,” I mutter, but I’m distracted by him pulling his boxers down too, revealing the cock that definitely requires those extra-large condoms. “Or really, fuck me.” I make the joke a little cautiously, not sure of where his mood will be.

“Maybe,” Knives teases. He kneels between my legs and pushes my thighs up. I grunt and try to remove the sweats, but he swats my hand away.

“Leave it,” he growls as he pulls the fabric tight, like makeshift bondage. “Your legs don’t go wider than this. Your hole isn’t open to the public anymore.”

I don’t like the jab. “Nayeem,” I say, letting a touch of warning seep into my voice. “I’m not some used-up whore, all right? And your cock isn’t open to the public anymore, either, or I’ll fucking cut it off.”

Am I allowed to be that possessive now? Have things changed that much?

Knives stops and meets my gaze, looking apologetic. “Sorry. That was… I was trying for sexy. Dominant.”

It’s my turn to look apologetic, and I wince. “Sorry. Just… sensitive, I guess.” Before I can start to beat myself up over it, he grips my cock, and I groan. “Fuck. All right. You own this hole, and this cock,” I prompt him.

Knives pushes my legs up farther, and it’s fucking awkward while still wearing the sweats, but they do keep me from spreading wide. “Keep those there,” he says, dripping some of the low-quality lube onto my hole.

It’s cold in comparison to how heated my body feels, and Knives doesn’t give me any time to adjust before he thrusts one of his thick fingers inside. I moan loudly to encourage him, and get a swat on the inside of my thigh in response.

“Shh. You don’t want the whole town to hear what we’re doing.”

“They can fuck right off,” I mutter, but I do quiet down even though I don’t fucking want to. I’m tired of trying to be silent when we fuck. “I can’t wait until we can both be as loud as we want.”

I don’t think we ever have.

Either we were young and trying to hide what we were doing from the gang, or it had been hate-fucking in closets or quickies where no one could hear us.

“Just watch. It’ll turn out you’ve got a kink for closets.” Knives adds a second finger before he starts massaging my insides, seeking out my prostate.

I groan and tremble, remembering his order to hold still. It’s hard to keep a conversation going when he’s distracting me like this.

Especially once he wraps his other hand around my cock, and he’s pumping me from both sides.

I close my eyes, throwing my head back. It feels so fucking good, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to last very long. “Doubt… Doubt that,” I mumble. It had never really felt hot when there had been so much at stake. “Fuck.”

“There have to be a few we haven’t tried in Silvano’s manor,” Knives says with amusement. “His bedroom closet, for one.” I start to laugh, but he tightens his hand around my cock at the same time he drills his fingers against my prostate.

Keeping my legs out of the way is causing me strain and making my shoulder twinge, but I’m not complaining. The pleasure is too good, and I should warn Knives that I’m about to come.

He pulls his fingers out and pinches the base of my cock before I can. “Did I say you could come yet?”

Shit.

I’m torn between thinking it’s hot and wanting to complain that he got in the way of my orgasm for the second time. “No,” I say, “but unless you’re planning on fucking me senseless…”

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