Page 65 of Obey

Knives laughs and runs his free hand through his hair. “You want to suck on the cock I just smeared your cum all over? Yeah, okay.” He scoots closer, careful of my wounded shoulder, and rubs the tip of his cock across my lips.

I don’t even care that I can taste myself on his cock. All I care about is taking him into my mouth as I lean forward. It’s sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t seem to give a fuck. I take more and more of him, until I’m gagging, and I grab his ass to pull him closer before he can get it in his thick skull to try to pull back.

He must have been edging himself as much as me, because it doesn’t take long for him to spill inside my mouth. I suck and swallow, desperate to get as much of him as I can.

After a while, I notice that he’s stroking my hair.

“Enough, Mads. My cock can’t take more,” he says gently.

I’d argue, but my post-orgasmic bliss has turned to exhaustion, and I reluctantly pull off of him. I lean into his touch, then I let out a breathless laugh because he called me Mads. I’ve never been more grateful to hear that nickname in my life.

He gets off the bed, and my heart tightens. My eyes prickle, the endorphins threatening to leave my body instantly.

But Knives is only getting a towel from the en-suite, and he comes back to clean us both up. He’s as gentle as he’s been these last few days, taking care of me and ensuring I can heal properly.

“Let’s not tell Sheryl about this rigorous bit of exercise,” Knives mumbles as he peers at my wound.

“My lips are sealed.” I snort. “Unless you want to fuck my mouth, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Knives mimics. He sets the towel aside and pulls the light sheet over us, never mind how hot and humid the room is.

I nestle closely against him anyway.

“When things are… settled, we can revisit the condom thing,” Knives mutters. “But it isn’t safe.”

I tense, wanting to protest that I haven’t been carelessly sleeping around.

“For you, I mean,” Knives says before I can. “Prison… well, they don’t hand out condoms with our meals. And I’ve been reckless.”

I don’t like the idea of Knives being reckless with other men in prison, but it’s not like I expected him to be celibate. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell him. “When we’re home.”

He nods. “Yeah. Home.”

Maybe there is something to look forward to after all.

SIXTEEN

KNIVES

I didn’t expect much from a small town bar, but being the only place to serve liquor must mean they do decent business. The interior is outdated but clean, and the ambiance is decent.

Jim is quick to show us to a large table with a “reserved” sign on it. There are three men already sitting there. One of them looks similar to Jim, except a little heavier and with less hair.

“Here we go!” Jim says proudly. “Pete—that’s the owner—did us a solid and made sure we’d have a place. It gets busy on Friday nights.”

I share a look with Maddox. It’s busy, sure, but we’ve seen a lot more people packed into smaller spaces both in New Bristol and even in New Valence.

“Thanks,” I say to Jim, taking the empty seat up against the wall. Maddox sits down next to me. “Nice to meet you all. I’m Nayeem, this is Maddox.”

I’d wanted to turn down the invitation, but Jim and Rebecca have been nothing but kind to us, and I could tell Maddox was itching to get out of the room anyway. Besides, we aren’t going to get anything done hiding away forever.

The three men give their own greetings. The youngest of them looks at us with a strange expression on his face, and I hope it’s not going to lead to trouble.

“This is my brother Charlie,” Jim says, pointing to the man with the strong family resemblance. “That’s Hank, my nephew—from my sister. Charlie’s only got daughters.”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “And they’re all damn fine women. You wish your kid were as great as mine.”

For some reason, Jim tenses up, but he moves on to the last man. “And here’s Gabe. He’s one of my fishing buddies. He’d’ve been there when I found you, except his wife got on his case about spending time with the family or some horseshit.”

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