Page 78 of Obey

“Didn’t I tell you not to fucking move?” I say, although I’m having a hard time suppressing a smile.

“Didn’t I tell you to fucking make me?” he retorts. He spreads his legs, though, his hand going to his hard cock and slowly stroking it. It’s a blatant dare, an invitation, and it’s all I can do to remember to grab a condom out of the box before stalking over to him.

I grab his wrist and squeeze it tightly. It’s his injured arm, so I only pin it to the bed beside him instead of yanking it up.

He grunts, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans a little away so the pain must be sharper.

“You’re coming with my cock inside you or not at all,” I tell him.

“Then you better get inside of me right the fuck now,” he says, lifting up his ass.

I want to give in and simply slide into him, no lube or condom, but I’m too responsible to do that to him. I won’t risk something going wrong in a way neither of us want, and maybe he enjoys going lubeless, but I’m tired of the extreme friction nearly skinning my cock.

I fumble for the lube and start to unwrap the condom. Apparently I’m taking too long, because Maddox starts to get up again.

I make a disgruntled noise and drop the condom and lube onto the bed. I get on top of him, laying my arm flat across his chest to force him onto his back once more. “You’re really testing my patience, Mads. Stay fucking still or I’ll have to do something drastic.”

Maddox laughs. “Yeah?” He smirks. “And what are you gonna do, Nayeem?” he challenges me.

I don’t remember him being this desperate to be put in his place before, but it seems like he’s gone and become more than just a masochist.

“I’ll make you obey,” I growl at him.

His eyes flutter half-shut, and I’m not sure if it’s the words themselves or my tone that he’s responding so strongly to. “Make me, huh?” Despite the words, his voice is starting to take on a slurred edge.

I look around the room for something I can use. I end up unlooping the belt from my jeans.

“Give me your hands,” I say, extending my hand to him.

He lets out a sound somewhere between a hum and a groan, then offers his hands to me. “You’re lucky I’m letting you,” he says. “I could be making you work for it.”

I almost snap back that he’s lucky I’m here at all, but that’s cruel in the wrong way.

I want to make his body ache, not his heart.

I loop the belt around his wrists and tie it as tightly as I can. I can see Maddox testing the restraints. If he wanted to, he could break free—a belt is hardly the same as a zip tie or sturdy manacles. But Maddox’s lips part, and I see his cheeks get redder.

He likes the restraint.

I take the belt—and his wrists—and drag them up, so that his hands are up against the headboard. It doesn’t have fancy hooks, but it does have vertical wooden bars. I loop the other end of the belt around that.

A full-body shudder runs through him, and he arches his back. “Fuck, yeah,” he groans, his cock throbbing as he thrusts his hips up into the air. “Need… need you.” He’s panting, and I can see the desire starting to curl around him like wisps of smoke, pulling him under.

I sit back to admire him. He’s hairy—not as hairy as I am—and I like that. I’ve never been one who enjoys clean-shaved, dainty men. Give me somebody like Maddox over a Silvano any day.

I shove thoughts of Silvano aside as I bend down to bite one of Maddox’s nipples.

He cries out, then throws his arm over his face to stifle the sounds he’s making.

Everyone in this place is going to know what we’re up to, and while I know Maddox is going to be embarrassed, I don’t particularly care.

I just want to hear him, to see him come undone under my touch, in a way I haven’t been able to see in full for so, so very fucking long.

I abuse that nipple until it’s red and swollen, then I move to the other one. Maddox’s hard, leaking cock brushes against me, and I can feel him straining to get more friction. I smile and lift my body out of the way, even if it’s just as much torture for myself as it is for him.

He lets out a garbled sound, no longer verbal. I feel a visceral thrill about that. I’ve done this, turned him into a whimpering mess for me, and it’s only going to be the first time of many. Maybe I’ll have to turn it into a game, to see just how fast I can make him go from chatty and defiant to putty in my hands.

When I’m satisfied that both of his nipples are absolutely aching, I lean back and grab his thighs. “You’d better hold these open for me,” I growl. “I’ll crush your balls if you make this harder for me.”

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