Page 112 of Wrangled

“Got a bottle of water you can take upstairs?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then go grab two of them.” He went to rise, and I cupped his face. “I’ve got you.”

He swallowed. “For the next seven days.”

I frowned. “Don’t be thinking about that now. Let’s concentrate on what we have, okay?” He gave a nod, albeit with a little reluctance. “Now go get the water.”

He got up and went to the kitchen. I waited for him at the foot of the stairs, and we climbed them, my heart pounding.

Whatever troubled him, I wanted to take it all away—for the next seven days.

My thoughts went to my original idea of a long-distance D/s relationship. I’d wanted to share it with him, but now I had my doubts.Would it work?The arrival of Clay’s letter had disturbed things. It was right that Robert knew the truth, but he hadn’t sent a text to let me know there was an issue, he hadn’t told me he’d be late… Small things, yes, but what did they imply about the possibility of making a long-distance relationship over the phone work in the long run?

Will I be forgotten?

Nowtherewas a sobering thought, one that poured ice water onto my resolve.

Don’t think about it now. Focus on Robert.He was my priority. He needed me.

We entered his bedroom, and I pointed to the nightstand. “Leave the bottles there.” Then I dropped my backpack to the floor, and undressed him, keeping my own clothes on. I caught a whiff of body wash and smiled. “Good boy.” I took him in my arms, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his clean, masculine smell. I slid my hands down his back, until I cupped his asscheeks. I gave them a rough squeeze, and he shivered.

I pointed to the bed. “Bend over.” He did as instructed.

I knelt on the floor behind him, spread him wide, and went to work on his hole with my tongue. Within seconds he was writhing, and I held him down while I tongue-fucked him.

“L-love it when you do that,” he stammered.

I chuckled, knowing the vibrations would only add to the sensations. I loved how he grabbed the comforter, clutching it. When his movements grew more frenetic, I figured he was getting close.

Not yet, Robert.

I pulled back. “You could come from this, couldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he moaned, attempting to get my tongue deeper.

I held him steady. “Well, you won’t tonight. I have something else in mind. A couple of somethings, actually.” I picked up the backpack from the rug where I’d left it, opened it, removed the massager, and set it down in front of him where he could see it.

Play time.

Robert

Oh Lord.

It was black, shaped like a weird letter L. There was a curved piece at the bottom, and sticking up from it at one end was another piece with two bulbous parts.

Toby leaned over me, his shirt brushing against my back. “You know what this is?”

“Sure. A torture device.”

He laughed, then tapped the bulbous part with his finger. “This bit goes inside, snug up against your prostate. This bulge here means it won’t pop out. Andthispart—” He indicated the long curved bit. “—rests under your balls. Now, onto the bed, on your back, legs in the air.”

My heart thumping, I rolled over, pulling my legs toward my chest. Toby opened the nightstand drawer, removed the lube, and handed both the bottle and the massager to me.

“Okay, put it in.”

I slicked up the silicone and eased it inside me, moaning at the stretch as the fat bulge popped through the ring of muscle. The curved part pressed against my taint, the round end pushing into my sac.

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