Page 92 of Caged In

Nah, he likes living with Reni, the man is funny and a good friend—and what if mister serial killer is a sleepwalker, huh? He doesn’t want to wake up in those conditions, especially ifSiniekills in his sleep.

“I’m going to call you Sinie,” Izz declares. Practically bellowing the nickname in his excitement.

“You will not.”

“Ugh, fine. How about . . .” Izz taps his chin in thought. “. . . Sin? Yeah. That’s it. You are now officially Sin—”

Izz’s back hits the wall faster than he can blink. The side of his leg pressing up tight against the sleeping bunk. Sinn'ous’shand pinning him to the wall by his chest. Holding him flat to the cold bricks—or whatever is under the whitewashed uneven paint job.

Swallowing hard, Izz tilts his head back staring directly into dark eyes. Watching the brown flecks dance within black irises. The sheer danger lurking at the surface . . .

Izz’s guts churn, his lungs constricting in their caged confines. His body terrified he’s pushed Sinn'ous too far. Overstepped.

“Are—” Izz releases a shuddering breath, “are you going to kill me?”

Sinn'ous’s head tilts to the side ever so slightly. A spark of excitement flashing through his eyes. “Perhaps.” He leans in, bringing his chest flush with Izz’s. “Or perhaps . . . I’ll do this . . .”

Izz can see Sinn'ous is moving in to kiss him. It’s deliberately slow, he is given enough time to turn his head away or tell Sinn'ous to stop. He doesn’t. He allows the contact. Allows the soft lips to press against his own. He would not have guessed a serial killer could have such soft warm lips.

He hums as the kiss deepens, opening up to the tongue licking over his lips for entry. Smooth and silky. Their tongues moving together as one. Like he’s been kissing Sinn'ous for years. Their tempo matching perfectly . . . Addictively.

Izz breaks the kiss, his body heating with anticipation. “I want it. With you.” Izz breathlesslywhispers to Sinn'ous, gripping the male’s hips to draw him in closer.

“You sure . . .” Sinn'ous lazily stretches his arms out, caging Izz in against the wall. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll protect you either way.”

“I’m sure.” And he is, he has wanted it for some time now. “Hell, the first time I saw you I thought you were hot as fuck. I would have introduced myself, only my cellmate told me . . .”He gestures vaguely around with his hand, to indicate Sinn'ous’s reputation within the prison, “. . . You know.”

Sinn'ous makes a noise that could be anything from a‘yeah I know what I did’to a‘yeah, those rumours are vastly over exaggerated’.

Izz’s starting to think maybe they are. He’s seen nothing but nice intentions from Sinn'ous. Surely he’s not all bad—

Izz gasps in alarm as he’s unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, bouncing on the mattresses as they protest his harsh invasion.

“Hey,” Izz yells, sitting up, “what did you do that for—”

He’s cut off by a hand wrapping around his throat, shoving him back into the bunk, pinning him down as Sinn'ous braces over him. Looming above him—he would be terrified at the look on the male’s face, if he doesn’t trust Sinn'ous with his life. Trust Sinn'ous not to kill him.

“You’re mine,” Sinn'ous growls, his hand tightening around Izz’s throat. “All mine. No one else can touch you.”

It’s difficult to breathe. Wheezing in shallow pulls to try to draw air inside his lungs. His mind screaming at him to give it more oxygen. His body begging him to arch his back and rub up into the heavy weight over it, to relieve some pressure—who knew being choked would turn him on so much.

Sinn'ous bites Izz’s lip, relinquishing the hold on Izz’s neck just enough so the smaller inmate doesn’t pass out, “you’re gorgeous when you’re helpless.”

Is he supposed to answer? Or is it an involuntary confession Sinn'ous didn’t mean to say out loud?

All he knows is he wants more, he craves it. “Please,” he moans, giving in to his body’s urge to arch. Digging his nails into Sinn'ous’s sides.

His head is forced to the side, a soft velvety tongue sliding over his hot flesh.

“Roll onto your stomach,” Sinn'ous murmurs into his ear.

Izz doesn’t hesitate to follow his order. Squirming his way over. Sinn'ous is no help, staying put, not budging an inch to give him room to move. He has to manoeuvre in the tight space between the prison mattresses and the male’s thick coiled muscles.

He’s a hundred percent a bottom. He loves this feeling. Loves the heavyweight pinning him down. Loves how dominated he feels. How overpowered, yet he isn’t completely helpless. He trusts in the male holding him down. Knows Sinn'ous will stop if he asks.

Izz grips the sheets above his head as his pants are slid down. Two large hands grasping his ass, massaging it roughly. He bites the bed to hold back his cries. He doesn’t need the whole prison hearing him fall apart. It’s bad enough he can hear their loud voices bouncing off the cell’s walls’, he doesn’t need them knowing what he and Sinn'ous are up to.

The hem of his shirt is tugging up, and he assists to throw the grey fabric across the room—to land wherever. All he cares about is it being off his body and out of the way so Sinn'ous has access to him. Access to all of him.

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