Page 93 of Caged In

Frustration growing at his pants still clinging to his legs. Covering his legs. Blocking the skin on skin contact he desperately craves. Desperately needs.

Sinn'ous takes care of it. Shoving backwards to strip everything off Izz’s lower half. From his prison pants to his socks and shoes. The whole lot thrown off in one sweep. Leaving him completely bare to the male’s hungry eyes.

Izz nervously glances over his shoulder, feeling self-conscious—

His thoughts dissolve as he watches Sinn'ous removing his own clothes. Tattoos flashing in all their glory. Bright in the dim cell. Standing out against his flawless skin.

Whoa, I forgot how good he looks without his clothes on.

Izz had tried not to look at Sinn'ous in the showers. Tried to avoid studying every detail. Now though . . . he can take it all in.

The blood splatters littering Sinn'ous’s body. From the blood pools on each shoulder dripping crimson down his upper arms. To the deep red ink spreading out over the inside of his thighs—splattering, to dust the tops and backs.

Izz tucks his arms under himself, pushing his upper body off the bunk so he can turn over. He wants a better view of Sinn'ous—

“No,” a sharp order, followed by a hand pushing Izz back down, “I want you like this.”

“O-okay. . .” Izz surrenders, stretching his arms out once more. Keeping himself in the position Sin wants him in. He wants to appease Sinn'ous, wants to impress and do whatever pleases Sin.

Izz whimpers as hands tug his hips up, obediently keeping his chest on the mattress. His ass on display for the male behind him. He can’t see what the other is doing, he can, however, hear small clicking sounds—

Slickened fingers trail between his ass cheeks, telling him Sinn'ous has some form of lube. Something Izz completely forgot about in his strung-out state. At least one of them can think clearly enough to do the prep work. Because he sure can’t.

He tenses as a finger brushes over his entrance. He can’t help it. Yes, he wants this, but he’s so nervous—is it going to be painful?

“Relax,” Sinn'ous orders softly, his other hand massaging Izz’s hip to calm him down.

He tries his best, tries to be good for Sin. To do as he’s told—

All thoughts cease as a finger works its way into his hole. Pushing past the tight rim. The lube helping it slide inside with ease. It feels strange. Burning its way inside. His musclescontracting around it as he tries to breathe through the strange sensations plaguing his body.

The stretch isn’t painful. Tight and hot. But not painful. Sinn'ous is slow and methodical, gently pushing in the intruding digit. Rubbing Izz’s insides delicately with the smooth pad of his finger.

Working him into a frenzy. His back arching, his muscles relaxing to open up. Allowing Sinn'ous to enter with less friction—

The second finger sings, Izz hisses and tries to pull away—

A hand grips his hip, holding him firmly, keeping him still as the second finger slides in to join the first. The stretch intensifying as Sinn'ous slides his fingers in and out. Building to a rhythm which has Izz panting and rocking back to meet each intrusion.

“Don’t stop. Feels good,” Izz gasps, shifting his knees, widening his legs to move into a more comfortable position.

It’s over all too soon, the fingers retreating to pop free. He would have protested, if the mattresses didn’t shift. Indicating Sinn'ous is moving in closer behind him.

“Fuck. . .” Izz breathes out, his arms stretching out in front of him to grip the edge of the bed. His entire body shaking in anticipation.

This is really happening.

His ass cheeks are spread open, and a blunt head nudging at him. He tries his best to relax. To not tense. It’s harder than he thinks. His body automatically tightening in defence—

Izz grits his teeth as Sinn'ous pushes, the head popping past his first ring. A burning pain following the penetration. Heat radiating along his spine and down the insides of his thighs.

His grip tightens, white knuckling the bed below him. It’s a lot to take in. The burn, the stretch, his whole body lighting up to an inferno of sensations, making it hard to breathe.

“You alright.” Sin sounds as if he’s holding on by a thread. It must feel incredible to him, tight and warm.

Shit. Izz never realised how much it burns to be penetrated. Did it feel like this to everyone he’d been with?

“It burns. Can you—can you give me a minute?”

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