Page 67 of Getting It Twisted

“No,” he says. “They don’t deserve to see you like I do.”

“And George says I’m the possessive one,” I say with a smirk that quickly falls with another grinding motion against my ass. “How late are we?”

“Pretty late. But before we leave, can you promise me something?”

“Yeah, whatever.” With my cock throbbing and the plug nudging my prostate, he can’t expect me to think straight.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful how?”

“We’re going to this party for one reason only. There’s no need to stay longer than we have to and no need to make this a bigger problem than it is.”

“Why would I cause a problem?”

He meets my gaze in the mirror, giving me a pointed look.

I roll my eyes. “You’re always so fucking paranoid. Simmer down; it’ll be fine. Fun, even.”

“We’ll see about that. You’ve got the money, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me.”

“Fine.” I pinch the rolled-up hundred-dollar bills out of my pocket.

“I’m surprised they fit in there,” he says with a smirk, sliding his hands up and down my sides. He noses into my neck. Pinches my hips. When he slots his crotch to my ass, I gasp as his movement nudges the plug deeper inside me.

“How’s that ass healing up?” he asks.

“See for yourself.”

He unzips me, and since I’m going commando, all the fabric he has to pull down is my pants.

“Red?” I ask.

He strokes my sore ass cheeks with his callused palms and reaches the handle of the plug that sticks out of my body. “Oh, baby,” he grunts. “What’s this?”

Baby?My mouth wants to smile, but I turn it forcefully into a pout. “It was supposed to be a surprise. For when we get home.” I gasp as he pulls at the plug, making the flared end push against my sensitive rim.

“You wanted to be all stretched and ready for me?”

“Yeah, but . . . Fuck, we’re late already,” I say, but my protest gets lost in the breathiness of my voice.

“Come on.” His gaze is fixed to where he’s fucking the plug in and out of me. He seems mesmerized by it. Every time the thickest part passes, I can’t help but moan. It’s my biggest plug, yet it still isn’t as thick as his cock. He pauses the plug at the widest part and traces my stretched rim with a finger. “Tennyson’s waited five years for that money. I think he can wait a little longer.”

“Don’t blame me when he and his biker friends chop us into little pieces and throw us into Blackwater Lake.”

“It’s worth the risk, don’t you think?”

To me it’s worth the risk, sure, but I didn’t think the same goes for Daniel. I’m not sure how serious he is though. As for me, I’m deadly serious; I’d die to get fucked, but I wouldn’t want him to go down with me. Or would I? I snort out a laugh, and the porcelain is cool against my hands as I bend toward the sink.

Daniel pulls the plug out and immediately replaces it with two fingers. He scissors them inside me, stretching my lubed-up hole.

I whimper at the sudden, demanding pleasure. “Oh fuck . . .”

“Yeah, you’re ready, all right. Back up a bit. Spread those cheeks like I know you like to do.” He grabs the lube I keep in the bathroom for douching purposes and slicks himself up. Without much preamble, he aligns our bodies and pushes inside me.

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