Page 40 of Peep

Those words must be enough to seal our sick fate because Anders furiously drags my scrubs and boxes down my thighs, letting them pool at my knees.

Cool air dances over my pucker as he spreads me open and leans down to press rough kisses over my full cheeks, teasing me with a flick of his tongue over my rim.

I stretch forward, grab the lube from the bedside table and chuck it behind me.

The pop of the cap makes my dick bounce. I glance at the guy next to me, head spinning, thinking about what we're about to do while this evil bastard is passed out beside us. I’m flooded with a sense of power and control. Knowing what I’ve taken from him while I find my own pleasure is more satisfying and arousing than it has any right to be.

I gasp as cool lube dribbles down my crack, slipping down to my winking hole. God, I want this, but it also feels monumental.

“You ok, baby? Is this what you want?”

My heart contracts. I thought nicknames were my thing, but no. Calling me baby and asking for consent tells me everything I need to know—I’m safe with him.

“Never better, but I need you inside me, stat,” I joke like always.

Anders’ laugh booms around the room like a tight hug as he leans back to massage my bum, flushing away any apprehension I may have.

“All in good time. Let me open you up first.”

I groan in disapproval while pushing back against his crotch.

Anders’ wrist snaps, giving me a delicious light slap.

“Stay still.”

I fuckinglovebossy Anders. I’d run circles around him if he didn’t occasionally put me in my place. And the fact he chooses to unleash this side when we’re intimate is even better. I’m a bratty bottom, always have been, and always will be, and he knows how to handle me and keep me in check.

“Ah, fuck,” I moan as he slips the tip of his finger inside me. There’s a slight burn, but I force myself to unclench so he can glide all the way in. Hooking his finger, he brushes over my throbbing prostate, causing my hips to buck. Anders’ other hand digs into my hip as he drags me back to my original position.

“More,” I demand.

He leans over me and places feather-light kisses down the arch of my back, making me shudder uncontrollably. Every kiss, stroke and caress as he opens me up feels like it’s almost too much, too intimate. My vision begins to blur. Oh god, no way am I going to cry. I refuse to be the kind of guy who sobs during sex.

Another finger breaches my hole, the sting reminding me to get the fuck out of my head and enjoy this. He continues to work me open with such patience, slowly increasing pressure and ferocity as he adds a third finger until my hole is pliant.

Anders twists his hand, flicking my guiche piercing with his thumb. The new sensation has my legs spasming and my cock growing in length.

“Holy fuck,” I sing like I’m part of a slutty church choir.

“You ready to take me, baby?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I peek at the unconscious man next to me, and an unexpected laugh bubbles through me in my state of horny delirium.

“Jahmar, what is it?” Anders asks with an edge of concern.

I look over my shoulder at him, nodding towards the patient.

“This is not normal.” My arse twitches around his fingers as I lose myself to laughter.

“Oh, you’re only just realising? Right before I’m about to shove my cock inside you?” He smiles, dimple popping so gloriously. I attempt a response, but I’m a snickering mess.

Arse up in the air, half dressed in scrubs, about to go to pound town while an unconscious bastard chills beside us. This level of debauchery was not on my bingo card.

“Enough,” Anders playfully scorns, spanking my arse and eliciting a yelp from me.

I muffle my face in the plastic sheet to suppress my chuckle. The sound of Anders rustling with a condom wrapper pricks my ears.

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