14. Thirteen - Izzy

“I’m not sure why you’re so against it,” Keegan said for the millionth—okay, second—time.

Izzy crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders, glaring at his feet as he curled and uncurled his toes inside Keegan’s thick wool socks. They were finally starting to feel normal again. They’d been numb when they got back from their hike, then burned with pins and needles as they thawed. His thigh was still aching too, the metal attracting the cold, but it would fade in a few minutes as well. The hike had been worth it. The views were spectacular, and getting his heart rate up, out in the fresh air, had felt amazing. Izzy hadn’t realized how much he needed it. Back when he still had Birdie, they used to go out on the trails near his parents’ farm all the time. Not in the winter, though. This was his first time experiencing the backcountry covered in snow.

At the moment, Izzy kind of wished he were still out in the snow-blanketed silence. Even though it was dark now and the temperature had plummeted, he’d rather be freezing his toes off than arguing with Keegan about this. “Because I barely know him, and I definitely can’t afford him.”

Keegan lifted the spoon from the spaghetti sauce he was stirring and pointed it at Izzy, a splat of tomato hitting the floor between them before vanishing under Lucky’s eager tongue. “First things first, you’re part of the ranch family, and it might be a little convoluted and incestuous over there, but Xavier isn’t going to say no to family. And second,” Keegan continued before Izzy could come up with a plausible argument, “if he did charge you, which I doubt will happen, there are a lot of us who would be more than willing to help pay for it.”

Izzy didn’t want Keegan’s money, and he was starting to regret telling Keegan the rest of the current scandal. He’d been nothing but understanding and supportive, but he also wouldn’t leave Izzy alone about it so he could ignore the problem until it went away. Izzy should have expected it. Keegan, the overbearing asshole, saw something he thought he could fix, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Luckily, Izzy was just as stubborn, because no way was he letting Keegan win this one. He didn’t need Xavier, in all his part-time-publicist glory, coming to his rescue. Izzy had things under control. He hadn’t had a panic attack since before they got to the cabin. Forty-eight hours was a record at the moment.

“Isaac,” Keegan sighed, returning the spoon to the little ceramic rest on the counter.

Izzy narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

Keegan raised his eyes to the ceiling, like someone in the loft was going to help him deal with Izzy’s bullshit. “Izzy,” he tried again, abandoning their simmering dinner and walking over to cup Izzy’s cheek in one of his big, warm hands.

Izzy leaned into the touch helplessly, his eyes trying to fall shut. Dammit, why did he let Keegan play him like this?

“What are you scared of? Do you think Xavier is going to blame you for what happened?”

Izzy clenched his jaw and shrugged, not able to meet Keegan’s gaze. Of fucking course he was. Xavier was a rich, powerful guy who’d probably never had someone look at him wrong, much less been fucked over like Izzy had. At best, he’d think Izzy was a fool. At worst, he might believe, like so many people on the internet did, that Izzy was in on it. That he’d been helping Josh hide the abuse. He’d never even told Micah the whole truth. What if Micah found out and didn’t believe him? Or Ryan? Or Maggie? Izzy’s eyes burned and he tried to pull away before Keegan could see it, but Keegan had him backed against the counter and just stepped closer, trapping him.

“Look at me, Isaac,” Keegan said, tone unyielding even as he brushed a gentle thumb below Izzy’s eye, catching the dampness on his lashes.

Izzy braced himself and glanced up, but Keegan’s eyes held only soft compassion.

“We know you, baby. No one is going to think you helped that monster hurt anyone. You were young and, I’d guess, probably groomed to trust him.”

Izzy flinched at that word. Groomed. That felt…heavy. And much more deliberate than what Izzy remembered. His breathing got tight, but a moment later, a weight pressed against his legs.

He and Keegan both looked down at the blue-eyed dog that had squirmed her way between them and was now sitting on their feet, looking at Izzy imploringly. Izzy cracked a smile and unfolded his arms so she could nuzzle and lick his hand.

Once Riley was sure he was okay, Keegan caught the back of Izzy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know you’re having trouble believing it, but baby, you weren’t his accomplice. You didn’t help him. You were one of his victims.”

Izzy pressed his lips together to keep from arguing. Somewhere in his head, he knew Keegan was right, but it didn’t do anything to stop the guilt that kept creeping up and trying to choke him.

It took the rest of the night, all of dinner, and until they were sprawled on the sofa, sated and a little sticky, for Izzy to say, “Fine. You can call Xavier. But if he says no, you’re the one who has to deal with impending breakdown.”

Izzy was floating on an endorphin high, his ass on fire while exhilaration coursed through him in ever-building waves. Keegan’s palm came down again, jostling the plug up against his prostate and lighting him up with equal parts pain and ecstasy. He groaned and thrust his oozing cock into the too-wide gap between Keegan’s thighs.

Keegan, it turned out—much to Izzy’s delight and dismay—loved edging. Izzy hated edging…right up until he got to come, at which point, he adored it and would eagerly consent to doing it again. That eagerness wore off fast once his cock was dripping an overstimulated puddle on Keegan’s hardwood floors.

“Keegan,” Izzy whined, his head swimming. He couldn’t get any friction like this, sprawled across Keegan’s thighs, face down, ass up on the bed while Keegan tried out a few of the toys he’d packed. The plug was thick, because Izzy liked the stretch, but he’d never been spanked with something inside him, and clenching down on the toy with every swat was fucking with his head in the best way. He never thought he could trust someone to push him to this point of desperation over and over again. Not until Keegan. Izzy wanted more. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to cry, and beg, and come . He wanted to keep riding this wave until Keegan decided to let him get off. “Keegan.”

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Keegan said, smoothing his hand up and down Izzy’s back, pausing to tug Izzy’s hair just as his palm smacked down again, right over the plug.

Izzy let out a shout, his cock throbbing as he teetered on the edge. He spread his legs and arched his back. “Please, please, please,” he begged. He rubbed his hot, damp face against the bedding, his fingers twisting in the towel Keegan had thrown down to protect their only remaining clean sheets.

“Please, what?” Keegan asked, his voice gravely with arousal. His erection was pressed against Izzy’s belly, but he wouldn’t let Izzy do anything about it.

“Please…” Izzy said again, his words floating away while he tried to grasp them.

Keegan chuckled, warm and low. “I need a little more than that, baby.”

Baby. Izzy flushed. Keegan had been calling him that, and Izzy liked it too much. Baby. Keegan didn’t say it like Izzy was a little or a boy, and he’d promised Izzy he didn’t want to be “Daddy,” but other than that, he hadn’t given him any direction. Izzy licked his lips. He’d already said what he wanted to say once. It would be okay to say it again, and if Keegan didn’t like it, he’d let Izzy know. “ Please, sir . Please make me come.”

Keegan groaned and rolled Izzy onto the mattress, then gathered up Izzy’s legs and pressed them up toward his chest. “Hold them there,” he said.

Izzy whimpered at the scratch of the towel against his burning skin but did as he was told. A moment later, he was rewarded by the plug being removed and replaced by Keegan’s fat cock. He clung to Keegan’s shoulders, his lungs heaving as he adjusted to the new stretch.

Keegan cursed as he sank in to the hilt in one swift motion. “Damn, you take me so well,” he praised thickly. “I can’t wait to see that fist you brought wreck this pretty hole.”

Izzy’s vision blurred, his breath stuttered, and his body throbbed. “Gonna come,” he managed to gasp out.

Keegan cursed again and was quick to wrap his hand around Izzy’s cock and work it, fast and firm, while Izzy flew off on a cloud of ecstasy. Keegan’s speeding thrusts only intensified it, dragging out Izzy’s orgasm until he was sure he was going to pass out from too much of a good thing.

He might have, actually, because when he blinked back to awareness, he was sprawled half on top of Keegan’s chest, his sore ass in the air and his face pressed to the curve of Keegan’s shoulder. “You broke me,” he mumbled, lips moving against Keegan’s skin. His muscles were wrung out, and he was pretty sure he’d never be able to lift his head again.

Keegan chuckled, his voice sleep-soaked. “Good, ’cause you broke me too.” He rubbed Izzy’s back, then scratched his scalp, making Izzy wish he could purr like a cat.

Izzy drifted like that for a while, but eventually, he remembered Keegan’s comment about the fisting toy. He shivered and let Keegan mistake it for cold, tugging a blanket over him. Should Izzy tell him he’d never used the toy? He’d had every intention of trying it when he’d bought it, but when it arrived in the mail, the size was too intimidating, and he’d never gotten the guts to do more than tease himself with it.

In the end, he decided not to say anything. Keegan was just talking in the heat of the moment, right? He wouldn’t actually try to fit that massive thing inside Izzy’s body. Izzy shivered again and snuggled closer. Would he?

Izzy laughed as Lucky bounded through the snow, chasing a snowball that had dissolved upon impact. Lucky didn’t care, though. He just chomped down on the spot where it had landed, then looked to Izzy to throw another one.

Chance had played with them for a while before he got bored and started patrolling the edges of the yard. Izzy’s sweet girl, Riley, was up on the porch with Keegan, taking a nap.

Keegan was sipping coffee, settled under the single heat lamp—that didn’t make things warm enough for Izzy’s taste—with a book. He’d offered Izzy one as well, but Izzy wasn’t much of a reader. He preferred movies in his downtime, or, you know, going out and partying.

Not that he wasn’t enjoying himself. The peace up at the cabin the last few days, just Izzy, Keegan, and the dogs, had done wonders for his stress levels. Izzy didn’t know if it was the quiet, the company, the fact that he couldn’t obsessively check his social media, or the high-quality orgasms, but he wasn’t going to complain. Honestly, it was probably all of the above. He never thought he could be happy out in the woods like this. Hell, his friends would have laughed if he suggested it. He was a party boy. It was what he did. Peace and quiet and alone time? No thank you.

Except. He glanced at Keegan, only to find him watching them with a soft smile curling his lips. Maybe Izzy was losing it, but at the moment, he’d trade a hundred nights at the bar for a hundred nights of Keegan smiling at him, talking to him, touching him. Izzy ducked his head and gathered another snowball. Was this real? Or just a fantasy bubble he’d fallen into that would burst as soon as they were back in the real world?

Something smacked him in the chest, hard enough that Izzy let out a startled shout, his head jerking up, his eyes wide.

Keegan was at the bottom of the steps, grinning at Izzy as he packed another snowball. “Think fast, brat,” he called before throwing the next one with surprising accuracy.

Izzy froze a moment too long, and it smacked him in the shoulder. He gave an outraged shout, then let fly with his own snowball—that missed and scattered across the decking when Keegan dodged.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Keegan asked as he loaded up again. “You’re clearly a catcher, not a pitcher.”

Izzy groaned at the bad joke, but he was also laughing. Hell no was Keegan going to win this battle. Izzy was younger and, well, he wasn’t stronger and he’d spent his childhood riding horses, not playing catch, but it wasn’t like Keegan was more athletic. He was a vet, for fuck’s sake. That required a lot of school and didn’t leave much time for sports.

The snowballs flew. Lucky went bounding between them, trying to snag them out of the air. Chance, when he joined the fun, had better luck and a higher reach. Riley even got in on the action, chasing after the balls that missed Keegan and hit the front porch.

“What the fuck?” Izzy squawked when he dodged one snowball, only to get a mouthful of snow when the second one nailed him right in the face. He was still wiping his eyes when a heavy weight slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and into a snowbank.

Keegan’s arms went around him, cushioning his fall with help from their thick winter gear. The snow was a couple of feet deep where it had drifted up against a small shed, so they ended up mostly buried, just the bright blue sky visible behind Keegan’s head. “Gotcha,” he laughed.

Izzy glared at him but couldn’t hold it in the face of Keegan’s warm smile. He pouted instead. “You’re cheating. I’m not sure how, but you are.”

Keegan ducked down and nuzzled their cold noses together before letting Izzy in on the secret to his success. “I went to college on a baseball scholarship,” he admitted, chuckling at Izzy’s outraged gasp. “Baby, you never stood a chance.”

Izzy grumbled and pulled him in for a cold kiss that quickly turned heated. No. He really hadn’t.

Izzy paced across the small cabin, his skin itching and prickling as he grumbled curses under his breath. How had he survived being crammed in this tiny shoebox for so many days? The walls were closing in on him, and the air was thin and stale. Izzy was two minutes away from saying screw it, going outside, and throwing himself face first into a snowbank, to hell with the freezing rain that had been falling all morning.

Riley was glued to his side, and as much as he loved her furry little face, he was too jittery to stop and give her attention right now. Keegan was in the shower, Lucky was sprawled out in front of the woodstove, and Chance was sitting regally in his dog bed, tracking Izzy’s progress.

Izzy was still a little wary around Chance, though Keegan had assured him that the wolf-dog was well trained, and while Izzy needed to respect his space, he was still a dog for the most part. Which was great. Cool. But it didn’t stop Izzy from being extra aware of those gold eyes tracking him with way too much intelligence.

Chance wasn’t the problem right now. The cabin was the problem. That, and the fact that Izzy had just learned that Xavier was coming tomorrow. How had they been up on the mountain for six days already?

It felt like the time had passed glacially slow and also way too quickly. Izzy wasn’t ready to go back. He wanted to stay in their isolated bubble forever. But also, he needed to get out of this cabin and find some fucking air. Was it the heat from the woodstove making it hard to breathe? Maybe Izzy needed to open the door for a few minutes and let in some oxygen. He was heading in that direction when Chance stretched and then stepped into his path.

Their eyes locked, and Izzy jolted to a stop, his breath leaving him in a shaky gust. “I just need some air,” he told Chance, like he would both understand and agree.

Chance sat on his haunches and yawned, revealing a lot of sharp-looking teeth. He licked his chops as he locked eyes with Izzy again.

Right. Not going outside. Izzy was looking for a window to open when he realized Riley was alternating between poking him with her wet nose and pawing at his thigh.

Oh. He was having a panic attack. That was why he thought there wasn’t enough air in the room.

Riley pawed him again, then gave a short bark, using her body to herd him toward the sofa.

He sat and dug into his pocket for one of the treats Keegan had had him start carrying. “Good girl,” he said and signed as he fed it to her.

She took it daintily, then crawled up into his lap, leaning against his chest until he relaxed back and lifted a hand to pet her.

He heard a loud huff and turned to see Chance watching him again. The wolf-dog gave Izzy a look that said “About time you noticed,” then turned and wandered back to flop on the floor, back-to-back with Lucky, who woke up long enough to lick Chance’s ear before dropping back to sleep.

When Keegan exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam a few minutes later, he zeroed in on Izzy and Riley on the couch. Izzy was starting to think that everyone in the cabin had some kind of extra sense when it came to his moods. It would be annoying if Izzy didn’t appreciate it so much.

Keegan tightened the towel around his waist and came around the couch to crouch next to Izzy and cup his cheek. “Shit,” he said on a sigh. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

Izzy leaned into his touch and shrugged. “Not your fault. If I can’t predict when I’ll lose my shit over something stupid, how are you supposed to?”

Keegan shook his head, then leaned in and kissed Izzy’s forehead. “What do you need?”

“Distract me,” Izzy replied, the words coming out faster and more desperate than he intended. “Get me out of my head. I can’t handle feeling like this.”

Keegan kissed him again, on the mouth this time. “Okay. Give me a minute. I know exactly what I’m going to do to you.” He pushed himself up, his knees popping. Izzy would have given him shit about it, but he was too busy trying to figure out what Keegan meant.

“Do to me?” he asked Keegan’s retreating back. “What does that mean?” He twisted around, dislodging Riley, who hopped off the couch, satisfied her job was done for the moment. Keegan was halfway up the stairs and clearly didn’t intend to answer him. What was he planning? And how had he come up with it so fast? Was Izzy going to like this plan, or did Keegan intend to make him suffer? Crap. Izzy flopped back on the couch. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have come up with his own distraction—at least that way, he’d be in control of it.

By the time Keegan returned, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved thermal shirt that clung to his biceps and the planes of his chest, Izzy was ready to demand details. Luckily for his continued mental health, what little of it he had left, he recognized the items in Keegan’s hands. “Oh crap,” he said.

Keegan chuckled, his grin wicked. “You ask, I deliver,” he told Izzy. He leaned down and caught Izzy’s chin, tipping his face up for a kiss that ended too soon. “On your knees, hands on the back of the couch,” he said. “Oh, and drop your pants.”

Izzy gulped, eyeing the remote-controlled prostate massager, but he didn’t hesitate to do as he was told. He lifted his hips and shoved his sweats halfway down his thighs. He was soft for the moment, but that wouldn’t last long once the toy was buzzing against his sweet spot. He rolled to his knees and dropped his elbows to the back of the couch, arching his back and sticking out his ass.

Keegan gave an appreciative hum, and Izzy couldn’t help but show off—his ass was one of his best features after all. The little wiggle earned him a sharp smack that was more noise than sting. “Brat,” Keegan said, warm and fond in a way that made Izzy melt. Who knew “brat” could be an endearment?

Izzy shivered when cool, lube-coated fingers rubbed over his hole, raising goose bumps on his skin. “Ugh,” he whined. “You couldn’t warm it up?” That got him another smack, and he fought a smile at how easily Keegan got played. Spanking still wasn’t a punishment.

Keegan pressed his fingers inside, first one, then two, but he didn’t stay long enough for Izzy to get into it. Instead, they retreated, and the hard plastic of the toy replaced them. Izzy squirmed a little as Keegan got it seated, then squirmed some more at where it rested, just close enough to be felt, but without enough pressure to do him any good.

Izzy made himself still and waited, the lack of anything happening almost worse than the threat of the remote control. Keegan’s eyes were on him, measuring, judging, and Izzy didn’t care. No, that was wrong. He cared a lot, and he wanted every minute of it that he was able to get. His body heated, despite the slight chill in the room, his cock plumping in anticipation. Izzy bit his lip and tried to focus on his breathing. He needed to relax and go with the flow. If Keegan did what Izzy thought he was going to, it was going to be a very long day.

The first time the toy buzzed to life, Izzy wasn’t the least bit ready for it. He’d started to suspect that Keegan didn’t know how the thing worked. But apparently, he did. It pulsed three times, just enough to have Izzy’s hips arching and chasing the sensation before it vanished again. Izzy’s breath shook on the exhale, but he stayed firm. He wasn’t going to let Keegan win this time. Izzy might not know what round they were on—he’d only started keeping score after the snowball fight—but he was determined to come out on top.

Then Keegan was tugging Izzy’s sweats into place. Once he was decent again—as decent as he got anyway—Keegan helped him off the couch. Izzy stood in the center of the living room, waiting for instructions as he tried not to shift in a way that pressed the toy against his prostate any harder. He wasn’t going to give Keegan any advantages.

“What would you like for lunch?” Keegan asked, then hit the button on the remote.

Izzy’s knees nearly gave out, and he had to grip the arm of the sofa to remain upright. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, his eyes shutting and his lips parting as the toy pulsed over and over and over again.

Just as his cock started to press against the inside of his sweats, the vibration stopped. Izzy sagged. He peeled his eyes open and caught Keegan failing to hide his amusement. He glared back.

“Lunch?” Keegan prompted again.

Izzy heaved a sigh. It was going to be a long fucking day.

Keegan Reid needed to die. It was going to be justifiable homicide because Izzy was So. Goddamn. Fucking. Horny. If he didn’t do something, he was going to die. He braced his palms on the side of the sink and glared at his flushed and sweaty reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was torture. It had been hours , and Keegan wouldn’t let him come. Izzy had tried everything, from begging to pleading to the sloppiest, most enthusiastic blow job he could manage, and he still got denied.

Izzy’s chest heaved, and his fingers tightened on the white porcelain. He knew he could end this right now. It wasn’t like Keegan was in the bathroom watching, and there was nothing preventing him from slipping a hand down his pants and jerking himself off in two point three seconds.

But he didn’t. He’d love to say it was because he was proving that he could handle anything Keegan threw at him. But in reality, he just wanted Keegan to be proud of him. He wanted to make Keegan happy, and the only thing he was interested in proving was that, when he wanted to, he could be good.

Izzy splashed water on his face and dried it off before limping his way back to Keegan on the sofa and easing himself down next to him. His asshole was one big, throbbing nerve. A whimper slipped free as the toy shifted.

Keegan hit play on the movie they were watching—one of a small selection he had saved to his laptop. What movie? Izzy didn’t have a fucking clue. There could have been talking, rainbow-colored dogs, and he wouldn’t know it. Right now, he was just trying to breathe and not come.

Izzy’s torturer sat back and opened his arms.

Izzy slumped against his chest and got a hand in his hair and another rubbing his back as a reward.

“How are you doing?” Keegan asked, his tone half amused, half concerned.

“I’m never going to forgive you for this,” Izzy told him frankly as he snuggled closer. “My dick is purple, and I had to stuff a freaking hand towel down my pants cause the wet spot was making me cold.”

Keegan’s chest shook with his laughter, and he squeezed Izzy to him. Fuck, that felt good. “Want to move this upstairs? Or do you want to finish the movie first?”

“What movie?” Izzy asked, already fighting his way off the couch.

Keegan laughed again, and he slid his hand over the curve of Izzy’s ass, just brushing the end of the toy.

Izzy’s legs almost gave out. He forced himself to stay upright, even as his head swam, and started for the stairs, not looking to see if Keegan was following. If he wasn’t, Izzy wasn’t responsible for his actions.

At the top of the stairs, Izzy stopped and blinked.

Keegan had been up here at some point, maybe while Izzy was in the bathroom, regretting his life choices. The overhead light was off, but a lamp to the side was on, its warm light spilling across the bed, lighting the blankets and deepening the shadows. There was some kind of cloth spread across the surface and a huge lump dead center. Izzy licked his lips as Keegan stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Izzy’s waist.

“Strip down. Then I want you on your knees with those pillows under your hips.”

Izzy had never shucked out of his clothes faster. He left them in a pile on the floor and hurried to get into position. It took a little shifting, but he managed it, folding his arms under his head and resting his cheek on them so he could still see Keegan out of the corner of his eye.

Keegan slid a hand down the curve of his spine, then carded his hand through Izzy’s hair. “Beautiful,” he murmured, making Izzy flush and squirm. Then he trailed his hand back to cup Izzy’s ass cheek and rub it down his thigh, so close to where Izzy’s cock was hanging down between his legs. “Is your leg okay like this?” he asked, his fingers tracing the small scar from his surgery.

“Yep,” Izzy answered, flippant.

That got him a hard squeeze to his ass cheek that made him groan. “Answer me seriously, Isaac. Because you’re going to be here for a while, and I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

Izzy could have made a quip about already being uncomfortable, thanks to his raging hard-on, but he bit it back and said, “Yes, sir. I’m good.” It was the truth. Keegan had stacked the pillows just right to support Izzy’s hips without leaving him feeling unstable.

“Good boy,” Keegan answered, the phrase raising goosebumps on Izzy’s arms. Then he dragged a finger along the underside of Izzy’s cock.

Izzy squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to go off then and there. Fuuuck . He’d gotten this far—he wasn’t going to lose it now. He whimpered and fisted his hands in the heavy cloth covering the bed.

A moment later, Keegan was easing the prostate massager from Izzy’s body. Izzy slumped and sighed, hoping all of this meant he was about to get something bigger. Like Keegan’s perfect cock.

Keegan stepped over to the dresser where Izzy’s assortment of toys had been tucked into a drawer after the first night. Izzy couldn’t see him, but he could hear him rooting around in there. He bit his lip, trying to picture what Keegan might choose. Was Izzy getting cuffed to the bed again? They’d done that a few days ago. Or maybe Keegan was going for the cock ring. Izzy might call the whole thing off if he did. The last thing he wanted was more pressure on his cock. Other than that, he had a couple of dildos and a string of anal beads. Ooh. Izzy hoped it was those. The bigger ones gave the best stretch, and they felt incredible when pulled out in the middle of an orgasm.

He was wrong on all counts. Keegan knelt on the bed and set the toy Izzy hadn’t even considered between them. Then he clicked open the lube.

The goddamn fisting dildo.

Izzy’s heart started to race. He’d had every intention of fucking himself with that thing when he’d bought it, but he chickened out every time he tried. It wasn’t even a real fist. The hand was cone-shaped, but the girth was intimidating, and Izzy had never gotten it past the second set of knuckles.

Keegan pressed his lips to Izzy’s ass cheek, then scraped his teeth across the skin. “I can’t wait to see your hole stretch around this monster and swallow it. I haven’t been able to think about anything else all day.”

Izzy trembled, wondering again if he should tell Keegan he’d never successfully used the toy. If he did, would Keegan stop? Izzy kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want Keegan to stop. He wanted Keegan to do what he promised. Izzy swallowed hard and shifted his knees wider.

Keegan hummed in approval, and Izzy felt the cool trickle of lube on his heated skin. It dripped over his hole and slid down his balls. Keegan was being generous with it. That was good. Izzy kind of hoped he used the whole bottle.

Izzy sighed, relaxing into the mattress as Keegan began to massage his thighs and ass, spreading the slippery stuff closer until his fingers were dipping inside, tugging and stretching with each pass. Izzy moaned. After so many hours of pure prostate stimulation, having these new nerve endings teased was blissful, like he was riding a gentle wave instead of fending off a swarm of bees.

He was grateful that Keegan left his sore prostate alone as he opened Izzy up. He made it to three fingers—he was keeping Izzy informed—before Izzy even felt the stretch.

“You’re so perfect for me,” Keegan told him, the praise making Izzy’s head swim with happy chemicals. “You take my fingers so well. Once I’m done fisting you, I’m going to fuck your sloppy hole nice and slow while you tighten back up around me. Maybe I’ll stay there all night. Every time you wake up, I’ll be deep inside you. Tomorrow morning, I’ll fuck you awake, make you come before you even know where you are or what’s happening.”

Izzy’s brain was short-circuiting. Who the fuck was this dirty bastard, and what had he done with Keegan?

He must have said something to that effect, because Keegan chuckled and said, “It’s your fault. You bring it out in me. I want to say and do the filthiest things to you.”

Izzy trembled. God. Fuck. He wanted that too. He wanted Keegan to let loose on him. He wanted Keegan to take everything he had to give. He wanted to tell Keegan he—

Izzy managed to cut off that thought. It was probably just the endorphins. There was no way he’d managed to fall in— Nope. Not going there.

Luckily, Keegan distracted him by removing his fingers. Izzy’s whine of disappointment got him soothing words in response as Keegan slicked lube over the silicone hand that was looking larger by the second. Izzy hid his face in his arm, not sure he wanted to see this.

He took deep breaths as Keegan positioned the fingers at his opening and applied gentle pressure. They slid in easily at first. Izzy was well prepared, stretched and swimming in lube. It felt good. He pressed his face harder to his bicep and fought not to tense up. He could do this. Keegan wanted him to do this. Izzy wanted to do this.

“Isaac,” Keegan said at the same time that Izzy gasped, “Wait.”

Everything in the room went still, quiet apart from the way Izzy’s breath was seesawing in and out.

“I’m not—” Izzy managed. Keegan waited for him to finish. “I haven’t done this before,” he rushed out. “I—I tried, but I couldn’t do it.” Keegan swore and started to ease back with the dildo, but Izzy flailed behind him and caught his wrist. “Don’t. Don’t stop,” he said, clinging to Keegan to keep him in place. “I want this. I do. God, so bad . I just—please—” Izzy was running out of words, the buzzing in his brain and under his skin making them impossible. “Please…”

“Shh,” Keegan soothed, his free hand returning to rub Izzy’s back, grounding him. “Don’t worry. I’m not stopping unless you ask me to. This is at your pace, baby.”

Izzy’s tension unraveled, and his lungs started to work again. “Thank you.”

He could feel Keegan’s smile against his skin when Keegan kissed his upturned ass. “How about you thank me after? Right now, I want you to focus on relaxing and letting me in.”

Izzy gave a nod and peeked back at Keegan, whose eyes were dark but his smile warm. Izzy didn’t know how he could look so composed when he had half a fist up Izzy’s ass, but he figured the fact that it was a toy helped.

Damn, what Izzy wouldn’t give for it to be the real thing. He’d much rather have Keegan, flesh and blood and heat, inside him, stretching him past what he thought was possible. His fingers clenched on Keegan’s wrist, feeling the girth of it.

“Tell me,” Keegan said, apparently reading the hesitation on Izzy’s face. “We can stop and do this another time, when you’re ready. It’s fine, baby.”

Izzy shook his head. “Not that. Just…I want it to be you.” He bit his lip, hoping Keegan understood. He did, if Izzy was reading the mixture of warmth and desire on his face correctly.

Keegan dipped down and pressed a slow, sloppy kiss to Izzy’s slack mouth. “My hand is bigger than this toy,” he warned softly.

“Don’t care,” Izzy replied. “It’ll be better if it’s you.” Which, for all Izzy knew, was a complete lie. He’d never done this after all, but he knew what his heart wanted, and that was Keegan’s fist, not a silicone substitution.

“All right, baby,” Keegan said, voice rough with anticipation. “I’m gonna finish stretching you first, then we can try it. But if you aren’t ready, we’ll stop and work our way up to it. I refuse to hurt you.”

Izzy let Keegan’s wrist go and dug his fingers back into the sheets. “Yes, sir,” he breathed, relief flooding him.

Keegan started working the toy deeper again, twisting it gently back and forth. Izzy’s body was giving in, opening farther. Izzy gasped when the knuckles slipped inside, the hand feeling impossibly large. Keegan kept it there, at the widest point, rocking gently and murmuring praise.

Then, just when it was becoming too much and Izzy thought he couldn’t take anymore, Keegan removed the toy, coated his hand liberally in lube and started to press inside again.

The sensation was totally different, warm, hard but soft, and a little bit rough where Keegan’s calluses scratched against Izzy’s delicate skin. He stretched Izzy to the point he’d been at before, then he kept going.

Izzy broke, a stream of babbling, pleading sounds leaving him, alternating between please-more, oh-god, and so-much, too-much. His eyes teared and his lungs heaved, but he did his best to stay still and, more importantly, relaxed.

When his hand finally slipped inside, Keegan cursed. He sounded awed, turned on, and overwhelmed.

Izzy felt like he’d stepped sideways into an alternate state of being. He was riding an endorphin high and he wasn’t sure what was pain and what was pleasure, but he knew for a fact that he needed both. He loved both. He never wanted Keegan to stop. He felt like he’d lost complete control of his body; he was a puppet for Keegan to play with. The mental image made him giggle. Hand puppet. Laughing made him tighten around Keegan’s wrist, and they both groaned.

Keegan was moving his hand in tiny, rocking thrusts, his knuckles bumping against Izzy’s prostate and reminding him of how sensitive he was, how badly he needed to come. He didn’t have any words left to explain himself, but Keegan knew. He fucked Izzy’s ass, slow and steady, grinding his knuckles into Izzy’s prostate as he finally, finally, gripped his cock and pumped it. Izzy was flying, and Keegan’s command to “Let me feel you come on my fist, baby,” sent him over the edge into endless, rolling waves of bliss.

He barely noticed when Keegan removed his hand, other than the fact that he was left open and aching. Keegan vanished for a moment, but when he came back, Izzy begged for his cock. He was too empty. Keegan’s weight pressing him down into the mattress as he filled Izzy’s ass again and again was exactly what he had been missing. Keegan always gave him what he needed.

That was his last thought before darkness stole him away.