Page 31 of Challenge Me

I nodded, eyeing another tool I’d spotted in his hand. I knew what it was; I had used plenty of them putting together furniture. Well–supervising while someone else assembled it for me. “Allen key,” I said, still sounding like I was doubting myself.

“Good boy.”

My entire body went still. Ghost had never called me that before; the praise struck somewhere deep and humiliating. Heat flooded my face, and the muscles around the tools inside me clenched hard enough to make the metal shift.

Ghost saw everything.

“Oh,” he murmured. “You like that.”

He dipped the longer end of the key into grease.

“Ghost.” The word emerged less as a warning and more as a plea.

He wrapped one hand around my cock; the filter wrench kept me rigid in his grip, and his thumb spread the wetness that had gathered at the tip, mixing it with grease.

The rounded end of the Allen key pressed against the slit. I sucked in a breath.

Ghost pushed gently.

The first intrusion stung. My body instinctively tried to retreat, but Ghost held me steady. The narrow rod slid deeper, sinking into a part of my body no one had ever explored before.

“Breathe,” Ghost purred.

I obeyed; the discomfort sharpened, then transformed. Every fraction of movement created a strange, concentrated heat that radiated through my entire cock. The oil-filter wrench intensified it, keeping me swollen and preventing the pressure from escaping.

Ghost fed the key further inside until the curved end approached the tip. The internal pressure became maddening, and I let out another silent gasp.

“How does it feel?” He asked.

I couldn’t answer immediately. My cock throbbed around the key. Each pulse pressed the metal against sensitive tissue, creating a sharp, involuntary pleasure that bordered on pain.

“Wrong,” I whispered.

Ghost’s thumb stroked beneath the rubber strap. “And?”

“Good.”

His smile turned almost tender, and I could no longer remain upright. I sank fully onto my knees. Ghost rose before me. His cock hung inches from my mouth, heavy and dark, the underside patterned with the raised tread texture of a tire. The ridges caught the light each time he moved. My eyes trailed from base to tip, and I saw, for the very first time, the chrome ring pierced through the tip of his cock and out from the underside, the metal shivering with each twitch and throb.

He did not touch me.

He simply waited.

I leaned forward, my lips parted for him. I hated how desperate I was, but my mouth remained the only empty space in me, and I wanted Ghost to fill me completely.

My lips brushed the underside first. The texture scraped lightly against them, rougher than skin but softened by shadow. I opened my mouth and traced the grooves with my tongue, tasting smoke and something faintly metallic beneath the smoke.

Ghost’s hand twisted into my hair.

“So this is what you wanted,” I accused, voice shaking. “To make me worship a car.”

His fingers tightened and pulled my head back.

“No, darlin’.”

He forced me to look up at him, his glowing blue eyes wicked and bright. “To make you worship your car.”

The possessiveness in his voice made my body clench. I looked at the shadow above me, my tongue out, presenting him with an invitation.