Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

“They’re from a movie,” Dane muttered, struggling to keep his voice low when Jag’s fingers rolled against the black fingers tattooed on his hip. From up close, Dan could sense the mild aroma of this guy’s sweat, along with his shampoo and some herbs, and his mind spun with images of his knees and elbows digging into the dirt while his magnificently muscular abductor pushed his way into him from behind.

Jag’s eyes darted to his, and the itch to knock off the man’s mask became as prominent as the pulsing of the blood draining to his junk.

“All of them? From one movie?” Jag’s touch was becoming more insistent when he realized Dane wasn’t about to slap his hand away, and he appeared to have forgotten the shower altogether.

Dane’s brain vibrated with heat. Maybe he could distract his captor and put his alertness to sleep for long enough to make a run for it? The collar and cuffs were both gone, and Dane was tall and strong. With a bit of luck, he might make it back to his family tonight, and there was no telling when an opportunity like this one could fall into his lap again.

Should he take the risk?

The hair on his nape bristled when Jag’s eyes met his from behind the featureless mask of a wasteland serial killer.

“Yes, it’s an… ensemble cast,” Dane uttered, as his thoughts retreated like the shore waters before a tsunami when images of Jag overpowering him and thrusting his dick up Dane’s ass without ever revealing his face filled his mind. A pervert like him didn’t deserve freedom to do as he pleased, and if it wasn’t for his family—

“How about I groom you?” Jag asked, halting Dane’s frantic thoughts. He sucked in air, as if trying to smell Dane through the mask, and the sound he made echoed in a way a normal human voice would not.

Oh God…

Jag’s cockhead brushed Dane’s thigh, sending shivers of arousal down his leg. Was Jag distracted enough yet? Or was it Dane’s brain that was getting thoroughly scrambled?

“Yes, that sounds good,” he managed, curling his toes as the cockhead pressed at the underside of his buttock. Every tendon in his body tightened, and he closed his eyes, attempting to imagine he wasn’t in danger, but when warm hands rolled down his shoulders, letting him sense every rough callous, keeping himself from trembling became a full-time job.

Seriously? Even after all the pain Rob had unleashed on him before dumping him for what he’d believed was certain death, his body remained attracted to danger? What the hell was wrong with him?

When Jag stepped away for half a second, Dane had to fight the urge to follow him despite being naked and helpless, with a man who intended to keep him like a stray dog.

When he’d first stepped under the impromptu shower, he'd expected water cold enough to wake him up to reality, but the rivulets dropping on him from the containers above were lukewarm. He blinked away the droplets that got into his eyes only to stiffen when a masculine body pressed against his back, and a rock-hard cock snuck its way between Dane’s buttocks, poking at his hole without warning.

Panic turned Dane’s body into an ice sculpture, and he didn’t dare move when Jag wrapped his arms around him and ran his hands all the way up to Dane’s pecs with a satisfied purr. If Dane played along and satisfied Jag’s desires, would an escape become any more feasible than it was now?

Jag wouldn’t be the first man to fall asleep right after taking his pleasure. And within that moment of freedom, Dane might find an opportunity to—

Fuck. No. It was just his brain fucking with Dane because his body cared more for lust than it did for safety.

“You’ve got no idea how long I waited for a man like you,” Jag groaned, and began rocking his stiff cock against Dane’s hole, as if they were on their honeymoon, not in the middle of a sexual assault.

The mask pressed against the back of Dane’s shoulder as if to remind him that this wasn’t his fantasy, and the sun shone on the two of them as water cooled his skin, drizzling down Dane’s skull and back like caressing fingers that were only there to aid Jag in his immoral seduction.

“Man like me?” Dane uttered, freaked out that his own cock was filling in response to the molestation.

Jag grunted and rutted against him with more fervor, turning Dane’s crack into his fuck sleeve. “Yes… Big. Strong. So uniquely colored. With a beautiful ass. And all mine.”

While Dane was aware that bigger, meatier guys like him had their admirers, no one had ever called his plump ass beautiful. He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or run.

“Oh… and what is it that you’re planning to do with me?” Dane asked, trying to form coherent thoughts in the buzzing jamble of his brain.