Page 124 of King of Hollywood

“Would you like me to turn you like this?” he asked softly as I tipped my head to the side, bending my knees to give him more room. “Or…” his lips dragged back up to my ear, his breath fluttering along the shell of it and making me twitch.

“Or?”

“Would you like to be turned…when this big—” One of his hands found my cock and gave it a firm squeeze. “Delicious cock…” Another squeeze. I whined, rough and needy, rutting into his hand like a senseless beast. “Is inside me?”

“Inside, inside, inside,” I chanted—uncaring that I sounded like an absolute idiot as I did. My voice was throaty and vibrating with need as Felix pulled back. His grin was infectious. Delicious. Intimidating in a way that made me hard enough to pound nails.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He softened his grip on my very hard, very needy cock and I sobbed. “Pretty, capable Marshall,” Felix clucked his tongue. “Reduced to a dog in heat the moment he catches my scent.”

“Fuck.”

“It’ll be different,” Felix warned, leading me by my cock, gently pushing on it and backing me toward the couch. “When you’re turned.”

“It…will?”

“Your senses will be heightened.” His palm pushed more firmly against my aching dick.

Following his prompting, I backed up another step, already panting for him. My gaze snapped from his face, to his throat, imagining what it would feel like to actually be able to break skin. Then it traveled across his shoulders—so fucking pretty in his white tuxedo—down his tiny waist. I licked my lips, imagining those legs spread around me, my cock pistoning inside him. Our hips slapping. The sound was obscene enough that picturing it alone was enough to make me blush.

“You’ll feel…everything.” Felix loosened his grip and I sobbed, burying my head in his lemony hair. Electricity zapped down my spine when he moved again, his hand shifting till one of his nails scraped teasingly over my slit through the tight fabric of my dress pants.

“E-Everything,” I echoed, trying to pretend like I was listening when all I could think about was yanking his pants down, throwing him against the wall, and shoving myself in dry.

Felix gently tapped at my balls at the same time my calves hit the base of the couch. “Look at you,” Felix purred, kicking my legs open wider so his fingers could creep back farther. He squeezed my balls and my eyes rolled back. “Always led by your dick when I’m around.”

My chest heaved, and Felix laughed—a low musical sound.

It wasn’t mean.

But it was delicious.

I liked it when he got rough like this. Liked it when he bit, when he grabbed, when he forced me to do exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. I may be the one that fucked him, but there was no denying who exactly was in charge here.

“Even on our wedding night,” Felix added, and he sounded amused. His other hand rose up, curling over my jaw, tipping my head to the side so he could stare at my throat. He’d always used to do that—stare—before I even knew what he was. I just hadn’t known why.

Now that I did, the movement grew even more tantalizing.

A predator, sizing up his prey.

My beautiful little monster.

“Your heart is racing,” Felix murmured, thumb skimming down the length of my throat so he could trace the veins. “Are you scared?”

“No,” I gasped out.

He grinned. “I didn’t think so.”

And then he was tightening his grip on my cock and urging me back. Like a puppet, I fell backward onto the couch, legs spread, my cock still clutched in his grip. Held captive by the only man I’d ever loved more than myself.

“Oh…Marshall.” Felix groaned, sliding into my lap—his rightful place. He looked…god, he looked like sin, dressed in white—like his hands weren’t as blood-stained as mine. He peered at me through his lashes, red eyes luminescent because he was freshly fed. “I own you,” Felix murmured, lips dragging over the corner of my jaw, over to my ear. “Don’t I?”

“You do,” I gasped out, my cock weeping, ruining my suit pants. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“My husband,” Felix purred and I whined, hips jerking into his grip. “My big, loyal guard dog.” I grit my teeth, trying not to openly sob even though I wanted to. “The love of my life.”

“Forever,” I promised.

“Forever,” he agreed, and then—his hands were deftly flicking the button on my pants open, sliding my zip down—and oh. Oh fuck. Yes. Yes. I jolted into his touch, cock angry and red where it peeped out of my clothing. Felix fanned his fingers along it, sliding them down to wrap around the root, before dragging up, up, up. My head tossed back, the scratchy glide of his cool palm sending me spinning.

---