Page 58 of Shameless Royalty

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he groans, pulling off just long enough to lick at the tip, his hand stroking me in slow, teasing movements. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever had. Could keep you in my mouth all night.”

He’s back on my cock again, but this time I feel the tip of his finger swirling around my rim. I immediately tense up, but he doesn’t push in at all. He just continues to suck the soul out of me and I’m losing it. The heat, the pressure, the way his hands grip my thighs, holding me down so I can’t do anything but take it—it’s too much, too fucking good.

“Close,” I gasp, my hips twitching despite his hold. “Connor, I—fuck, I’m—”

He pulls back with a filthy pop, his lips swollen, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “You gonna come for me, baby?” he taunts, stroking me in the same fast motion as his mouth was on me. “Gonna give me what I want?”

“Fuck, yes,” I whimper, my head pressing back into the pillows. “Please, Connor—”

His smirk is pure sin before he leans down again, swallowing me whole, his throat tightening around me as he takes me to the back of his throat. I barely get out a broken moan before my body tenses, my orgasm slamming into me so hard I nearly black out.

Connor groans as I come, his hands gripping me tighter as he takes it all, milking every last drop out of me. I shudder, my body going limp beneath him, my fingers sliding from his hair to rest weakly on his shoulders.

He pulls off slowly, licking his lips, his gaze locking onto mine as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, crawling back up my body. He presses a slow, filthy kiss to my lips, claiming me without a shredof hesitation. I can taste myself on him, and it should disgust me, but it doesn’t. It just makes the fire in my chest burn hotter—makes me cling to him even tighter.

When he finally pulls away, his breath is warm against my lips, his smirk still firmly in place. “Taste that, Babyface?” he murmurs, his voice ruined. “Next time you deny yourself, I’m gonna punish you. And trust me, you’ll love every second of it. Still want to deny it?”

I shake my head, my chest heaving as I meet his gaze. “No,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it. “I can’t.”

“Good boy,” he praises me, his voice soft but dripping with satisfaction.

My body betrays me with those two words.Good boy.

A shiver runs through me, unbidden, and my hips twitch slightly as if I’m seeking something I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn with humiliation, and I clench my fists, furious at myself for the way I react to him, for the way my body wants more of what my brain knows I should hate.

But Connor notices. Of course, he does.

His green eyes gleam with mischief as his smirk widens. “Oh,” he drawls, “you like that, don’t you?”

I snap my head up, glaring at him. “Shut up,” I hiss, but my voice cracks, and I know I’ve already lost.

“Shut up?” he echoes, his grin twisting into something feral as his hand slides up to grip my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Babyface, don’t think for a second you can hide from me. I felt that.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie, it won’t end well for you,” he cuts me off. “I can see it all over your face.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing hard, but my silence only seems to egg him on.

“Do you want to hear it again?” he asks as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “You wanna know what a good boy you are for me?”

“I don’t,” I whisper, though the words feel hollow, even to me.

Connor chuckles low in his throat. “Liar,” he chuckles. “You’re a brat, but even brats want praise when they’ve been good.”

I grit my teeth, shaking my head, but he doesn’t let me go. His hands stay firm on my jaw, holding me in place, his gaze boring into mine like he can see every fucking thought in my head.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice dropping to a growl. “Or I’ll make you beg for it.”

My breath catches, and I hate the way my body reacts to his words, the way my chest tightens and my pulse quickens like I’m waiting for him to prove he can. I try to glare at him, try to push him away again, but this is fucking Connor Cunningham.

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “Say it, Malachi. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I…” My voice falters, my pride warring with the undeniable ache building inside me. “I want it. I want to hear it.”

He looks so fucking proud of me, and my heart seems to soar at the fact that I did something to make him look at me like that. For once, he’s not teasing, not smirking, not trying to get under my skin just to piss me off. He looks… genuine.

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