Page 33 of Wicked Games

Killian’s stare is intense as he watches me, and for some fucked-up reason, my body tightens.

The combination of not being able to breathe and feeling his big, powerful body against mine is too much for my oxygen-starved senses, and my cock grows hard against his hip as a low hum of pleasure buzzes through every part of me.

Killian laughs, low and raspy, and presses against my cock. “My, my, my. Is little Fefeintothis?” He arches one eyebrow and pushes harder against my dick.

My eyes flutter closed as a rush of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt hits out of nowhere.

“Look at me,” he orders, loosening his hold on my neck so I can pull in some air.

I force my eyes open.

He’s studying me like I’m some sort of science experiment. “You like this,” he says, a smirky smile on his full lips.

He pulls his arm off my throat, but before I can do more than suck in a desperate breath, he wraps his hand around it and presses against my windpipe.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asks, his lips next to my ear again.

I shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin and sets off another flurry of tingles and good feels that light me up from the inside.

“There’s a way to do this that feels even better.” He shifts his hand so instead of squeezing my windpipe, he’s compressing the arteries on either side of my neck.

Instinctively, I pull in a gasping breath. A strange, floaty feeling settles over me, but instead of dulling the world around me, everything explodes in a burst of color and light.

His chuckle is low and throaty as he grinds against my dick again, and the bolt of pleasure that tears through me chases every thought from my mind other than one.

More.

I draw in another gasping breath, and my eyes roll back in my head as he slides his hand between our bodies and cups me.

“You’re so hard.” He palms my cock through my clothes.

I buck into his touch, unable to stop myself as more of that delicious pleasure hits me.

“I bet it wouldn’t take much to make you come.” He slips his hand under my sweatpants and loosely grips my dick through my briefs.

My hips move of their own accord as I try to rock against him, desperate for even the slightest bit of friction.

He laughs again and squeezes me hard enough that I’m momentarily frozen by the pain.

Killian relaxes the pressure on my arteries and gently presses on my windpipe. I can’t do more than draw in short, shallow breaths that are barely enough to keep me conscious, and a rush of sensation hits at the sudden switch.

Stars explode in my vision, and I arch into him, desperate for more, but I have no idea what to ask for.

“You love this.” He gives me a few rough strokes, and the fabric of my briefs scrapes painfully against my skin. “Who knew you were such a freak under your perfect robot facade?”

I don’t even pretend to fight as he slides his hand into my briefs and grips my cock.

“Imagine if people knew what a little slut you are?” There’s something different about his voice. There’s heat in it, an almost sultry undertone that’s way hotter than it has any business being. “What do you think they’d say if they knew you didn’t just let your stepbrother get you off while choking you out, but you fucking loved it?”

A low moan rumbles out of me, and I’m too disoriented to even begin to try to unpack how fucked up it is that his words are affecting me almost as much as what he’s doing to me.

“I bet they’d call you a slut.” He gives me a long, slow stroke. “Are they wrong?”

I glare at him, or at least I try to. I’m not sure it hits because he just chuckles and lets go of my dick.

My cry of protest turns into one of surprise as he jams his thigh between my legs and grinds it against my oversensitive dick.

“Go ahead,” he urges, lifting his leg so I’m balanced on my tip toes as he uses his body to pin me against the wall. “Rub off on me.” He shifts his thigh so it grinds against my dick in a way that sets off another rush of pleasure. “You know you want to.”

---