Page 46 of The King of Hearts

“Not how this works,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. “I order, you obey. Learn your place, Vicious.”

Panic sets in when his fingers tighten around my throat, but I force myself to stop struggling. It’ll get me nowhere. However, I do keep one of my hands wrapped around his wrist, going so far as digging my nails into his skin until the sharp edges threaten to pierce flesh. It has to sting, but he shows no sign of pain.

We glare at each other. Him behind his mask and me with defiant eyes. I don’t back down, and neither does he. Not that I expected him to.

“You know what I think?” he asks after a moment. He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before my feet are swept out from under me, and I’m lying flat on the damp ground. He hovers over me with his hand still wrapped around my throat, his knees on either side of my hips. His grip has loosened a fraction, just enough for me to barely suck in little gaps of air. “I think you like being a bad girl because you want to be punished. You want me to hurt you.”

I shake my head, even though a little niggle in the back of my mind says he’s right.

“Lying will get you nowhere, my vicious little angel. It’ll only make your punishment harsher.”

By his guess, itwillget me somewhere. If I like pain, as he says, why wouldn’t I defy him to earn more?

I keep that thought to myself.

Using the grip he has on my throat, he turns my head to the side. He drops his mask-covered face, and I feel the coolness of the plastic touch my neck.

What in the hell is he doing?

But then I feel it.

His lips.

I try to turn my head to get a glimpse of him, but his hold tightens again.

“Stay fucking still,” he growls.

I freeze at the harsh demand, and a fissure of fear tingles through me.

I feel something scrape across my neck, and I realize it’s the edge of his mask. He hasn’t taken it all the way off. Only lifted it enough so his mouth is accessible.

His tongue swipes across my collarbone, and the moan that comes out of my mouth at the sensual contact sounds all wrong because his hand is still around my throat, and I can barely draw in air to do it properly.

God, that felt good.

“You taste like fucking apples,” he groans. “Fuji apples and honey.”

It feels like there’s a thousand tiny electric shocks singeing my body, and the pinpoint is right where his lips are.

I lift my hands, wanting to put them somewhere on his body. I need to touch him anywhere and everywhere. Under his clothes. I want to feel his skin against my palms, to touch the hard ridges of his muscles and feel them ripple.

I’ve barely grazed the sleeves of his hoodie with one hand when my wrist is suddenly caught and yanked above my head. My other wrist is brought up so he can grip both with one of his big hands. It’s not until my air supply is restricted again that I realize he let go of my throat, and I missed my opportunity to try and look at him.

“Follow the fucking rules, Vicious,” he barks in my ear.

A moment later, there’s a sharp pain in the crook of my neck. It’s so piercing that I let out a garbled scream, and I jerk beneath him.

Jesus, that fucking hurt.

Then why in the hell are your thighs so wet?my mind mocks.

He licks the spot like he’s trying to soothe away the sting, and then he sucks the skin into his mouth. I can’t help it, and I don’t even care that it may get me in trouble. My hips lift off of the ground, seeking some form of stimulation. My legs are locked closed by his knees on either side of me, so it’s not like I can press my pussy against him.

“Oh, shit,” I moan as best as I can. “Oh, Go?—”

My words are cut off when he takes away what little air he allowed me. His grip is so tight around my neck that I feel like my eyes are bulging and my face fills with blood. There’s not an ounce of give, and black spots dance across my vision.

“What did I say about that, baby? The only god that exists for you is the one with his dick pressed against your pussy right now.Iam your god and Master. The only fucking one you’ll worship and pray to.”

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