Page 158 of King of Pain
I reach for him, needing to touch him, to ground myself, and he grabs my wrists, places them firmly on his head.
I huff a quiet laugh, running my fingers through his thick hair.He likes that.
He lets the head pop free, looks up at me with those electric blue eyes, and murmurs, “Now fuck my throat.”
Gladly.
One swift glide, and he takes me all the way down. My hips jerk, my thighs flex. He hums, savoring every inch, then starts moving—slow drag, tight pull, tongue twisting and sucking with deliberate rhythm.
“Jesus… that tongue,” I groan, threading my fingers tighter into his hair and guiding him back down to the base.
My spine tingles and my balls tighten. I’m not going to last. I feel it building fast and hard, everything winding up to snap.
He senses it. Starts stroking my shaft with one hand, syncing every glide with his mouth.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp. My grip tightens.
He nods—his way of telling me to let go.
Don't have to tell me twice.
I push his head down, hips rising slightly off the bed as I spill into his throat. He takes every drop like he’s starving for it.
Without a flinch. Not even a gag.
I collapse back onto the mattress, chest heaving, heart pounding out of rhythm.
Completely, utterly, undone.
Chance pops his head out from half under the sheet, looking way too smug for a man who just destroyed me before breakfast. He licks his lips dramatically and says with a wink, “I love when they give you extra gravy.”
I laugh so hard I nearly fall off the bed.
I shove at his shoulders playfully. “Yeah, well, they forgot the biscuits, so get out of bed and walk slowly into the bathroom so I can peruse the menu.”
Chance grins and jumps out of bed, deliberately putting on a show, flexing every muscle he’s got, making a productionout of walking toward the bathroom, that gorgeous ass on full display.
At the doorway, he turns—cock hard, grin filthy—and holds out a hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s go work up an even bigger appetite.”
I slide out of the bed and take his hand.
Chance leads me into his master bath. Like the rest of the condo, it's not lacking in the luxury department. Gorgeous tilework from floor to ceiling, a tall, sleek vanity and—
“Ooh, that shower could be fun,” I tease, lowering my voice.
Chance winks as he lets go of my hand and reaches into the massive walk-in shower and cranks the handle. The rainfall head kicks on, water cascading from above as steam fills the space. Multiple side sprayers activate a second later, turning the glass enclosure into a clouded haven.
I eye the shower with appreciation. It's roomy and luxurious with all sleek marble and brushed gold hardware.
Then I look at my prize.
Pure muscle and tattoos. That big, hard dick pointing right at me. Fucking perfect.
He steps under the water first, groaning at the heat, and I follow, letting the warmth drench my skin. Chance grabs the body wash, lathers it between his palms, and starts running them over my chest in slow, smooth strokes that turn possessive in seconds.
“You didn’t get off yet,” I murmur.
“You don't have to—”
