Page 89 of Worse Than Wicked
“I bet he could.”
I shake my head slowly. “No. Maybe the opposite. You could play him for longer by turning off your emotion and pretending you’re as emotionless as he is. But the one thing he can’t do is feel.”
“He could pretend to feel.”
“He does,” I point out. “But something is missing, and without you, he wouldn’t really know how to fake it. Not for long. He looks to you for that. For how to be human.”
“A king doesn’t need to be human,” he says. “What’s that ever gotten anyone?”
“Belonging,” I say. “Membership in the pack.”
“That’s not enough. A king has to be the best. And everyone else needs to be useful, productive. I’m nothing but extra weight for you and him. What does a duke even do?”
I glance at the door to make sure we’re still alone. “He rules once the king is gone.”
Duke stares at me a long second. “What are you saying?”
“What are you saying?” I ask carefully.
“I’m not saying anything,” he says, scowling at me. “Are you trying to trap me? Because it won’t work. I’m not as dumb as you think.”
“I know you’re not dumb,” I say. “I never thought that. I think you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for. Just as smart as Baron. You just use it in a different way than he does.”
“What’s your angle?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “No one thinks that.”
“I think you know people, and you use that to your advantage.”
He scoffs. “And how do you imagine I’m doing that? When have I ever had an advantage?”
“You’re sitting here pouting, saying you didn’t get your way,” I point out. “Except you did. You got us to go back to Faulkner. You got Baron to make amends with Royal, and if I had my guess, you got Royal and Harper to accept whatever meager apology he might have made. You think they did that for him?”
“And you’re doing… What? Calling my bluff?”
“No,” I say. “I know how important it is for you to be able to go home too. I’m just saying, I never count you out, Duke. I don’t think you should, either.”
I stand to leave, but he snags my hand. “No,” he says. “Get on the bed.”
There’s something mean in him, a hard glint in his eyes, and I wonder not for the first time if I’ll ever really know when they play each other’s part.
I swallow hard, then force myself to obey.
“Go on,” he says, nodding to my legs. “Take those off.”
“I haven’t showered,” I say, though I know that won’t deter him. “We were in the car all day.”
He doesn’t even answer. I steel myself and obey, quickly shedding my clothes. He smiles, pleased with my compliance. Then he scoots back, unzips, and pulls out his cock. He lays there stroking it, watching me, one arm tucked behind his head.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks, dragging his fist up his shaft to the tip. “Come get me wet. Unless you want me to go in dry. Since I’m so much like Baron.”
“I didn’t say that,” I say faintly. “I said you were just as smart.”
“Smart enough to know you hate it more when it doesn’t hurt,” he says. “So get up here and slobber on my cock until it can slide right in. In fact, you can sit on my face while you do it. That’ll guarantee you feel good.”
I hesitate, then climb onto the bed. He drags my hips up, turning me around and pulling me down on his face. His mouth is hot and hungry, and a shiver of pleasure rolls through me. I hate it.
I quickly lean over, taking him into my mouth. I hate doing this too. But at least it distracts me from the relentless stroke and thrust of his tongue, so I can almost pretend he’s not there, not touching me. I grip his shaft and take him deep into my mouth, sucking at his soft skin, the hard ridges of muscle beneath.
“That’s it,” he says. “Suck me off just like your brother. He likes to choke on it, so don’t be afraid to go a little deeper and gag.”
