Page 29 of His Trick

His laugh was raw, broken around the chokehold, but dripping with smug satisfaction. “Want me? You need me, BabyBoy. You’re like a virgin who falls in love with the first person to fucking give them an orgasm. You are beneath me, Shiloh.”

I hated the way that shot through me, hated the way my cock ached against the press of his body. So I forced him lower, dragging him down the bark until he was kneeling in front of me. His smirk didn’t waver, even as his knees hit the dirt, my hold remaining strong in his thick, messy hair.

“Look at you now, Care Bear,” I spat, shoving his head back so he had to meet my gaze from the ground. “You are beneath me.”

His mouth curved into something feral and sinful. “Then why are you the one still trembling, Sunshine?”

My zipper groaned as I yanked it down, and for the first time, his breathing stuttered. I didn’t think of anything but maintaining my control over Carrington.

My desperate need to make him feel powerless.

He needed to know what he did to me in the haunted house. That is the only reason I was pulling my cock out of my pants and brutally shoving myself against his lips.

I just needed to see his smile fall. I needed him to know I was in fucking charge.

My fists stayed tangled in his hair, holding him there, my cock pulsating heat onto his pierced lips.

“Open,” I growled, jamming my shaft harder against his mouth.

He hesitated for a moment, his breathing calm and relaxed.

“I said fucking open your goddamn mouth, Carrington Harding.”

I didn’t let him look up at me. My fists were so twisted in his black hair that strands were falling out at my feet. His mouth slowly opened, and his tongue slid against me, slow and deliberate, like he was the one controlling the pace. His handsstayed loose at his sides, as if to say he didn’t even need to touch me to own me.

I tugged his hair back until his throat arched, until his mouth was stretched around my shaft, choking on my length. His lips were wet and fucking ruined, swollen from my size.

I’d won. I forced silence from the bastard.

But just as I let myself smile, my hands loosening ever so slightly, ready to pull myself free of his warm mouth, he looked up at me, his eyes glassy with tears from the pressure, and he fucking smiled around my cock.

And fuck me…my hips jerked forward harder, not leaving the warmth, seeking it. I was seeking the pleasure he was giving me. The way his damn tongue swirled my head skillfully. Better than any fucking woman ever had. I was losing my ability to breathe, my hands fumbling in his hair.

I hated him, but I hated myself more.

His throat worked around me like a porn star, gagging, deep throating as much as possible until a bulge appeared on the wavering snake.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned despite myself, yanking harder on his hair until his neck strained back at an impossible angle. Spit slicked down his chin, catching in the moonlight, and still he refused to fucking break.

“Fucking hell,” I growled as I forced his head forward, burying myself even deeper, punishing him for every smirk, every twisted fucking word spoken.

My hips slammed forward, desperate and reckless. My thighs trembled like a bitch as I used him for my pleasure.

“Take it,” I snarled through gritted teeth, my voice rough with desperation and hunger. “Fucking choke on me, you sick fuck.”

He laughed, not with sound, not with his ruined mouth full of me, unable to even breathe, his airway blocked with my cock so fully his eyes had tears streaming down them.

No.

He laughed with those fucking desert-colored eyes. Those wild, feral eyes stared up at me like he was worshiping the destruction he caused.

The bastard pressed his palms to his dirty thighs, tilting his head just enough to hollow his cheeks, sucking me in deeper.

He wanted me to lose this dangerous game we are playing. He wanted to prove that no matter how brutal I got, he could turn it into pleasure.

“Fuuuuck. Oh fuck. Stop it. Agh.”

My grip slipped from his hair to his throat again, squeezing until his face flushed dark, veins straining at his temples. He gagged harder, coughed louder, and drooled until we were both coated in the sticky mix of pre-come and saliva. He smiled around me, his hands reaching under to grip my balls, the action too damn much, and causing me to pant.