Page 153 of King of Pain

“Say it again,” I beg, low and heated.

He snickers and pokes my chest. “You. Are. Going. To. Be.” He leans in, brushes his lips against mine, and whispers, “My first everything.”

“Say the last part too.”

He smiles, knowing he’s got me exactly where he wants me. “Baby.”

I groan, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Ok. Brace yourself, Beautiful.”

He nods, eyes glittering with anticipation.

“Don’t feel bad if you don’t last—it’s your first time, and trust me, my mouth is a wild ride.”

“Chance?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking and suck my cock already.”

I drop to my knees faster than I’ve ever moved in my entire goddamn life.

Ant reaches for the button of his slacks.

I bat his hands away and look up at him, breath shallow. “No,” I murmur. “That’s mine to unwrap.”

I’ve waited years for this moment. Fantasized about it in too many ways to count. I’ve seen glimpses—brief flashes of him in towels, the stretch of denim over that colossal dick as it clung for dear life to his thigh, the occasional low-slung waistband that nearly killed me. But this? This is the full reveal. The unfiltered version of the man who has haunted my every waking thought.

I eye his growing bulge and pop open the button of his rain-soaked slacks slowly, savoring the moment. Sliding his zipper down, I savor the tension as the metal teeth part. I shove the wet material down his muscular thighs, and—

Holy hell.

A massive bulge strains against the black boxer briefs that are the only barrier between me and gay nirvana. My mouth waters in anticipation. Ant’s chest is rising and falling rapidly. I’m sure he’s barely hanging on himself.

I let my hands trace up the outsides of his thighs, feeling the twitch of muscle beneath my fingers, the anticipation in every inch of him. I hook my fingers into the waistband and begin to tug them down—slowly, carefully, teasingly.

Inch after glorious inch comes into view and I swear, it just keeps going. Finally, it pops free to say hello, staring me down like a challenge—because it is. Like everything else about him, it’s beautiful and bigger than life. Long. Thick. Impossibly perfect. I stare for a second, completely in awe.

“My God, Ant.”

His gasps lightly and I watch his throat bob, swallowing over a lump of what must be nerves and lust. My hand moves on instinct, wrapping around the base, just to feel the girth and theheat of him. He shudders at the touch, and I glance up, catching the fire in his eyes—the way he’s looking at me as if I’m the only thing tethering him to this moment.

I shift forward, unable to wait a second longer. I press my lips to his skin, just above his hip, and feel him tense.

We’re both trembling.

Ant’s eyes flare as I lean back.

I open my mouth, stick out my tongue, and let the head of his cock rest on it—just to get a taste. To feel the weight of it.

A drop of precum hits my tongue.

I groan, pulling back to savor it, swallowing it down like the first sip of something I’ve been parched for far too long. Memorizing it.

Ant doesn't mutter a word.

I pop the head into my mouth and start to suck, slow and steady, taking a little more with every pull. I’m not sure evenmydeep throat skills can handle this goliath, but I volunteer as tribute.

Ant gasps above me, the sound shooting straight through to the base of my spine.