Page 42 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

My hand runs up the hard ridge of him through his sweatpants.

I lean in, kissing his crown feeling him grow behind the soft fabric.

Slowly I work them down mid thigh. I lean in, dragging my nose against the cloth of his briefs and breathing in the musky sweet scent of him.

Impatient, I shove his briefs and pants down and watch him spring out.

Hot and hard. Precum beads at his slit, I can't help myself catching it with my tongue. My fingers lace around his girth, I swipe my tongue along his head before licking under the soft skin of his cock as I pull his foreskin back. I love that he’s uncut.

I love the noises he makes when I suck him into my mouth and play with his crown.

My tongue dips into his slit and I drink the guttural groan that leaves him.

I look up and watch the watery gaze of his eyes as he watches me. Fuck he tastes good.

“Pick a safe word, Dre.”

I pop him out of my mouth. “Why?”

“Just pick one.”

“Um . . . Pop Tart.”

“Really? Pick something normal,” he grinds out.

“What? I hate Pop Tarts and I love your dick. Something will have to go real fucking south for me to say Pop Tart.” I smile, loving the way I work him up.

“Believe me, Oli, it’s going to take a lot for me to actually need one.

” I love the pain—crave it in fact. I can still feel the straps of that belt as he choked me.

I still feel a bit sore from the car, but I don’t care.

I need this man to shut up and fuck me already.

“Come on, Oli. Fuck me, and don’t stop until I’ve told you to stop. ”

Kuli flexes, those muscles bunching and tightening like a fucking buffet for me to feast on. Dark tattoos roll over his tan skin. “Get naked. Now.” Under his scrutiny, I listen, just ready to focus on something that isn’t the war inside me.

I tug down my sweats, then yank off my shirt.

I stand naked and bathe in Oli’s eyes as he looks over me.

I’ve always liked men—the way they look, the way they smell.

I wonder what it’s like for him? Has he always known he was queer?

Or am I his first? I’m not sure how he identifies, but I do know that the heat in his gaze right now belongs to me .

Only me. I try to shove back the possessiveness. Oli will never really be mine, and I hate how much that thought makes my stomach twist. “Like what you see?” I rasp, giving my cock a slow tug.

His eyes lift to mine, and I think I see uncertainty in them before it’s wiped away and replaced with white-hot need. Oli pulls his pants off completely and I nearly groan. Or I do, audibly, if the smug look on Kuli’s face tells me anything.

His cock is just . . . insane. Thick, not as long as mine, but thicker, with veins running along it.

My ass clenches. I swallow, and my throat craves a bruising.

I’m his to command, his to use. I love the direction, the demands.

When I’m with Oli I don’t have to think or second-guess.

I just want to sink into myself as he sinks into me.

There’s no room to disappoint when you’re told what to do.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to push his buttons.

It’s what I’m best at. “Are you going to stare or are you going to get on your knees like a good fucking boy?” He shocks me, shoving me backwards, and I don’t have time to catch myself as I crash against the bed.

I should be shocked at the violence, but my cock jumps.

I crave it. Kuli smiles at me, and it’s a wicked, beautiful thing.

It’s all teeth that are surprisingly still his own.

He grins like a hyena who’s found easy prey to toy with.

His eyes dip down to my dick with a smirk, seeing exactly what he does to me. He’s so cocky. “I hate you.”

“Yet here we are. Hard as fuck.” His eyes ignite. He cups my dick, squeezing it hard, and I cry out, pushing him back. It’s no use. “Filthy little slut. Huh? I bet you’d drop to your knees with a snap of my fingers. Greedy, messy little whore. ”

Oh my god, why is that doing it for me? I am his greedy whore. Heat pools in my groin. I’m in no way little, but that’s how I feel next to him. “I’m falling asleep. Fuck me already.”

Oli leans in, gripping my chin in his hand. He glares at me hard for a moment before his lips twist in a smirk and he slaps the side of my face. I groan, drinking in the sharp sting. “Get on your knees, zayka .”

“What? What does that mean?!”

“None of your business.” His grins is feral. “Now get. On. Your. Knees.” I’m desperate so I do as I’m told. Normally I love the banter, love the back and forth and words thrown between us, but I just need him. I swallow hard. I’m too afraid of what that means.

It’s just today, it’s just everything between us fucking up my head.

That’s all. I sink to my knees, needing the noise to just stop.

Oli steps closer to me and I can’t help drinking him in.

Heavy cock, strong powerful thighs, a tapered waist, strong arms and chest—he looks like sin incarnate.

He looks like a fucking god standing before me.

And I’m starting to forget that he may be the devil.

Giving himself a long stroke, he cups his balls, staring down at me. “Stick out that greedy tongue.” Part of me wants to challenge him, but a bigger part of me needs him more than I need fucking air in my lungs. So I listen, hating myself and the desperation I feel.

I wait with my tongue out as he slowly strokes his cock, squeezing the head. I watch precum bead at his slit before it drips down, and I wait eagerly as the tangy liquid falls onto my tongue.

“Oh,” I moan, savoring it.

“Open up.” Opening my lips, he feeds me his cock, and the weight of it gliding inside my mouth feels so fucking good.

I moan around his thickness, feeling him slide over my tongue before hitting the back of my throat.

Fisting my hair, he holds me there, driving himself further back until my nose presses against his pubes.

I choke and gag, slap his thighs in a poor attempt to get him to stop, but Oli just laughs darkly, knowing I love every fucking minute.

He rocks his hips as I suck and swallow around him.

Sloppy slurping sounds echo around the room.

I look up and catch the needy look in his eyes, and it sets me on fire.

He tastes so good, so so fucking good. I can’t believe this is real.

Finally he let’s up, guiding me off his cock.

Spit dribbles from my lips, and the flushed red crown is soaked with it.

Oli Kulivov has the most gorgeous dick that has ever graced this earth.

I’m sure of it. He wrenches my head back, and my scalp stings.

I’ve thought about cutting my hair lately, but the grip he has on it makes me second-guess that.

I do love my hair, it reminds me of my mother’s, but it’s hot as fuck in the helmet.

I grab his thighs, but instead of pushing him back, I force more of him down my throat.

I want it to burn. I don’t want to be able to speak tomorrow.

Oli gets the hint, fucking into my mouth in rough short thrusts, then yanks me off his cock.

I look up. Precum connects his cockhead with my lips and I’m so fucking needy.

I can’t help myself, and I lick up his shaft.

I need more. I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill of him.

The sweetest drug I’ve ever taken. “Filthy,” he purrs.

“Oli, I’m losing my fucking mind. I need it.”

Something passes through his blue eyes, but I ignore it. I don’t need more judgment. I just need my brain to shut off and my thoughts to drown. “Stand up.” I rise to my feet obediently. I’m not in the mood to push back anymore today. Oli walks slowly to me.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re taking your sweet fucking time, that’s what. Hurry up!”

My eyes dip to his cherry-red lips, and something dark passes over his gaze, fogging those clear eyes. He goes somewhere far away before he focuses back on the here and now. “No.”

“Yes,” I demand. I want all of him. I need every piece of him shutting off my fucking brain. I want to feel him, every part of him. Oli moves on me, and I half expect him to punch me. Instead, he shoves me back onto the bed.

“Why can’t you just fucking listen to me?” he snarls. I’m so aware of his body on top of me as the heat from his skin pours into mine. He pins me down with his hand. His hips straddle my waist. His cock lies on my stomach making a mess. He’s dripping.

Shock slaps me with Oli’s lips mashing hard against mine.

I can’t even say it’s a kiss. It’s brutal, sloppy.

I moan unabashedly into his mouth. This isn’t kissing, this is an attack on my senses.

Lips. Teeth. Tongue. Oli gives me everything.

A metallic tang spreads on my tongue. Shit, is that blood?

I wipe my mouth, feeling the sting. Shit, he must have split my lip kissing me.

That should not turn me on. “I love watching you break.”

Oli isn’t most men. He’s not even some men.

Oli is . . . Oli.

“Oh, Oli, it takes a lot for me to break.” Though I don’t mind letting him try.

His lips crash back over mine. My own feel swollen. Blood smears over Oli’s lips and I can’t stop myself from reaching out to wipe it away. “You drive me crazy, Dre,” he whispers. I soak in those words. I take them and tuck them somewhere safe, then remind myself that this is nothing. I am nothing.

I ignore the twinge in my gut.

“Yeah?” I lick my split lip. “Prove it.” Oli lunges back into me, connecting our lips.

His cock presses against my own and I lose myself in the taste of him as my hands wrap around his back.

My nails dig into his flesh. He picks me up, and the strength of him shocks me silent.

I don’t know why. I know he’s a fucking powerhouse, but still, I’m not small, and the way he carries me around to the end of the bed with ease excites me.