Page 91 of Knight

“I know who killed your father,” I smirk. “And now I know it wasn’t me.”

His eyes flick back to my gaze and he smirks right back. Like he’s proud. “Are you threatening me, Medusa?”

“Is that what you want to call it?” I position my tits so it catches the water just right. I want him to drool over the way the water glistens down my body like a dipped strawberry.

He chuckles, inhaling a deep breath before his hand comes to my throat. “It would be hot if my life wasn’t on the line.” He stares me in the eye and it gives me chills. He thinks I’m at his mercy but he’s about to be at mine. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Medusa?” He steps into the shower, clothes and all, and we’re trapped together again.

“Tell me who did it and I won’t,” I say.

He keeps a light grip, the air still able to pass but he brings his head closer, his dark hair drenched. “Are you fucking with me, Rowland?” His eyes narrow, brows knitting together and I know he’s trying to figure me out but it’s time for my big distraction.

My hand goes to his cock and as I suspect, he’s already raging hard through his jeans. My clit throbs but, fuck, I need to stay focused. Bringing my head as close to him as I can with his hand around my throat, I bite into his lip before I speak against them, “Maybe I am.” His zipper’s slippery from the water but I get down, the smell of my coconut body wash mixing with his scent.

“Careful,” he says, that voice like a low, growling warning.

“I can’t promise I will be.” Grabbing his cock through his boxers, he releases a breath against my lips. It gets harder in my hand and I’m starting to crave seeing Damien at my mercy. I’m always at his, but this changes and it changes now. “Are you going to play nice?”

A grunt escapes his lips. He loosens his grip around my neck when I start sliding my wet palms up and down his long shaft. “Fuck, Jo,” he groans. “Are you?”

Bringing my lips to his, he reaches forward, almost touching it. “No,” I say before I slither to my knees. I’m face to face with his cock. It glistens from the shower like a sparkling royal staff and I’m reminded how beautiful this beast is … and how big. Tilting my head to the side I’m wondering how I’m going to fit this all in. I get a taste, flicking my tongue against the tip and it gets a groan out of him.

“Tell me what you know.” I give his pecker sweet little pecks.

He growls, his hand coming through my wet curls, “Don’t be a tease.”

“I won’t tease if you won’t.” I give him that slow, sexy voice I know he likes, but that makes him grip my hair tighter. I run my tongue down his shaft, smooth and long. “Let’s play fair, King.” He groans, his cock twitching. He loves it when I call him that. Opening wide, my tongue covers the head of his dick before I take him in my mouth.

His hand lands against the shower and he loosens the grip on my hair to pull his t-shirt off. Glancing up, my body betrays me. The feeling of his throbbing cock on my tongue, while I’m looking up at who may as well be a god, is sinful. I know I’m wet but I ignore it.

Unfortunately, that’s a task almost harder than he is.

“Jesus, Jo,” he groans and now I’m realizing why we don’t do this more often. If Damien’s cock inside me turns me into putty, his cock in my mouth seems to do the same trick to him. “You’re not playing fair at all.” That gratifying moment of having him in my control disappears when his dominant side comes back to play. With one hard thrust, he shoves his cock in my mouth, my eyes springing open when it hits the back of my throat.

“This what you want?” he grunts, keeping my head in place as he fucks my mouth. “You want my hard cock in your dirty little mouth?” Slobber and spit spill down his shaft, dripping onto the shower floor and down the drain. “God, you’re so fucking good.”

That’s right. Praise me.

He starts pumping in my mouth harder and I’m working my tongue, giving him my all. If this is going to work, I’m gonna have to give him the blowie of his life. He gets harder, his pace getting frantic. “Holy fuck … ” he groans and I know he’s almost there. So I stop, taking his soft, heavy balls in my hands, rolling them around.

Looking down at me his bluish greys fill with lust and want. While it stirs me inside and makes me want nothing more than for Damien to bend me over and take me, I look up at him and flutter my eyes. “Are you going to tell me? Or are these things going to turn blue?”

He smirks and it’s as if he likes seeing this side to me, as manipulative and power-hungry as he is. “You’re as evil as I am, Jo.”

I am and if he’s not going to tell me this ends right here. I’m about to get up from my knees but he holds my head. I look up at him, “If you want to know how it feels to have your cum drip down my throat with your cock still in my mouth, you should let me know. Who was it?”

“It—” His words cut short when my lips wrap around his shaft again and I swear I see his knees almost buckle. “Fuck, Jo.” I’m going faster, moving in tandem with his thrusts and I’m slowing down when he doesn’t answer. “Fuuuck me.” He looks down at my smirk. “You’re serious.”

Rising from my knees, I don’t have to answer for him to get the gist.

“Jesus. Alright.” He bites his lip, taking a moment before he says, “A student. At ERA. But that’s all I know.”

The fuck … “A student?” My brows furrow. “How do you know?”

The look on his face tells me he’s about to burst but he keeps his voice smooth. “Found some more stuff in the office after you left.” With his hand on the top of my head, he pushes me down to my knees and I hate that I like it. Hate that I like being down here, right in front of the King’s staff. “Now, take my fucking load before I come all over that pretty face.” He’s weaker than I thought. I give him what he wants and he fucks my mouth until his words go hoarse.

It’s not long before his cum fills my mouth and I almost choke at how much he pumps into me. But it seems he likes it because his cock throbs even more when I take it. He tastes sweet. Like a tangy fruit and it makes it easy to swallow while he’s still in my mouth. And boy, does that shit drive him over the edge.

“Fuck, Jo,” he says, his voice breathless, palm on the wall. Water drips down his body like a Greek statue in the rain as he helps me up.

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