Page 78 of Gilded Fake

Heat stabs into the base of my spine, and I swear I could cum just hearing her say those words. Then she smirks up at me, wraps her cold fingers around my wet shaft, and draws my tip back into her mouth. She sucks rhythmically, teasing the bundle of nerves at the base of the head with her tongue, putting pressure on the barbels through it, first in one direction and then the other. But it’s the sight of her kneeling there in beautiful ruin, her teary eyes blinking up at me, the corners of those maddening pink lips slanting upwards, that undoes me.

I grip her chin and her hair, holding her head still, and release into her mouth with a loud groan that echoes around the small cavern. Gloria purrs with pleasure, sucking harder, and I feel her throat working as she drinks it down. Pleasure ripples up my body, my cock expands again, and more cum floods into her mouth. She closes her eyes and lets out a soft moan as she swallows me again.

“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling out of her mouth. A string of cum and saliva trails from my tip to her lips before it breaks, dribbling to the floor.

Gloria wipes her chin on the back of her hand and smiles up at me, her face still a mess of mascara and tears. She licks her lips, leaving a shiny glaze of cum over them. I groan and thumb her lips, smearing it around and then pushing into her mouth. “Suck it off.”

She obeys, then leans in, running her tongue up my softening length. “Can I clean you up?”

“Goddamn, you really are a demon queen.”

She just smirks and kneels up, lapping along my shaft and then sucking the last drops from my tip before she sits back on her knees on the concrete floor.

“Your throat okay?” I ask, zipping my dick back into my jeans.

“Nothing that a few days’ time won’t fix,” she says, her tongue poking into the corner of her lips, gathering up the last traces of my cum.

I groan and grab her under the arms, lifting her to her feet. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy. You make me lose my mind.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she says with a sly little grin.

“Depends on the day.”

“I’d better go clean up,” she says, wiping her grimy hand on her jeans. “We should get to class.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I return the favor,” I growl.

“We’ll be late,” she protests, stepping backwards.

“Are you saying you don’t want me to lick your pretty little pussy until you beg like a dog for more?”

She draws a sharp breath, taking another step towards the stairs. “We don’t have time.”

“We have time,” I say. “Now get on your back on the stairs, open your legs, and let me remind you how a king treats his queen.”

We miss first period, but we make it to the next hour, sneaking into the back of the auditorium to watch the presentations. Finally I have to deliver her to third so she can prep for her own presentation later in the week, since she actually cares about college and wants to send a video of the project to Yale in hopes they’ll toss her a few thousand dollars more off her tuition.

I head to a classroom to put the finishing touches on the project I half-assed this semester, since it’s a solo project and no one else’s grade depends on me. I’ve been working in the room with Dixie, and I know I can’t avoid seeing her forever. Still, guilt churns in my stomach, and my feet grow heavier with each step as I approach. I’ve been ignoring her texts all weekend, lost in the little corner of heaven I carved out with Gloria. Now I slip a hand into my pocket and thumb open the little tin where I keep my pills. Before stepping into the room, I slip one onto my tongue and swallow it dry.

The relief of giving in to a craving hits before the pill is even in my bloodstream. Knowing its soothing balm is on the way, I set my laptop down on the table and slide in across from Dixie.

“We should talk.”

“Yes, we should,” she says, closing her laptop and staring at me across the table. “I heard you were carrying Gloria Walton around all morning. What are you doing, Colt? In case you forgot, we’re engaged.”

“The only thing I’ve forgotten is how we got that way.”

“What?” she asks, drawing back.

“I don’t remember asking you,” I admit. “I was blacked out.”

“But… You said you’d love me forever,” she says, her lip trembling. “You promised.”

“I say a lot of stupid shit when I’m fucked up. That doesn’t make it true.”

“That’s when you say what you really want,” she says. “When your inhibitions are lowered enough for you to admit it. Everyone knows that.”

“I’m sorry, Dixie. I don’t remember asking you to marry me.”

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