Page 57 of Psycho Pack

"Look at me," he demands, voice hoarse.

I glance up, meeting his gaze even though my mouth's full of his cock. His pale blue eyes are dark with hunger, pupils blown wide.

"Good boy," he breathes, thumbs brushing at my cheeks. "So good for me."

The praise makes my cock throb almost painfully. His knot pulses against my tongue, filling my mouth completely. I can barely breathe around it, but I don't care. The stretch in my jaw borders on agony but even that just makes me harder.

I moan around him, rutting helplessly against nothing. My cock strains against my pants, leaking and desperate for attention. But I keep my hands on his thighs, holding him steady as his knot continues to pulse.

His thumb traces my stretched lips where they're sealed around his shaft. The touch is feather-light but it sends electricity down my spine.

"Look how well you're taking it," he breathes, something like awe creeping into his normally detached voice. "Who knew you could be so... obedient?"

I should bite him for that. Should remind him exactly who he's dealing with. But all I can do is groan as another wave of whatever the fuck this is crashes through me.

What the fuck is happening to me?

His knot throbs again, forcing another spurt of come down my throat. I swallow greedily, working my throat around him even though the sheer amount of come he's pumped down my throat is making my stomach cramp. The sound he makes—somewhere between a growl and a moan—goes straight to my aching cock.

"So greedy," he pants, his usual precise diction slipping. "So eager to please."

My face burns but my hips buck involuntarily. His words shouldn't affect me like this. None of this should affect me like this. But here I am, on my knees with his knot locked in my mouth, harder than I've ever been in my life.

His fingers tighten in my hair as another aftershock rocks through him. "Fuck... your mouth is so hot..."

I hum and growl around him, making him gasp. His knot pulses in response and my gut twists, but I don't want it to end.

"Touch yourself," he orders, his voice cracking slightly. "Let me see you come just from this. Just from taking my knot like a good boy."

A broken sound escapes me. My hands shake as I fumble with my belt and tug my pants down, finally freeing my aching cock. Just wrapping my hand around myself nearly makes me lose it.

"Slowly," he commands. "Make it last."

I groan but obey, stroking myself with agonizing slowness. His knot throbs against my tongue in approval.

"Good boy," he breathes. "Just like that."

My whole body shudders at his praise. Precome drips steadily from my cock as I work myself over, matching my pace to the steady pulse of his knot. Each swallow makes him gasp, his fingers tightening reflexively in my hair.

I'm close—so fucking close—but I wait.

Need his permission.

Need him to tell me...

"You're close," he murmurs, his fingers tightening in my hair. Not a question. He always has to sound so fucking clinical, even with his knot locked in my mouth. "I can tell by your breathing pattern. The way your pupils dilate. The pre-ejaculate leaking from your?—"

I growl around him and bite down a little, making his words cut off in a choked gasp. My hand moves faster on my cock, precome dripping onto the cave floor.

But I don't come.

Not yet.

Not until he tells me to.

What the fuck has he done to me?

"Look at me," he orders, voice rough, his fingers digging into my hair and tugging my head back as much as he can with his cock stuffed down my throat. "I want to see your face when you come."

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