Page 60 of Dark Little Game
A moment ago I wanted to kill him but when he gives me his tongue like this, I might rather fuck him instead.
As I’m kissing him I force him backward, both of us stepping back until his ass lands on the edge of his bed.
I push him down and straddle him on the mattress, never taking my lips off of his.
Once he’s lying down on his back, he’s sliding his tongue into my mouth like he’s needy for me even though I’m the one holding a blade on him.
His tongue is slick and warm against mine and the sensation goes straight to my cock. I’m hard and I’m not trying to hide it as I shove my bulge up against his naked thigh.
I love him in these boxer-briefs that leave nothing to the imagination.
I finally let his wrist go and the moment it’s free, he reaches down, cupping my hard-on through my pants.
“Knew you still fucking wanted it,” I growl at him.
“You came at me like a rabid animal,” he says, squeezing hard and making me moan. “How else am I supposed to calm you down?”
“You’re not calming me down, king. You’re begging to get fucked. Do you dream about me, Colson? Is that why you whimper in your sleep?”
“You watch me sleep? You’re more psychotic than I thought.”
I cut him off by pushing my thumb past his pretty lips and into his mouth.
He bites me, so I slide out the slicked finger and while his lips are still parted I put the back of my knife against his mouth instead.
“Something better for you to bite.”
He shoves his hand past my waistband and inside my pants, just like he did the other day. His fist tightens around my cock, giving it a hard squeeze.
His teeth come down on the knife and I can feel it wiggle the handle a little.
Good fucking Lord.
My skin is hot as I gently take the knife away from his mouth.
“I want to hurt you,” I tell him, “but not like that.”
“Am I the first person to tame you?” he says, cocking his head to one side. “The first person who doesn’t cower in fear when you put that stupid fucking knife near me?”
“You couldn’t even try to tame me,” I tell him. “Do what I say. Unbutton my pants. Your mouth looks pretty, and I need to take it.”
Rayne removes his palm from my cock. He takes his hand out of my pants entirely, but he doesn’t motion to undo my fly like Iasked him to.
In fact, it’s like he’s decided to suddenly do a 180.
His gaze is suddenly defiant.
“Get the fuck out of my bed,” he says. “Go to bed aching or get yourself off, but you’re not touching me.”
A flash of frustrated tension hits me and I snap all over again.
I pull back my knife and I slam it forward, making Rayne jump.
The tip sinks into the carved wooden headboard of Rayne’s bed. The knife sticks out, inches from his head, like it’s framing him in.
The moonlight casts a shadow in the shape of my blade over his face.
I reach down and unbutton my pants on my own, moving to shove them off along with the rest of my clothes.
