Page 86 of King of My Heart

“One glass isn’t that big of a deal.”

I let out a dry chuckle. “Not that big of a deal,” I repeat. “Says the addict.”

“I’m not an a—”

“Get on your knees,” I growl, not giving him time to search for an excuse.

He runs a hand through his hair and cracks every single one of his knuckles. “Sam—”

“Get. On. Your. Knees.”

“At home. You can punish me at home,” he attempts. “Not here. Not when she can hear us.”

“Better keep quiet then.”

“Please,” he pleads in a quiet voice.

“Keep your begging for when you can’t take it anymore.” I reach for him and put a hand on his cheek in a loving gesture. “Now, don’t make me repeat my order. Just obey.”

He slowly lowers himself, his thighs straining to protect his knees from hitting the floor too harshly. My man in a beautiful suit he wears like a cloak of darkness. On his knees in front of me, his gaze down, focusing on his beautiful hands. What a sight.

I unbuckle my belt and pop the button of my jeans. Slowly, I unzip them, slide my hand inside my boxers, and grab my hardening dick. I stroke myself, watching him struggle to keep his eyes to the floor.

“You know…one of my favorite ways to punish you is to watch you choke on my dick. You get so desperate to please me. You do everything to take it as far down as possible.”

I tighten my grip on my cock, teasing myself before the real thing.

“I make myself as hard as I can before shoving it down your throat, just to make sure there’s no way you can breathe.”

I watch his shoulders rise and fall to a rhythm of desire—fast, ragged. A shudder crosses his body and I smile down at him.

“You’re going to choke like a good boy, aren’t you?”

I grab a fistful of his soft, deep brown curls and pull until he’s facing up. His gaze comes up and I tighten until he’s hissing with pain.

“Eyes down,” I growl.

He drops his gaze, struggling now that his face is looking up. It’s challenging not to look into my eyes when my gesture is forcing him to do precisely that. He blinks rapidly, trying to stay in position.

I pull out my dick and trace his lips with my tip, forcing a tremble of anticipation through my own body. Lik takes a deep breath, as if he can’t help but take me in, inhale me, worship me.

“Say ‘ah’.” A devilish smirk spreads on my lips when his part. He opens as wide as possible, but I insist. “Wider.”

He struggles to try and open bigger. Slowly, I push in at an angle that forces his jaw to stretch out.

He gargles something and puts a hand on my hip.

“Hands,” I snap.

It’s like a reflex, an automatic gesture as he puts his hands behind his back, holding his left wrist in his right hand. His knees spread apart to the perfect angle as a follow-up gesture.

That’s how well I’ve trained him.

I keep pushing in, one hand fisting his hair as tightly as his gorgeous curls are, one my cock. He gags when I hit the back of his throat. I keep pushing, forcing him to relax and open for me.

“You’re taking it like such a good boy,” I murmur.

His open mouth meets my hand wrapped around my cock and his eyes squeeze shut. That’s because he knows there’s a fist-wide length left of my dick. I let go of my dick and put my hand behind his head, pushing until he’s swallowing all of me.

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