Page 110 of King of Hollywood
“I need you to love me like I love you.”
“Oh, Marshall.” Felix’s voice wavered, breathless and rough, one of his lovely hands cupping the side of my face, jerking my head away from his ear so he could look at me. His eyes were warm. So very warm. Warmer than summer days. Warmer than rhubarb pie fresh out of the oven. Warmer than Vladmir when he curled up in my lap while I made collages.
“Because looking at you hurts—” my voice broke. “You’re so beautiful.” My heart thrashed. “Because I don’t deserve good things, and that’s what you are—” Felix made a wounded sound, gripping my face tighter as my eyes burned, and hot tears spilled free. Hotter even, than the cocks I still held clutched tightly, possessively in my hand. “Because no one has ever loved me the way I need.”
“Oh, darling,” Felix’s voice was warm, warm, warm. So full of love it floored me.
“Felix,” I managed, voice cracking.
“You know…I thought—” he shivered, hips pushing into my grasp. “I became…this—” A vampire, “Because I worried that without my beauty and youth I’d have…nothing.” His voice shuddered, the truth echoing between us, shivery warm. “Now I realize, what an honor growing old would have been.” Tears burned in his eyes. “Especially if I had been able to do that with you.”
I smiled, a wobbly, awful smile that I was sure was pathetic, and not at all sexy. But Felix didn’t seem to mind.
“Nothing good lasts forever,” Felix said softly, stroking his thumb along my cheek, catching a stray tear that had slipped free. “I know that firsthand.” He sucked in a breath—a breath he didn’t need. “But you will.”
“Steady as the stars,” I promised, heart fluttering.
“Two eyes, two hands, and a grin,” Felix echoed, the words I’d spoken to him all those weeks ago.
“Not special,” I countered, leaning down till our noses brushed.
“Not at all,” he hummed, fluttering a kiss against my lips.
“Forever?” I offered, now that I knew that for him…forever was infinite.
“Soon,” Felix promised.
And then we were kissing again. Warm, wet, delicious. He slid inside my mouth, his fingers tangling in my hair and I lost myself in him. My hand moved more quickly, my orgasm fast approaching as the rollercoaster of emotions we’d shared over the last few minutes coalesced.
When we came, we came together.
Because that was what we were supposed to do.
Felix gasped against my lips, a broken, needy whine. His hot cum spilled against my fingers. I followed after, feeling victorious that I’d managed to make him come first. I caught what I could of the mess, feeling quite proud when that ended up being all of it.
That was…of course, when the fact that I’d left the front door open came to bite me in the ass.
In the form of my worst fucking nightmare.
Barry (the busybody.)
Standing in the doorway, eyes wide, his ridiculous hair primped for the party. I only had a moment to judge him for the amount of gel he used before I realized what exactly he was seeing. Me and Felix, fucking on the couch. Aaaaand the body on the floor. The very dead, very still body, staring vacantly at him—eyes still open.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
Chapter twenty-one
Barry ran—because apparently he had some sense. Dolly and Tiffany blocked his escape—because they were good, loyal beasts—and Barry fucking kicked at them. He missed, but still. Anger burned liquid hot beneath my skin as he bolted down the hallway and out of sight.
“Fucking asshole,” I grunted, rage simmering.
He was going to pay for that.
The absolute fucking pig.
