Page 90 of King of Hollywood
Hopefully he still had an orgasm left in him?
I was starting to really hate all his so-called “friends.” One of these days I was going to sit in the entryway with a shotgun and see who tried to follow him to bed then. Still though…I was the one with a key—so I knew I was different.
I just…
I wanted to be everything for him.
Was that so bad?
Felix’s expression did not inspire confidence. He still did not look seduced. I blinked, confused. Perhaps I’d done this all wrong?
“I’m supposed to fuck you…right?” I blinked again, brow furrowed.
“Seems fair.” Felix cut me some slack. Even though he apparently did not watch porn—as I couldn’t see there being another explanation for his ignorance—he stepped in close. His fingers curled in the hem of my polo, pulling me in close as he tipped his head up for a kiss.
I met him in the middle, melting with a happy groan.
I dropped the pizza box.
But neither of us seemed to care.
Immediately, my hands slid to his face, clutching it in a tight grip as I sucked and licked, and whined into his mouth. His lovely little teeth threatened to tear into my lip again. I’d thought I’d imagined it the first time, as there hadn’t been even a scratch left behind before—but I was certain now that they were sharp enough.
They pricked, and I shuddered, clutching him even tighter, his blond hair fluttering against my fingertips as I ate him the only socially acceptable way I could.
When we parted—it was only because I had to breathe.
I sucked in a ragged, needy pant, our lips still brushing, his face still clutched in my grip.
“You put a lot of effort into this, didn’t you?” Felix murmured, lips bumping mine as his fingers gave my outfit another gentle tug.
“Of course I did,” I kissed him again—now that my lungs were full, I was excited to empty them again. “I’m asking you to let me have you. The least I could do was put in a little effort.”
“Mmm,” Felix hummed as I dove in for another, longer, greedier kiss. One of my hands slid to his throat, fanning along it, dipping beneath his collar. The way he shuddered lit me up from the inside out. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, but Felix didn’t seem to mind.
Apparently my unpracticed groping was good enough for him.
That only became even more clear when one second I had my tongue in his mouth, sliding hot-wet-cool-slick along his, and the next, his hand was latching onto my cock for the very first time and he squeezed.
I growled, hips thrusting up into his grip, my cock aching as I felt his fingers close more surely around it, his palm pushing against me to give me something to fuck against.
Bliss fluttered behind my lids, and a frankly horrifying sound escaped me as I pulled away from the kiss—too blind-sided by pleasure to do anything other than stupidly flex into Felix’s grip. Led by my dick. Like a fucking plebeian.
And I couldn’t even be mad about it.
“As romantic as this is,” Felix said, plucking at the hem of my pizza-polo at the same time he gave my dick another pointed rub. Precum leaked from the tip immediately, making my boxers sticky and wet and uncomfortable as I panted against his lips, mindlessly pushing into his grip. “I hope you know it wasn’t necessary.”
“It…wasn’t?” I managed, even though my brain had taken a vacation.
“No, Marshall.” God, I loved it when he said my name. He gave my dick another rub, and my toes curled. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved across the street.”
This was news to me.
Mind-blowing news.
And yet…my dick still won the battle with my head.
Stupidly, I gasped against his cheek, the hand that had been toying with his collar, slipping down to grip his ass tight. Felix gasped, and I felt like I’d won the lottery. God, his ass was nice. So supple. I gave it a greedy squeeze and he laughed, a throaty, rough sound. “That’s…” I managed, pausing again to grunt when Felix gave my cock another pointed rub.
