Page 82 of The KING Review

A rush of something hot and electric floods my chest, the renewed realization that nobody has ever looked at me like this, not even fucking once.

“Take it out,” I manage, each word a rough edge. “Please, baby girl.”

She makes a delighted sound, and it shoots straight to my cock. She tugs at the elastic waistband of my boxers, and my cock springs free, leaking and flushed. I almost black out at the sensation of the air hitting me.

Her gaze flicks up, pools of ink in molten gold, holding mine as her fingers curl around my length. She gives me one slow stroke, squeezing at the crown, then swiping her thumb through the slick at the top. I jerk in the chair. My body is not my own.

One more stroke, deliberate, then she leans in, tongue flicking out to taste. My entire body vibrates, and my hips buck, chasing her mouth. She chuffs a soft laugh, then wraps her lips around just the head, sucking slowly, like she has all the time in the world.

“God, Neve, you’re going to kill me.” I don’t know whose voice that is, because it isn’t mine.

She pops off, lips glossy, eyes lambent in the low light. “Not yet. I want to take my time with you.” She strokes me again, then stands abruptly, copper dress flashing, gaze pinning me in place. “Bed or couch?”

My brain lags, but I point at the couch, and she gives a wolfish grin, tipping her head.

I can barely get up. She tugs me by the wrist, hauls me over, then pushes me down on the couch. I expect her to crawl into my lap, but she smirks. “Spread your legs for me, Daddy.”

Fuuuuck.

I obey without thinking, shoving my jeans and boxers down and off. Suddenly, I’m naked, and she’s still fully dressed in that diabolical slip dress as she sinks to her knees and settles between my thighs.

Neve licks a stripe up the underside of my dick, slow, the wet heat of her tongue making me shudder. Her nails bite into my skin, pinning me to the spot, and then her mouth is fully on me, and all cogent thoughts are ejected from my brain at hypersonic speed.

Her tongue is wet velvet, tracing the vein beneath my cock. She drags her mouth up, lips plush and obscene, and when she sucks the head, slow, she moans like it’s dessert. My hips jerk. I brace both hands on her head, needing something solid, and all I feel is her—the heat of her mouth, the way she looks up at me, hungry and gleaming.

“God, Neve,” I rasp. “You look so good like that. Such a good girl for Daddy.”

She grins around my cock, tongue swirling, then pops off just long enough to stroke me slow and say, “Anything you want. I’m yours, Grant. Use me. Fuck my mouth. Take what you need.”

No one’s ever said that to me before. No one’s ever looked at me like this, like they’d let me ruin them and still say thank you after.

She spits into her hand, wraps her fist around the base. Her other hand cups my balls, gentle at first, then rougher, squeezing, rolling them. Her tongue darts out, lapping at the head before she sucks me in again, deeper this time. I can’t stop watching her.

She bobs her head, letting me hit the back of her throat. I groan, hand tightening in her hair. “Fuck, baby girl, just like that. So good for me.” My hips rock; I can’t help myself. She takes it, lets me nudge deeper, then grabs my thighs, grounding me, mouth full of cock and eyes full of filthy intent.

She hums, like she loves the stretch, the way I fill her mouth. “More,” she slurs around my length, spit dripping down her chin. “Please, Daddy, fuck my face. I want it.”

I lose my fucking mind.

I fist her hair, hips rocking up hard. I’m almost careful at first, but she eggs me on, little whimpers and gags, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, but she doesn’t stop. She loves it; I can tell. She’s squeezing my cock with her throat, hands stroking what she can’t swallow, and her nails rake up my stomach, scraping at the soft, marking me for later, so I know I’m hers.

Fuck, I’m all hers.

“Christ, Neve, you’re perfect.” I pant, the words barely a voiced sound. Her mouth is fire. She moans, obscene, and my cock jumps in her mouth. “You want Daddy to come down your throat, angel? You want to swallow for me?”

She nods, eyes glassy, fingers stroking my balls, tugging, rolling. “All of it. I want to be your good girl. Please—I need it. Please use me, I’m yours, always yours.”

I fuck her mouth, slow but deep, watching her take every inch, lips stretched wide and shiny. God, she’s so fucking greedy for it, tears suspended at the edges of her lashes. There’s nothing in the universe but the heat of her mouth, the vise of her throat.

Her hand moves with the rhythm, wrist twisting, squeezing the base to meet every thrust. The other stays lower, palming my balls, massaging them until my vision blurs in white-hot flashes. I moan, guttural, every nerve ending fires at once. She cups me, then squeezes, just enough, the edge of pain sharpening the pleasure.

Fuck.

She pops off for one reckless breath, spit gleaming down her chin, and grins, wicked. “Will you come for me, Daddy?”

I can’t hold back the groan it rips out of me. I’m barely clinging to reality as she bends her head and sucks my balls into her mouth, tongue hot and velvet, relentless. My hips jerk. I fist both hands in her hair, needing to anchor myself, but she just whines, hungry for more.

She lets my cock slap against her cheek, thick and flushed and leaking. She strokes it, a filthy tease, thumb smearing the precum that’s running down, making a mess of both of us, then her hand drifts even lower, tracing the wet seam behind my balls. The touch is light at first, just curiosity—until she circles my rim, slow and slick.