Page 8 of False Comeback

Him, laughing at me.

No fucking way in the deepest parts of any and every hell that existed out there.

“I have a life,” I snarled, his earlier words still rankling me. Stoking my anger. “I just take my job seriously as well. Unlike you.”

His face flushed with fury, hands clenching into fists. “For the last fucking time, I take my fucking job seriously.”

I let out a mocking laugh and knelt to tie my shoelace. “You’re a joke.”

There was a moment of silence before I heard Vince striding closer, his bare feet slapping against the floor.

“Fuck you, Crossbody.”

His feet appeared in front of me in a wide stance, narrow and bony and that sickly grey shade, his nails dark and discoloured. I clenched my jaw, refusing to look up at him as I hurried to tie my laces faster so I was no longer kneeling.

“Why don’t you suck my fucking dick while you’re down there, asshole,” he continued, a condescending sneer in his voice. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us. Guess what—you’re not. You might be a big, special boy back in Otherworld, but here you’re just one of thousands of fae, one of tens of thousands of supernaturals, and let me tell you a secret—none of us give a flying fuck how important you think you are. Because you’re not.”

My blood was boiling, the fury pulsing in my veins making my hands tremble. My vision went cloudy with rage, my teeth clenched so hard I thought they would crack, and before I knew what I was doing, my hand had shot up to grab the edge of that fucking towel and aggressively yank it from his hips.

I didn’t really know why. I just wanted to make him feel small. Embarrass him. Put him on the backfoot. I’d assumed he would stumble back and hide himself, spluttering with humiliation before racing from the room.

I was wrong.

Vince just stood there, frozen in shock. Then he barked out a rough, patronising laugh and placed his hands on his hips.

“I didn’t mean it literally.” There was a smirk in his voice, which made my nostrils flare with fury and my head snap up to scowl at him.

But to my utter mortification, my gaze got stuck midway.

Even though he always walked around in a towel, I’d never actually seen Vince’s cock before. It was the same sickly grey shade as the rest of him, the head hidden by his foreskin. There was a patch of neatly trimmed blackish-grey hair at its base.

For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I told myself it was the shock of seeing my co-worker’s genitals and nothing more. But tendrils of… something were creeping through my belly. Descending lower.

I was still staring at it when Vince let out a mean little chuckle, not in the least bit ashamed to be so exposed as he stood there with his hands on his narrow hips.

“You’re looking at my dick like you really do want to suck it.” There was an infuriating smugness in his voice. “You a cockslut, Crossbody?”

A burst of unexpected arousal shot into my balls, making my prick tingle.

“Maybe you should,” Vince continued. His own cock twitched, and I realised my breaths had shallowed as I watched it slowly start to fill. “Maybe choking on my dick will take you down a peg or two.”

His cock was thickening, lengthening, rising to bob in front of his stomach, the head now peeking out from his foreskin, smooth and flushed. My gaze locked onto the tiny slit at the tip.

Vince was breathing faster as his fingers twitched on his hips, and still he didn’t move. Neither did I. I should have straightened, sneered down at him—I was much taller—and walked away. I should have left him standing there with an erection, naked and hard in the middle of the room like an utter fool.

“Maybe if I fucked your slut throat, you’d stop walking around like you fucking own the place.”

I pursed my lips to hold back a humiliating whimper as my scalp tingled and my cock lurched in my shorts. He… he couldn’t talk to me like that. I was a prince. I was royalty.

He needed to stop talking to me like that.

My breaths were rasping out of me, limbs locked in place as I knelt at his feet, my shoelace forgotten. I couldn’t move.

Vince barked out another laugh. “Fuck. Look at you—you’re hard. You want to, don’t you? You actually want to do it. You are a dirty little cockslut.”

Humiliation made my face burn. I refused to look down at the erection straining in my shorts, pulling the thin fabric taut. His words only made it grow harder.

“Do it then.” His voice was deeper, rougher, and I could hear the smirk in it. “Suck my dick, your highness.”