Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Trembling, he waited on his knees, holding his breath. He could have moved away. He could move away.
He didn’t.
He watched Roman pull himself out.
He didn’t resist when Roman pried his mouth open with his fingers.
He didn’t resist when Roman slowly fed him his fat cock.
Luke closed his eyes and moaned a little, relishing the way the hard, thick cock stretched his lips. Roman wasn’t slow or gentle. Immediately, his cock started pistoning in and out of Luke’s mouth, bruising his throat and choking him, making Luke whimper around the cock in his mouth.
It went on, and on, Roman’s low, guttural grunts the only sound in his ears. There was a part of Luke that was ashamed by how much he got off on this: on being used like a hole for a cock, with no pretense of affection. For fuck’s sake, he was sucking the cock of a man who saw nothing wrong with kidnapping people—who’d probably done things a lot worse than that. He was sick. Clearly he was sick to enjoy this, but he was loving this, loving this so much.
All too soon, Roman pulled on his hair roughly. Luke whined when the cock was pulled out of his mouth. No—
“Open your eyes.”
He looked up and saw Roman already staring back at him. Roman tugged on his red, glistening cock, his eyes blazing with heat. “I’m going to come on your face. Open that pretty mouth for me, Curly.”
Panting, Luke did as he was told, eyes fixed hungrily on the drops of pre-come at the tip of Roman’s cock.
“Blya—” Roman grated out, stroking himself fast, and then he was coming all over Luke: his cheeks, his nose, his parted lips, down his neck and onto the shirt he was wearing.
“Fuck, look at you, angel,” Roman said, running his hand through Luke’s hair and pressing his face against Roman’s thigh. “You may jerk off now.”
Slipping his hand under his shirt, Luke grabbed his own dripping cock and groaned in relief. He was so hard it hurt. He wanked himself, panting against Roman’s muscular thigh. He needed—
“Come on, love.” Roman tugged on his hair, hard, and Luke was falling off the edge, teeth sinking into Roman’s skin and his mind floating far, far away.
Leaning his forehead against Roman’s thigh, he just breathed as those strong fingers continued stroking his curls, prolonging the pleasure coursing through his body. Luke was trying to make sense of what he was feeling, but all he could come up with was warm and good.
A distant part of him wondered what he was doing, what the fuck this was. This wasn’t a normal behavior for him during sex. This giddy pliantness was anything but normal. He would like to claim he was doing this to lull Roman into a false sense of security, but it would be kind of laughable. Now that he knew Roman a little better, Luke was sure a bit of cocksucking wouldn’t make a difference. This man wasn’t someone you could manipulate through sex. Roman fucked a different woman every night. If there was anyone being lulled into a false sense of security, it was Luke. He felt safe with Roman—at least safe enough to trust Roman with his body. How crazy was that?
“Stand up,” Roman said.
Luke got to his feet unsteadily, his knees still weak, his body boneless.
Blue eyes studied him from his disheveled head to bare toes before Roman said, “Go take a shower. You’re filthy.”
Luke padded back to the bathroom. He really was filthy, his face covered in Roman’s spunk. Besides, he didn’t have any energy to argue. He didn’t want to argue. Roman’s authoritative tone didn’t annoy him at all.
What’s going on? he thought dazedly as he stood under the shower head, letting the water cascade down him.
By the time he turned the shower off, feeling clean and refreshed, his mind was clear of Roman-induced fog once again. Thank God. Lately his own mind freaked him out.
Shaking his head, Luke drew the shower screen aside and stopped.
Roman turned his head from the mirror. The hand that was trimming his beard went still as his eyes zeroed in on Luke’s naked, wet body.
Luke took a few steps forward and stopped, reining in the insane urge to press his body against Roman’s.
What the fuck, seriously.
A beat passed before Roman turned his gaze to the mirror again and returned to the task at hand. He was already partly dressed. It seemed he was leaving.
“You’re dripping water on the floor,” Roman said, wiping his face with a towel.
“I don’t have anything to change into.”
Roman went back into his bedroom.
“Come here,” he called out when Luke didn’t move.
Feeling a little self-conscious about his nudity, Luke did as he was told. Roman walked toward him, a pretty, patterned shirt in his hands.
Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. The shirt was stylish and looked expensive, but he couldn’t imagine it belonging to Roman. “It doesn’t look at all like something you would wear.”