Page 35
The room is still dark, but there’s enough ambient light from the window to see the shape sitting on top of me.
Green eyes. Wild hair. A smile that could lead a man willingly to the grave.
Ilya.
My wrists jerk instinctively, and I feel the bite of fabric. My own belt, maybe a scarf, something improvised, holding them to the headboard.
He tilts his head, and the smile widens. “Morning, motherfucker.”
“My, my, princeling,” I say, voice rough from sleep. “You’re blessing me with the sight of you.”
I notice he has a gun. My gun, to be specific. He points it at my face.
“Shut the fuck up.”
I grin. “If you wanted to get on top of me, baby, all you had to do was ask.”
His eyes narrow. He presses the muzzle against my lips, cold steel dragging over the curve of my mouth.
“Open.”
I do.
He shoves the gun in. He isn’t gentle at all. It goes straight down my throat until the barrel hits the back and my mouth floods with the taste of metal and oil.
I don’t gag.
I take it.
His eyes widen by a fraction. Then fury eclipses everything else. That incandescent, uncompromising rage looks so good on him. I wonder how it would look if I drove into him and split him open on my cock. Would he look at me this angry? Part of me hopes he would. I’d drown in that gaze.
“No gag reflex?” He pushes deeper, testing. “What a whore.”
I hum around the intrusion, and his jaw tightens.
He pulls the gun out halfway, then shoves it back in. Watching. Waiting for me to choke.
I don’t.
I just look at him, eyes half-lidded, and let him see exactly how much I’m enjoying this, because I am enjoying this.
He makes a disgusted sound and yanks the gun out completely. “You’re not even going to struggle?”
I lick my lips, tasting gunpowder. “No complaints here.”
“You’re supposed to be scared.”
“You’re sitting on me. This is objectively the best part of my life, so I’m failing to see the downside.”
His hand tightens around the grip. “I could kill you right now.”
“You could.”
“Then why aren’t you begging?”
“If you want me to beg, then please put your cock inside my mouth instead of this gun. Please, please, please.”
His face flushes. Beautiful. Furious. Devastating.
