Page 76 of King of Hollywood

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Page 76 of King of Hollywood

I was so certain at that moment that I’d somehow inadvertently found his limit. That there was no way he’d be able to see the collage for what it was—a declaration of affection. Instead, he’d see it like Harold did.

He’d think I was a creep.

He’d be done with me.

I’d have to move.

Why hadn’t I thought of switching my screen over before I came here? I was a planner. How could I have been caught so horribly off guard? Oh god. Oh-god-oh-god-oh-god. Cameras were one thing—but collecting and using the photos? That was something else entirely.

“Don’t blow your stack, love,” Felix grinned.

“Don’t blow my…what?”

“Your stack. You know? Have a conniption?”

I blinked, cocking my head again. Him and his weird phrases again.

“It’s cute,” Felix said, still grinning. “Your little…collage thing. I suppose I didn’t know what you’d do with the pictures you were taking, but I…like it.”

“It’s…cute?” I blinked, my brain officially broken. It was very clear that I had taken quite a few of these pictures without his consent. And instead of creepy, he was calling me cute? I squinted at him, flummoxed. Sure, I hadn’t wanted him to think I was creepy—but I was seriously beginning to question his sanity.

My pulse raced.

My belly flipped.

Maybe we were even better suited for one another than I’d thought.

“Yes,” he laughed, nuzzling my bicep with a happy hum. “It’s cute. You must really like me, huh?”

My cheeks flamed, my head spinning. I scoffed, but I knew he didn’t believe me. I didn’t even believe me. “You? Not likely.”

“Because I’m not special,” he hummed, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Exactly.”

Felix kissed my bicep, once, twice, three times. The same biceps he’d complimented the first time we were together. I flexed, and he hummed, nuzzling into the hard muscle happily, almost like he’d been wanting to do that for years.

Then his kisses climbed, up, up, up. Over my shoulder, across my trapezius, and up my neck. His breath puffed tantalizingly against the shell of my ear as his body hovered carefully against mine.

“You know…” Felix said, lips fluttering against my skin.

My cock throbbed.

When I glanced down, I was mortified to see it pushing rather pointedly against the seam of my pants, thick and needy. I surreptitiously tried to shift my laptop over it, so that Felix wouldn’t see.

“In case you forgot, I like how obsessed you are with me.” Felix’s voice was a throaty purr. He kissed the shell of my ear, and I whined, unable to help it. It was the second time he’d said something along those lines, and this time, I was inclined to believe him.

“Oh.”

I tried to think about chaste things. Tried to calm the beast inside me that ached to grab him and pull him right into my lap. I wasn’t sure what to do with him once I had him there—but god. My dick hurt. I just…wanted to rub it on him a little.

Was that really so bad?

Felix’s slippery tongue slid along my ear and I whined again, hips jerking up, searching for something to fuck.

“Take whatever pictures you want, Marshall,” Felix said, licking a cool slick trail behind my ear where he settled, his teeth worrying the skin of my throat. “I promise I don’t mind.”

“Nnng,” I gasped out, tipping my head to give him more room. Slick and tantalizing, he flicked his tongue needily against my throat—like a kitten would lap at a bowl of milk.




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