Page 85 of King of Hollywood
I snatched him.
Yanked him right into my lap again—exactly how I’d wanted to only a few minutes prior. He was a solid weight, despite being small, and a startled sound escaped him as his eyes widened. We were so close. Intoxicatingly so. The scent of his lemony shampoo filled the air and my nostrils flared. Need curled hot and tight in my belly.
“Marshall—”
I kissed him again.
No more games.
No more playing.
I might’ve been awful at it, but I didn’t think so. Because when I slipped my tongue inside Felix’s mouth for the first time, he melted like butter in my arms. His fingers kneaded at my shoulders, a muffled groan escaping him as my tongue bumped up against his peculiar, sharp little teeth, and one of my hands tangled in the back of his hair, holding him in place.
Felix made a hungry sound—mirroring my own—as I disappeared inside him with each slick, needy flick of my tongue.
The beast inside me howled.
He kissed back. It took him a moment to get over the shock of having a tongue in his mouth, probably. Hell, I was quite shocked by my own behavior too. But…the moment he did, he was kissing back with fervor. His tongue slid along mine, cool as always, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing as my cock perked up beneath his ass and I struggled not to rut against him like a fucking animal.
His scent was heady.
It filled my head, my lungs, my heart.
When I finally broke away, it wasn’t because I wanted to stop kissing but because I needed to breathe or I was going to pass out.
“Fuck,” I hissed out, head thumping back against the headrest. Felix made an affirmative sound. And god…his lips were swollen and pink, abused from the rough kisses. I wanted to muss him up more. Which was a wild thought from a man who ironed his t-shirts before wearing them.
“Marshall,” Felix’s voice was a quiet warning. “We shouldn’t—”
“Why not?” I asked, genuinely flummoxed. “I want you.” I blinked. “You want me.”
A horrible thought occurred to me.
What if he doesn’t want me?
And that horror must’ve been written all over my face, because Felix made a quick sound in affirmation, diving in to kiss me again before I could fully panic. “I do. I do want you,” he agreed, voice low and rough. “I want you so badly.”
“Oh thank God.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but as soon as it was out, I was glad I had. Felix laughed, a melodic little chuckle.
“I’m just not sure if I can control myself. I’m not hungry right now,” he admitted, lips still brushing mine, “but…”
“If you get hungry I’ll feed you.” I did not understand him and his aversion to eating in front of me. Did he think I’d care if he got food stuck in his teeth? Or spilled—or…I don’t know, burped? Even though the idea was unappealing, I was quite aware by now that there wasn’t anything Felix could do that would make me less enamored with him.
Felix laughed, though the sound was brittle. “What if I want to eat you?” he joked, a wobble of real fear in his voice. “What then? Would you forgive that?”
“Are we talking cannibalism?” I blinked, trying very hard to listen to his words when he was sitting in my lap and his lips were right there. One of my hands crept up his thigh, making him shiver. Up it slid, over the groove where his leg met his torso, and back toward—
So close
So, so, so close.
“Cannibalism is not a hard limit for me,” I told him honestly, my hand twitching. Touch the butt, Marshall. Touch the butt. Do it.
“Really?” Felix looked surprised, I didn’t understand why.
“If murder doesn’t bother me, why would eating people?” I blinked at him, distracted from ass-groping by talk of murder.
“I’m talking about eating you, Marshall.”