Page 88 of King of Hollywood

“Okay,” Felix dropped his hips back down and I growled, head tossed back, my neck bulging. I clutched at his ass cheeks, yanking them apart, fingers dipping into the sweaty fabric-covered crease between them as I jerked up, over and over, and over. “Okay, Marshall.”

“Felix—” his name was a swear and prayer on my tongue. Panting, I stared at him—enraptured all over again.

“I know—” Felix released the handle above the door, both hands pressing hard to my pecs. “I know.” He squeezed and I sobbed, fucking into him as his palms scrubbed against my hard nipples. “Take what you need from me, my good boy. I want you to.”

It was that last little purr that set me off.

My head tossed back again, hips pumping, eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure, unlike anything I’d ever known coursed through my veins. He felt so good. So warm, and solid, and fuck-fuck-fuck. I came inside my pants, sobbing as I chased that pleasure, rubbing my hard bulge against the sweet swell of his ass, fingers still clutching him open.

It took a while, but when I finally came down from my high, I opened my eyes.

Felix was still in my lap. He was warm—probably because he’d stolen my heat, the little thief. His eyes were soft, and his fingers were rubbing distracting little patterns over my heart and shoulders, and up my neck.

He looked…at peace.

But guilty too.

Like he knew he’d done something wrong—even though I’d wanted this.

“Are you going to kill me now?” I asked, voice low and hoarse. It was the only thing I could think of that would make him look at me like that.

Felix laughed, the sound startling out of him. “Ah. No.” He smiled, though there was a bit of strain around his eyes. “Not today.”

“I have a request.” His fingers danced up my throat again, and Felix nodded, biting his own lip as he waited. Behind him the movie on the screen was winding down, the credits rolling, their light casting him in a rather spectacular halo.

A name caught my attention at the top—if only because it was one I’d seen before.

Lucky.

Huh.

Just a simple name. No last name attached.

But then my attention flitted back to Felix, and I smiled, hoping I didn’t look as manic as I felt. There was cum drying in my pants. I had a crick in my back. And my legs were beginning to cramp. Logic dictated that I should not have been as blissfully happy as I was.

But logic was a bitch, and I was ignoring her today.

The only thing that mattered to me right now was Felix.

“What’s your request?” Felix asked, sweetly. There was a dazed sort of look on his face, docile—like his orgasm had sucked the life out of him too.

“If you’re going to kill me, at least let me fuck you a few more times first.”

Felix laughed.

And it was sunshine, sunshine, sunshine.

I leaned up to taste it, gathering him close because if I didn’t, I worried he’d slip away again. There was a lot I was willing to lose in this life, but Felix wasn’t one of those things. And I knew I would keep him forever if he let me.

Even if my forever was not nearly as long as his was.

On account of the fact he had not confirmed whether or not he’d kill me.

The odd thing?

I’d let him.

Chapter seventeen