Page 39 of Not Another Dark Romance

“I paint abstract art, so you’re not going to actually see yourself, but to me, this is how I see you. A mess of emotions, conflict, and denial.”

“I’m not in denial about anything,” he huffs.

“Oh no?” I tease. Doesn’t he know by now just how well I can read him?

“No,” he dismisses quickly before blowing out another deep breath. “I mean, I guess I’m conflicted, but only because I still have to kill you, and I have your dog, which connects us.”

“When are you going to give up that ruse? Huh, Zane? We both know you’re not actually going to kill me, especially not before you know what my mouth feels like on your dick. Is that what you were picturing this morning while you were jerking off?”

His breath hitches, and I can see the war in his eyes. He wants to deny it, to continue insisting he’ll end my life over this silly little mix-up, but he doesn’t want to. And I think he might finally be admitting to himself just how much he wants me and all the kinky things I’ve been suggesting we could do together. He should know he can’t keep up the act much longer, and there’s no need to when I would never turn him in. Especially if my kidnapper is willing to play along with all my dark fantasies.

“Whatever. Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

Changing the subject. Interesting. He didn’t even deny his attraction to me this time.

“Such a thoughtful captor as always.” I wink and close the distance between us, taking the food bag out of his hand and setting it on the concrete floor. “But you know what would be even more thoughtful?”

He doesn’t answer, just watches me with wary blue eyes that are full of the conflict he’s denying.

He clearly isn’t going to respond, so I go on. “If you fucked my face with that hard cock you’re once again not hiding. Can’t even blame the audiobook this time. Clearly, it’s me. It’s okay. I’m hard thinking about you, too.”

Zane aggressively bites his lip. He’s either going to storm off or shove me down to my knees, and there’s only one option I want, so I keep taunting him.

“Think about how hot it’ll be to use my mouth, fucking your prized possession while I wear the collar you put on me. Don’t you want that?” I tease, fingers trailing up the front of his shirt. Once I reach his collarbone, I walk them back down, straight to his thick cock, and rest my hand there. “Don’t you want to facefuck the man you own? Should I call you Master instead of Daddy?”

He sucks in a sharp breath as his Adam’s apple bobs aggressively in his throat. I’m finally getting through to him. It’s like that title was the final straw, and I can visibly see his resolve cracking as something in his glare shifts from longing to determination.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, you little psycho? Fine. Yes. Your fucked-up fantasies are the reason I’m hard. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and that fucking audiobook all day.” His voice is rough, strained with desire, and his eyes darken with hunger as they lock onto mine.

Knew it!

“Your permission to use me however you want is back on the table. Use me wisely.” I wink and give his dick, that’s still in the palm of my hand, a light little squeeze.

Zane’s control finally snaps. With a groan, he grabs my hair and pushes me down to my knees. The concrete is cold under the pants I’m wearing, which happen to be his, but my attention is solely on the man standing over me.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growls, his free hand working to undo his belt and zipper.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” I reply, looking up at him through my lashes as I lick my lips. “But try me, Master.”

“If you want me to stop or slow down, say peaches. If you can’t speak, tap my leg twice.” I nod in acknowledgment, thrilled that he clearly has some knowledge of dominating someone safely, but there’s no fucking way I’m saying peaches.

He accepts my consent and shoves his pants and boxers down in one rough motion. His hard cock springs free, thick and red, already leaking at the tip. I saw him from across the basement this morning, but fuck, his cock is even more appealing from this point of view. He guides it to my lips, pausing for just a moment as if giving me one last chance to back down. Instead, I lean forward and swirl my tongue against the flushed head, tasting his salty precum beaded there.

“Fuuuck,” Zane hisses in pleasure immediately, fingers tightening in my hair until my scalp tingles.

I take him deeper, working my tongue along the sensitive underside of his shaft as I establish my flow, sucking him tightly. His hips begin to move, taking control, even though he thrusts gently at first.

I look up at him, giving him a slight nod and hum “mm-hmm” around his shaft as an invite for him to be more aggressive. He increases his pace as he loses himself to the pleasure of finally being in my mouth. I reach up to cup his balls, rolling them in my palm, and he rewards me with a deep moan.

“Look at me,” his gravelly voice commands, and I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, his lips parted. His gaze bounces between mine and watching his cock disappear between my lips. He looks feral, like a part of him is still surprised this is happening while another is focused on making sure it never stops.

He grabs my head with both hands now, setting a punishing pace as he fucks my throat with raw abandon. It almost feels like his cock is pushing against the metal collar on my neck with every thrust—a constant reminder that I’m his, chained to this pole as he uses my mouth, uses me, for his pleasure.

“God, you look so fucking good like this, it’s unreal,” he groans, hips continuing to snap forward, his hands on my head. “Chained up, on your knees, taking my cock like the slutty psycho you are.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes from the force of his thrusts but also from his praise. This is everything I’ve ever craved, everything I imagined wanting but wasn’t sure how to find. I want more. I want him to ruin me.

“Do you even know what you do to me? How fucking tempting you are, the perfect little fucktoy.” Saliva dribbles down my chin, and his hands release my hair to smack my cheek twice. The sharp pain sends a jolt of desire through me, and my cock twitches where it’s trapped in my pants. “Swallow it all,” he commands, voice strained. “Don’t you dare waste a fucking drop.”