Chapter Twenty-Four #2
I know this is just another one of his manipulations, but he does have a point. Carefully, self-consciously, I strip out of my own clothes, down to my bra and panties. I clutch the phone with a trembling hand, staring between it and Killian uncertainly.
“Go on,” he encourages. “Get your beautiful ass on the bed.”
I follow his instructions, all too used to doing so. Wondering what I should make him do for the video. That’s the thing—I won’t be able to make Killian do anything. I’ll have to be clever about how I approach this.
I straddle him and pick up one of his hands. He gazes up at me, eyes filled with equal parts hesitation and desire, and I’m once again reminded of how far out of his comfort zone he’s stepping for me. Because he wants me, every part of me, that much.
It’s humbling to be so desired.
I lock one of his hands into the cuffs, then the other. The handcuffs feel a little light, but I don’t question them. Only once I’m done do I realize a critical missing element that makes alarm pinch my brows. “Where are the keys?”
“Don’t need them,” he responds. “I’ll be fine, as will you.”
I blink. “Killian, I need the keys to let you out.”
He smiles. “Perhaps.”
“What, are you planning on calling the fire department to let you out once we’re done?”
His smile turns genuinely amused. “That would be entertaining. Can you imagine what their surprise would be like?” he chuckles.
I shake my head, astonished. “You… are genuinely insane.”
“And you, my love, are stalling.” He rattles the cuffs and jerks his chin at the phone, lying discarded at the foot of the bed. “Go on, now.”
I bite my lip, dismounting him and reaching for the phone.
First things first, I set a passcode. One that Killian won’t be able to guess. Then, I open the camera app, but can’t quite move after that. I just stare between the screen and Killian’s hard, hot body.
“Lyra.” Killian’s tone has gone hard. “Do it. Take pictures, videos, whatever—stop stalling.”
“I…” I can’t even finish the sentence. I’m still half expecting to wake up from this insane dream.
“You can,” Killian says. “It’s quite simple, really. Aim and snap.” When I still don’t move, his expression turns condescending. “Really, Little Bird? I did much worse to you. I let you think I was going to kill you. I made you helpless, and—”
Click. I take the first photo with the phone, but it’s not enough. It catches Killian’s naked profile, but his demeaning expression undermines its intent. To display him as helpless.
But Killian King can never be helpless—it’s not in his nature.
Unless…
I climb back onto the bed and carefully curl my hand around the base of his cock. It’s so thick my fingers barely touch, and I almost wince with sympathy for myself. No wonder I’m perpetually sore.
A muscle in Killian’s jaw jumps, but his composure remains. “Is that all you’ve got? Really, Lyra, all this time we’ve spent together and you still can’t—”
I jerk him once, almost angrily. Dry skin against dry skin is awkward and uncomfortable—Killian winces a bit. I drop the phone and straddle his legs, suddenly filled with determination, paired with righteous anger. He thinks I can’t do better? I’ll fucking show him.
I haven’t gone down on Killian much—his style is usually fucking my throat, when he’s in the mood. But tonight, I’m going to tease him until he’s the one begging, and there isn’t shit he can do about it.
I carefully cup his balls, just dancing a light touch over them.
He shivers, eyes growing half-lidded. I massage them gently, deliberately, and hover my mouth right over the tip of his cock.
It oozes with precum, and my mouth waters at the sight.
I want to taste him. Just this once, I want to control him, and I want to make him lose control.
“Fuck,” he grits when I gently tug his balls.
He opens his mouth to speak, but his words get lost on a feral groan when I engulf the tip of his cock with my mouth and run my tongue over the slit, lapping up the salty bead of moisture.
His eyes roll into the back of his head.
Somehow, I manage to get my free hand on the phone, and snap a picture of him.
It won’t show much; his face and his bare chest, not anything really incriminating.
His eyes flash open when he hears the click. “You little minx,” he chuckles roughly. “You really are dangerous, you know that?”
I suck harder in response, and a low groan is torn from his chest. I take him deeper into my mouth, only slightly, and swirl my tongue over the velvety underside of his cock. He grunts, and the handcuffs rattle as he tugs at them.
I keep going, starting to slowly bob my head, one hand cupping his balls and taking him deeper with every pass. It’s far more comfortable than when he fucks my throat. It’s actually… enjoyable. Heat gathers at my core, and my nipples harden into diamonds.
Shit. Maybe I can get off on this sort of depravity.
“Fuck,” Killian grunts again. “Jesus… Christ…” I pull off suddenly, releasing him, and manage to snap a picture of him—cock in frame this time—while his eyes are still rolled back with ecstasy.
Anger flashes in his gaze when his eyes meet mine again. “Finish what you started,” he commands.
I arch an eyebrow. “Make me.”
He tugs on the handcuffs harder. Much harder. For a second, I fear they’re actually going to snap off. They did feel a little light…
I take a small video of him struggling against them, then set aside the phone again. Run my fingernails down his hard chest and abs, enjoying the red scratches left behind. On second thought, I snap a photo of those, as well.
“Lyra,” he says warningly. “You better get your mouth around my cock again—”
I drop the phone and squeeze his base, hard enough to shut him up. Then, I follow his instructions—but my way.
I tease him. Bring him to the point where he’s twitching and grunting, only to pull back and snap photos or take videos when I feel him getting close to the edge.
I take my time, surprised by how much I’m enjoying this, how much he’s enjoying this.
It’s not like he has much of a choice—I know he’s attracted to me.
Enough so that even this position, which I’m certain is not his cup of tea, can turn him on—as long as it’s me he’s doing it with.
There’s power in that realization. There’s nothing but power in this whole twisted, sordid situation, and for once, the power’s mine.
It feels nice, if not a little weird.
“I swear to fuck,” he groans when I start taking him down my throat, working to relax it, “If you don’t make me come—”
I pull off and snap one last photo. Then, I toss the phone aside. I’m sure I’ll go through the evidence later, but I think I have enough. Now, to really piss him off.
I wipe my mouth and chin and stand from the bed. Killian’s eyes narrow with confusion and anger. “What are you—”
“I think I’m going to go for a shower,” I say offhandedly. “I’m feeling a little sticky after that. I’ll be back soon.”
“Lyra,” he says warningly. “Get your ass back over here and sink that mouth over my cock until I come. Or your pussy. Or your ass—I don’t care, so long as I—”
“Nah,” I say, shrugging. “Not really feeling it. You know all those times you’ve denied me?” I smile. “I guess it’s time for me to return the favor—”
Killian jerks at his hands so abruptly, a loud crack echoes through the air. Astonishment renders me silent. Did he just…?
“You have a choice.” He rubs at his wrists, free of the handcuffs because he fucking broke them, sitting up, staring at me like every inch the predator he is. “Get your ass back over here in the next ten seconds, and I might take it easy on you. Or don’t, and I’m getting out the belt.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“The handcuffs—”
“Not police-grade. Not strong enough to hold me. Three seconds.”
I don’t think; I just move. Police grade or not, they were metal. How the fuck does someone break out of metal?
And why does that only make Killian King, the powerhouse that he is, even more irresistibly hot?