9. Felix #2
Thankfully the couch is well padded, unlike the settee, and the impact only stuns me instead of knocking me the fuck out.
“Do you have any idea where I was?” he asks in a growly voice that makes my stomach tighten and more of that excitement explode in my chest.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t an anger management class.”
His eyes narrow as he plants one knee on my chest and pushes down, pressing his weight right into my sternum.
I let out a little oof as the air is forced out of my lungs.
He’s still glaring daggers as he grinds his knee into me, pushing so hard my chest can’t expand, and all I can do is gasp like a fish out of water as I try to breathe.
“It’s Wednesday.” He leans even harder on his knee, his voice eerily quiet. “And I just got back from the library stacks.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat, but all that comes out is a pathetic gurgle since he’s still cutting off my air.
The burning in my chest begs me to breathe, but there’s a strange undercurrent, something that mixes and mingles with the fear and panic that makes me feel alive.
“How?” he demands. “How did you know about them?”
I tap on his knee, reminding him that I can’t talk if I can’t breathe.
Roughly, he pulls his leg back, but instead of giving me a chance to answer, he grabs my shirt and hauls me right off the couch. I can’t get my feet under me as he drags me across the room, and all I can do is stumble along until he slams me against the wall.
“How?” he demands again.
“I saw them,” I wheeze, my chest tight from the impact.
“How?”
“I followed her down there.” I can’t stop the little smirk-smile I feel tilting the corner of my mouth.
He blinks at me in confusion.
“I overheard her complaining to one of her clones about how gross the stacks are and how she can’t believe he likes hooking up in there. I knew she wasn’t talking about you, and I was curious, so I followed her. It wasn’t hard to figure out this is a weekly thing.”
“How long has it been going on?”
I shrug as best as I can while still being pinned to the wall. “No clue. But I saw her go down there three weeks in a row.” I give Killian an innocent look. “And I’m guessing she’s keeping the streak alive?”
He glowers at me, his eyes flashing with so many emotions it’s hard to pinpoint them all, but the most prominent is anger.
I can’t stop my grin. I can’t explain why, but Killian’s anger makes me feel alive. Like I can finally unlock the cage I’ve put around my own emotions and just let them run wild and free like he does.
“Why the fuck are you smiling?” He bumps his chest against mine and my back cracks from how hard I’m pushed into the wall.
“Because I know her type,” I say, still grinning like the Joker at him. “And it must really sting that she’s tossing you aside for him. I mean, I’m insulted for you.”
Killian pushes me a little harder against the wall, another one of those primal growls escaping from deep in his chest. “Shut. Up.”
“Why?” I ask, pretending like I don’t see that he’s a few seconds away from rearranging my face. “I was just going to say that I’ve seen how he fucks, so unless you’re even worse than that, she’s not upgrading with him in any departme?—”
My speech is cut off as Killian slams his forearm against my upper chest, then slides it up until it’s across my throat.
He’s not pushing hard enough to hurt, but it’s enough that I can’t pull in a full breath.
“I could end you right now if I wanted to,” he says conversationally.
“All it would take is for my arm to slip a little.” He pushes harder against my throat, effectively cutting off my air.
“They say the average person can hold their breath for between one and three minutes.” His grin is as menacing as it is deranged.
“But I imagine you can do better than three minutes,” he continues, like he’s not in the process of strangling me. “What do you think, Fefe? Can you hit four, maybe even five minutes?” He stares into my eyes, and the look in his sends the strangest mix of sensations through me.
The edges of my vision go a bit shimmery, and the world takes on a strange tone, almost like I’m seeing through a filter. Colors are brighter, shapes are sharper, but everything is moving out of sync. Like my vision is a half second off from reality, so things just don’t match up.
“You know what most people get wrong when they try to suffocate someone?” he asks.
His tone is still conversational, but his expression is as intense as I’ve ever seen it.
“They let go too soon. They forget that passing out is the body’s way of protecting itself and going into automatic mode.
If you let go as soon as they pass out, then they’ll just start breathing, and you’ll have to do it all over again. ”
He leans closer, stopping when his nose brushes against mine.
“Have you ever seen someone suffocate before?” he asks, his hot breath ghosting over my face.
“I have.” His grin is dark and sinister.
“It’s a mind fuck to watch. To see the fear slowly take over until that moment when they realize it really is the end and there’s nothing they can do. That moment is…everything.”
My chest is on fire. I grip his arm, but I don’t try to pull him off me. I can’t be sure if that’s because I know he’s way too strong, or if it’s because I don’t want to fight.
“Do you have any idea how fucking incredible that feels?” he asks in a low voice. “To have that kind of power over someone? To be in complete control if they live or die? It’s a fucking rush.”
My lungs are screaming at me to breathe, but I don’t struggle or try to fight him.
“I’ve never gotten to do it like this,” he says, lowering his voice even more and leaning in so his lips are next to my ear. “Never used my hands or been this close to the action.”
Another of those weird shivers moves through me as his breath tickles my skin.
“It’s so much better than watching from across the room,” he whispers. “So much more intense.”
His lip brushes against my ear, and I jerk like he just poked me with a cattle prod as my entire body is flooded with a rush of sensations.
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and my limbs go heavy with pins and needles, like there’s an electric current running through me, cracking just under the surface and ready to light me up from the inside at the slightest touch.
Warmth fills my chest, shifting the pain into a gentle buzz of something that feels good.
Killian’s stare is intense as he watches me, and for some fucked-up reason, my body tightens.
The combination of not being able to breathe and feeling his big, powerful body against mine is too much for my oxygen-starved senses, and my cock grows hard against his hip as a low hum of pleasure buzzes through every part of me.
Killian laughs, low and raspy, and presses against my cock. “My, my, my. Is little Fefe into this?” He arches one eyebrow and pushes harder against my dick.
My eyes flutter closed as a rush of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt hits out of nowhere.
“Look at me,” he orders, loosening his hold on my neck so I can pull in some air.
I force my eyes open.
He’s studying me like I’m some sort of science experiment. “You like this,” he says, a smirky smile on his full lips.
He pulls his arm off my throat, but before I can do more than suck in a desperate breath, he wraps his hand around it and presses against my windpipe.
“Do you want to know a secret?” he asks, his lips next to my ear again.
I shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin and sets off another flurry of tingles and good feels that light me up from the inside.
“There’s a way to do this that feels even better.” He shifts his hand so instead of squeezing my windpipe, he’s compressing the arteries on either side of my neck.
Instinctively, I pull in a gasping breath. A strange, floaty feeling settles over me, but instead of dulling the world around me, everything explodes in a burst of color and light.
His chuckle is low and throaty as he grinds against my dick again, and the bolt of pleasure that tears through me chases every thought from my mind other than one.
More.
I draw in another gasping breath, and my eyes roll back in my head as he slides his hand between our bodies and cups me.
“You’re so hard.” He palms my cock through my clothes.
I buck into his touch, unable to stop myself as more of that delicious pleasure hits me.
“I bet it wouldn’t take much to make you come.” He slips his hand under my sweatpants and loosely grips my dick through my briefs.
My hips move of their own accord as I try to rock against him, desperate for even the slightest bit of friction.
He laughs again and squeezes me hard enough that I’m momentarily frozen by the pain.
Killian relaxes the pressure on my arteries and gently presses on my windpipe. I can’t do more than draw in short, shallow breaths that are barely enough to keep me conscious, and a rush of sensation hits at the sudden switch.
Stars explode in my vision, and I arch into him, desperate for more, but I have no idea what to ask for.
“You love this.” He gives me a few rough strokes, and the fabric of my briefs scrapes painfully against my skin. “Who knew you were such a freak under your perfect robot facade?”
I don’t even pretend to fight as he slides his hand into my briefs and grips my cock.
“Imagine if people knew what a little slut you are?” There’s something different about his voice.
There’s heat in it, an almost sultry undertone that’s way hotter than it has any business being.
“What do you think they’d say if they knew you didn’t just let your stepbrother get you off while choking you out, but you fucking loved it? ”
A low moan rumbles out of me, and I’m too disoriented to even begin to try to unpack how fucked up it is that his words are affecting me almost as much as what he’s doing to me.
“I bet they’d call you a slut.” He gives me a long, slow stroke. “Are they wrong?”