“You’re such a…” I swallowed hard, searching for the words. “Such a fucking slut.”
I may have been semi-lost to the pleasure of getting my dick sucked, but I was lucid enough to know that the more filth I verbalized, the more I instantly wanted to die.
Actually, death would have been too kind. I needed to dissolve. Melt right through the floorboards of this ancient French château and seep into the foundations, never to be seen again.
That would be a kindness to all right now, myself first and foremost.
But the mouth working my length sucked harder, and my head flopped against the backrest and I was powerless.
“Oh yeah. That’s so…” I caught myself before I said anything too stupid and redirected my brain. “Keep going, you… you filthy, filthy cock-whore.”
Nope. That did not work.
“I’m sorry, mate. Fuck. I’m so sorry. That was—I didn’t mean—” The words tumbled out faster than I could stop them, even as I tried to keep the guy on my cock like that would somehow make it better. But he pulled off with an audible pop and glared at me through his elaborate blue mask, and I froze like a deer in the headlights.
I swear to God, the dude could strip paint with just a look. His dark eyes promised murder—beautiful, terrifying murder—even though his lips were red and swollen and wet. Some of his dark hair had escaped its bun, and the strands fell across the painted surface of his mask. It made him look absolutely debauched as he hovered over my saliva-slick cock.
Unable to withstand that glare any longer, I reached for his head, fingers sliding into his hair with what was supposed to be a commanding grip—the kind I’d seen in porn, all dominance, and control. Except somehow my hand just… patted him. Like I was comforting a mate who’d had a rough day.
For fuck’s sake, dude, get it together.
It really shouldn’t have been difficult to lose myself in the moment, especially when somebody who looked like him wanted to blow me.
Thankfully, he lowered his eyes and following my lame physical instructions, and then his mouth was closing over the head of my cock again.
I licked my lips and got back to business.
“Yeah. That’s right.” I growled a little afterward, like the big, dominant alpha man that I was. “Choke on it… bitch?”
The word came out as a question, and I knew it was the least convincing dirty talk in the history of dirty talk. Maybe ever. Possibly in all of human civilization.
Fuckin’ hell.
How had it come to this?
