Elliot squirms in my grip, his bare skin warm against my palm. “No, I’m not,” he whispers, but his back arches almost imperceptibly, pressing his ass more firmly against my hardness.
I can’t help but laugh, low and rich. The sound echoes off the corridor walls, surrounding us both. “Don’t lie to me, Elliot. Your body has been honest with me since the moment I laid eyes on you.” I lean closer, my lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Even when your words were still trapped behind that wall of denial, your cock knew what it wanted.”
His breath hitches, a small tremor running through him. I can feel his pulse racing beneath my fingertips where they press against his neck—rapid and desperate, like a trapped bird. But he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even try.
“Be a good boy,” I command, my voice dropping to a whisper, “and kneel for your king.”
I release my grip on his neck, stepping back enough to give him space to move. For a moment, he stands frozen, and I wonder if he’ll finally find the courage to run again—to prolong our game.
But then, with a grace that surprises me, Elliot sinks to his knees. There’s no hesitation now, no internal struggle visible on his features. His movements are fluid, eager even, as he turns to face me and settles back on his heels.
He looks up at me through those long lashes, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, acceptance of my claim. His lips are slightly parted, waiting. Ready.
The sight of him like this—on his knees before me, half-naked and willing—makes my balls tighten. This isn’t just about power or dominance. It’s about witnessing Elliot finally embrace who he is, what he desires at his core.
For the first time in my life, I truly feel like royalty, not because of my wealth or status, but because this beautiful man has chosen to surrender to me out of all the men he could have picked.
13
ELLIOT
Istare up at Julian from my knees, a strange calm settling over me. My pulse races, but the panic that normally follows these desires has faded to a distant whisper.
Julian’s hand moves to his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he unfastens it. The sound echoes through the corridor, matching the thundering of my heart.
“Open that pretty mouth for me,” Julian commands, his voice deep and rough with desire as he unzips his pants. “Show me how badly you want this.”
He pulls out his cock—thick, long, and already fully hard. My mouth goes dry at the sight. I’ve spent decades trying not to look, trying not to want, and now I can’t tear my eyes away.
I part my lips without hesitation. Julian guides himself forward, and as my lips close around him, a moan escapes me—a sound of pure relief, of finally getting something I’ve denied myself for so long.
“Now you’re learning,” Julian hisses, his fingers threading through my hair. “Take it deeper, baby. You were made for this.”
Each filthy encouragement makes me hollow my cheeks, take him deeper, desperate to please him.
“Look at you,” he growls, his breathing ragged as he watches me. “So fucking natural with my cock in your mouth.”
I lose myself in the taste of him and the way his breath catches when I swirl my tongue just right. Every groan I draw from him feels like a victory.
“Nobody’s ever seen the real you as I do,” Julian says, cupping my face with tenderly. “So magnificent when you stop pretending.”
I can’t help myself. As Julian’s cock slides between my lips, my own need becomes too much to bear. Without breaking rhythm, I fumble with my pants, freeing my painfully hard erection. The first stroke sends electricity up my spine.
“Fuck,” I moan around Julian’s length, the vibration making him hiss with pleasure.
I stroke myself in time with each bob of my head, each movement of my tongue. The dual sensations are overwhelming—his taste fills my mouth while my hand pumps my cock.
“Yeah, just like that,” Julian encourages, his voice husky as he watches me touch myself. “Show me how much you love this.”
And I do love it—God help me, I love every second.
Suddenly, Julian’s fingers tighten in my hair, yanking my mouth off his cock with enough force to make me gasp. Spit connects us for a moment before breaking as he pulls me roughly to my feet.
“Look at me,” he demands, pulling me close until we’re face to face, our breaths mingling.
His eyes burn into mine—intense, hungry. There’s no hiding from that gaze, nowhere to retreat.
“I want to feel you against me,” Julian says, his voice a rough command that sends shivers down my spine. “Want to feel that perfect cock rubbing against mine.”
