His other palm moved to cup the alpha’s balls as he swallowed him back down, ready to try deepthroating a second time now that he’d worked himself up to it. His gag reflex kicked in again, but he let it, allowing saliva to pool in his mouth and drip from the corners of his lips as he bobbed slowly to the mid-point of that cock, never letting it fully leave his mouth as he worked.
He flattened his tongue and stroked against the underside of that thick shaft, making wet, gurgling noises as he continuously choked himself, the flared crown blocking his airways every time it hit the back of his throat and slid down a few inches.
Shiloh kept the pace slow, wanting to relish the act for as long as possible. When he was certain he’d worked them both up to a steady rhythm, he glanced up, catching the alpha’s eyes.
Sarang was staring at him with a look of pure shock, as though he was struggling to process what was happening between them.
Which wouldn’t do, because he was running out of time. Shiloh was going to lose his resolve soon, he could feel it just as surely as he could taste the musky tang of the alpha’s delectable precome. His hole was twitching, desperately wanting to be filled, and there was slick between his crease, rolling down his balls. He’d passed being hard himself forever ago, and he was wound so tightly, he was like an elastic band about to snap.
Once that happened, it’d be game over.
The alpha needed to take his chance before it was too late.
Maintaining eye contact, Shiloh moved his hands to the outside of Sarang’s muscular thighs, pressing pointedly against them so that they closed around his head. It took the alphalonger than it should have, but he saw the moment the underboss figured out what he was getting at.
With a relieved sigh, Shiloh closed his eyes and continued gorging on what was most likely going to be his last meal.
Chapter 10:
The little prince had been lying to him.
About how he could fight.
About how he could kill.
About how skilled he was with his tongue.
Sarang’s hips lifted of their own accord, driving himself deeper into that warm passage, groaning whenever he was deepthroated and he felt tight muscles constrict around his length. Listening to the sounds of the prince gurgling and struggling spurred his desire on. Watching the tears roll down Shiloh’s ruddy cheeks, seeing the glisten of saliva and precome on his lips and smeared across his chin—knowing it was his juices coating the omega’s skin and tongue—called to the primal urge within him.
He fought against the cuffs, but not entirely to get away. Instincts were screaming at him to gain the upper hand andcontrol his omega. That familiar, tortuous need to claim searing through his veins like fire, causing a burst of adrenaline and distress. It felt like if he couldn’t get Shiloh to submit, the world would come to an end.
Which was a ridiculous notion.
That internal war only grew worse when Shiloh met his gaze and then shifted to press against his thighs.
The second Sarang realized what he was getting at, he growled, a warning rumble making its way up his chest, the life-bond—the one the foolish, arrogant, conniving omega was still yet unaware of—cinching around his heart, almost as tightly as Shiloh’s throat around his cock, rankled by this turn of events and the mere suggestion that he end a life that he’d given his own to preserve.
Sarang couldn’t kill Shiloh even if he wanted to. The bond between them wouldn’t allow that.
But the prince didn’t know.
If he told him, would he believe him? Would Shiloh put a stop to this and give them a chance to talk it out? With anyone else, he’d call their bluff, but even if this person wasn’t the one he’d thought he knew, Sarang could tell he meant every word he’d said since dropping the act.
Shiloh wasn’t just suggesting Sarang strangle him with his thighs and his cock.
A part of himwantedthat.
And the fact that even a tiny sliver of his omega longed for death…
“Release me,” Sarang demanded, but Shiloh merely shook his head, cock still buried deep, and hummed so that vibrations traveled down the length of him. His balls felt the buzzing sensation and he struggled against the need to come, refusing to give in to any of Shiloh’s demands.
Was this a game? A trick? Was the prince messing with him? Punishing him?
For what?
“Your crush—”
Shiloh clamped down somewhat, dragging his teeth—lightly enough it didn’t hurt, but close enough the threat was clear—down his shaft, popping off the head with a messy sound that also had more come and spit spilling down his chin.
