He does that thing where he gets quiet instead of answering. Does he not like it? I know it’s a little on the nose…
But his blank stare morphs into an enticing grin. “Best gift ever, darling.”
“Only for you.” My dick twitches in my slacks as I take the toy from him, eager to use it to its full potential. “Pull your pants down.”
“We’re about to go to a very public gala with very public people,” he says. “I can’t hold up a persona with a toy up my ass.”
All I hear are excuses. “Don’t be boring, King.”
Rolling his eyes, Kingsley turns to the mirror and continues fixing his tie. He always looks sharp in suits, and the way his black slacks fit his thighs and ass right makes me want to take him right here, right now.
I come up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and press my chest against his back. Kingsley continues tying, pretending to be unbothered, but as I press soft kisses into the crook of his neck, he snickers.
I want to press soft kisses on his lips, too.
“Kingy, if you can get through the entire gala with a bullet in your arsehole, then I’ll know you can handle it,” I whisper in his ear. His hand stills on his tie as he stares at me through the mirror, confused. So I elaborate. “My cock.”
Kingsley’s teeth graze over his lip, and he bites down hard. “This is coercion.”
My fingers brush over his crotch, then rest there. “It’s not coercion if you know you want it.”
He doesn’t spare a second to think before he nods. Kingsley pulls his pants down, and I’m quick to help him get the boxers off.
I grip his plump ass cheek. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“If you keep calling me beautiful, I might think you aren’t as straight as you say you are,” he jokes.
My hand hits his cheek with a smack, and it shuts him up. That’s a conversation for when I’m not about to stretch his hole with my gift.
But Kingsley is definitely beautiful.
After drenching it in lube, I insert the toy slowly and carefully. It slides easier than I expected, his pink, puckered hole clenching around it perfectly. My dick pulses, wishing it were in there instead of the toy. Not yet.
I help him pull his pants up. “How’s it feel?”
He shifts his stance, face contorting. “Not bad.”
“Good.” Because it’s about to feelsomuch better than he knows.
On our way downstairs, I force images of old naked women into my mind. Anything to get this boner down. Based on the pained look on Kingsey’s face, he’s doing the same.
We meet up with Tommy and Shawn, who are already impatiently waiting for us. With the four of us in the car, the driver takes us to the gala on the other side of town.
When Kingsley invited Thomas and me to the art gala, I immediately agreed. He thought he’d have to do some convincing, but whatever Kingsley says, I do it like a robot taking commands. It should concern me—I bloody hate taking orders from others, but King isn’t others.
At least I can spin it as me doing whatever it takes to get closer to Kingsley. Because that’s what this is. That is all this is.My plan wasn’t to seduce the prince for the Requiem’s intel, but that’s what happened, and there’s no going back now, no matter the pain.
Toying with someone’s heart is crueler than a knife to the throat. The thing is, it’s not just Kingsley’s heart on the line here. It’s my own.
The second we’re out of Kingsley’s car, it’s a circus of cameras and shouting reporters, and Shawn ushers us through the mob like a bodyguard.
The gala is in a grand ballroom adorned with marble and priceless artwork, filled with a crowd so ostentatious it’s nauseating. We’re greeted by dozens before we make it into the building.
If there is one thing I haven’t missed in the two months I’ve been away from home, it’s the showy events. I’m always happy to show off my body in my suit and tie, but I dread the small talk. No, Brenda, I don’t want to hear about how your son got into Stanford and your daughter is getting married.
I get a glass of wine from the guy circulating, and I notice Kingsley’s holding one as well. Not sure if he’s drinking that or holding it, but his dull expression proves these events aren’t only a snoozefest for me.
A man and woman approach, roughly the same age as us. It’s obvious the jewelry alone costs more than some people’s car notes, and their formal wear doesn’t have a speck of wear in it.
