The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter Seventy Five

[A/N] Warning, warning. Keep parents, grandparents, children and loving animals away from your device when reading...

The room seemed darker now, I could see from the corner of my eye how some of the candle's flames had whispered out of existence, and yet the flames from the fireplace seemed to grow brighter, the fire's orange light flickering brightly, tinting Demosthenes skin a brief orange and casting shadows over his face.

The scent of him, the warmth, the soft silky sheets beneath me, it forced all of my senses to confront the fact that I was here and nowhere else. I knew that when I left his bed tonight and returned back to my cold room that I would dream about it, the strange feeling in my chest requesting that I bury myself in his covers and hide.

His eyes seemed to penetrate the first layer of my skin with the strict attention he paid me, watching me, and my breath hitched every time I looked and saw that gaze still following my every movement.

My hand was still on my cock, moving as slowly as he seemed to allow. I was hot and nervous and trying to avoid him seeing just how easily he set my body on fire. It shouldn't have mattered, because I was erect and naked beneath him. He knew, he knew. So who was I trying to convince?

Indeed the way his lips curved as he ran his hands down my thighs and I inhaled sharply I knew he was enjoying watching me respond so easily to every move he made.

Instead of resting his hands where they were, or possibly giving himself pleasure, he pulled my legs up and I looked up at him in surprise, my hands leaving my cock to hover in front of me.

"Put them back." He demanded sharply, and I jolted slightly, quickly placing my hands back on my cock, beginning to realise that as well as being a fine way to turn me crimson it was also a way of binding my hands without, this time, having to use a physical instrument.

He leaned forwards and reached out, his hand landing back on my neck. I swallowed as his fingers wrapped back around it, a firm grip almost tight enough to make my skin prickle. "Do you think me a kind man?" He asked me deceptively softly.

I looked up at him in surprise, wanting to grasp at the hand around my neck, a shiver of desire sliding through my body unwarranted. There was only really one acceptable answer, because even though my brain offered levels of confliction I knew he would accept no other response as the truth. "No, Your Majesty." I responded weakly, trying to keep arousal at bay.

He nodded slowly, a sly glint in his eyes. "I am not, and should you wish to know just how unkind I can be you will disobey me and be unruly. Try it, see how tenderly I treat you... see how reposeful my character is."

I swallowed, the words that would perhaps cause another man to run made me only feel more heated. Even trying to imagine him being kind when I broke a rule or strayed from a command was a feat not worth attempting, and imagining the opposite only made my cock jerk in my hands. "I wasn't... I won't..." 

He squeezed my neck with an even pressure and my hands on my cock trembled as I looked up at him, feeling sparks dance across my skin in my face. "You will..." He purred close to my ear. "Because you are a soft spoken, kind and gentle man, that innately knows what he wants despite his character. To be tamed, to fight me, to be restrained, to be held down and to ultimately lose and then finally to be punished, so deliciously that every inch of you is full of reminders, unavoidable marks of how sweetly you spread yourself before me and begged for release, begged to be had and held."