The Prey: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Oakmount Elite Book 3)

I blow out a breath and reach for his length. I’ve barely grazed the fabric of his pants when his hand comes out of nowhere, his fingers circling my wrist and halting any further movement. I whimper from the pain that radiates up my arm and try to pull back, but his grip only tightens.

I glance up at him, needing to understand what I’ve done wrong. He merely shakes his head when I open my mouth to speak. “No hands, Little Prey. We’re doing this my way and my way only. Do you understand?”

All I can do is nod.

“Good girl. I’m going to free my cock and then feed it into your mouth. You’ll take every single inch, won’t you?”

I nod again, but this time, that’s not enough.

“Tell me, tell them,” he urges.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His hold on me relaxes a smidge, and with a knowing smirk, he uses his free hand to pull out his cock. It’s thick and long, and I have to wonder how the hell he does anything with it. It stands straight up, then bounces back to rest against his stomach.

Oh God. I can’t do this. He’s going to choke me to death with it. I’m panicking, and I know it, but I also know I have no other option. I have to do this.

Taking his cock into his hand, he gives it one rough stroke as he says, “I’m going to fuck your throat, Little Prey. I won’t be gentle, and I won’t stop until I’ve painted the back of your throat with my release, do you understand?”

It’s not a question or demand. It’s a promise, and I can’t seem to shut down the small excitement and arousal I get from his words. I risk looking into his eyes once more, and what I see there makes it difficult for me to breathe. Dark, deep-rooted desire reflects back at me.

“Yes.” I nod.

He smiles. “You want me to come in your throat, don’t you? To treat you like my personal slut. Fill you with my cum, and use your body for my pleasure.”

It’s wrong. So fucking wrong, but his words, they spur me on. They give me the encouragement I need to play my part.

“Yes, please.” I bat my eyes at him.

I want, no, I need to prove myself to him, to please him. Braced on my knees with my thighs pressed into the couch, I lean forward, tentatively licking the thick, swollen head. He tastes like salt and smells both musky and clean. Not bad at all. I take the tip of him between my lips, and his thighs clench tight around my torso in response.

I suck the head of his cock back into my mouth and take as much of him inside as I can. Of course, he’s thick and long, so I don’t get very far, or at least, it feels like I don’t. My eyes water as I gag around his length, but I try to ignore that fact and hollow my cheeks out, sucking harder while gliding my tongue over the head before pulling back.

His thighs tremble against me, and I freeze. Does that mean he likes it? The thought makes my core clench and burn hot. How did I manage to make a man as callous and powerful as him tremble? Yes, I might be the one on her knees, but I’ve never felt more powerful in my entire life. Something about this moment is so exhilarating.

I want more. Need more.

The thought of pulling such a reaction out of him consumes me. And I repeat it all over again, this time sucking on him a little harder. This elicits a deep mewl from low in his throat, a sound that vibrates through my entire being.

“Look at me, Prey.” It’s an order, and I follow it eagerly.

With my eyes locked on his, he releases my wrist slowly. Then he leans down and retrieves the knife he’d pulled out earlier. Shit, I didn’t even notice that he put it away. It rests in his hand along the outside of his leg. Panic flutters through me briefly as I wonder whether he plans to carve me as Yanov did.

He merely tucks his thumb against the blade, though, initiating a shallow cut.

“Keep your eyes on me. Only I get to see how pretty you look while choking on my cock,” he growls.

I blink and look back at him, keeping my gaze locked with his as I drag my mouth up and down his length, taking as much of him as I can. When he flexes his hips up, forcing the head of his cock to the back of my throat, I start to struggle. I try to meet each thrust of his hips, but even I know I can’t take all of him.

“Relax, Little Prey. Unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders. I want to see how much cock that tiny throat of yours can take.”

Even though I’m afraid to do as he says, the desire to please him is more prevalent than any other emotion right now. So I drop my shoulders and let my jaw go slack.

Drool pools in my cheeks and dribbles out the sides of my mouth as he slips out and then threads himself back between my lips. I brace my hands on his thighs to give myself a little leverage, and he takes the opportunity to piston his hips forward.

A river of tears leaks from my eyes as he slides deeper, past my gag reflex and into my throat smoothly. I do my best to swallow against the pressure telling me I can’t take another inch. Yes. This feels right. I breathe through my nose and dig my nails into his thighs.

A small hiss of pleasure escapes his lips. And at that moment, it feels like I’ve won something, earned something.

“Yes, just like that,” he praises. “You’re doing such a good job taking my cock into your pretty mouth like a good girl. Letting me fuck your throat.”

His words flutter through me like butterflies, and I can’t help but work that much harder, if only to have him praise me again in his deep baritone voice. Anything to hear something good, something nice. I don’t get praised often…or ever, really.

I up the suction while taking him deeper into my mouth at the same time. His green eyes bore into mine, and I notice the tight clench of his jaw. It’s almost like he’s angry, but that can’t be. Maybe more unhinged?

I can’t be sure. Whatever semblance of control he has left slips away with every harsh press into my mouth. It only takes seconds for him to completely snap, and when he does, his fingers spear through the hair at the nape of my neck. Panic grips me with a vengeance while he presses my head down, forcing my nose against the base of his cock.

I dig my nails into his thighs and try to pull away, but his hold is steel, and the lack of oxygen makes me dizzy. Sensing this, he whispers harshly into my ear, reminding me once again of what I need to do.

“Breathe through your nose, Prey.”

More tears leak from my eyes and trail down the apples of my cheeks. Even though I know what to expect, I’m still unable to stop myself from panicking when he does it a second time, especially when it seems like he’s trying to choke me to death.

He lifts his hips and drives my head down into his lap, making my chin bounce on his balls. I whimper around his length, unable to suppress the response. I’m not sure if it comes from a place of fear or arousal…maybe both? It doesn’t really matter because when the sound reaches his ears, I swear I hear him respond with a growl of approval.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven. How will I live without it now that I know how good it feels?” His whisper is feral, sharp like the knife blade pressed against his thumb.

I blink through teary eyes and try not to think about what that means while he fucks my face harder. Does he get off on pain? The ache in my jaw intensifies, and I squeeze my eyes shut to focus on finishing the job. Sebastian isn’t having that, though.

“Hell, no. Fucking look at me, Elyse. Now,” he snaps. “I want to see your face when I come down your throat.”

I immediately snap my gaze back up, even though I can barely see his face swimming behind a layer of tears, but that one quick look is all it takes to see how close to the edge he is. His entire body is strung tight like a bow; his jaw clenching tight, his nostrils flaring with every sharp inhale.

It occurs to me, then, that I want this. I want to make him come, to see him vulnerable and at my mercy. To see him unravel at my touch. The desire encourages me, so I match his brutal pace, gagging around his length while I struggle to take more and more of him. Strangely, the more I struggle, the more excited he becomes.

“Yes, fuck yes. Take me deep into your throat. Choke on me.” He tightens his grip on the back of my head and forces my head down, choking me with it.

I dig my nails into his thighs, trying to fight off the panic and spots that fill my vision. Meanwhile, I can feel my own arousal dripping down my thighs, my hard nipples grinding against the fabric of my dress.

I want this. I want him.

Without warning and with a guttural groan, he explodes, his grip tightening to the point of pain. I stop moving as thick, salty ropes of cum fill my mouth.

I gag at the intrusion, forcing myself to swallow. My cheeks burn, my mouth aches, and I can only imagine how my makeup looks.

A soft clap sounds from behind me, and that only amplifies my shame and embarrassment.

I just let him fuck my face in front of a crowd of people.

“That was well done,” the big man says, congratulating me.

Sebastian gently eases himself out of my mouth, and a trail of cum crosses my tongue to drip out of my mouth and back onto him.

“Clean it up,” he snaps.

I lean forward and tentatively lick his skin.

“You can do better than that.”

I swallow nervously and try again, sucking the head of his cock between my lips and cleaning up the errant drops. Once he’s satisfied, he tucks himself back into his pants. My thighs are wet, my jaw aches, and my throat is raw, but I’m hopeful that’s enough proof for Yanov.

It better be.

After a moment, Sebastian extends his hand to me and helps me to my feet. I move to stand beside the chair but make it all of one step before he’s tugging me down onto his lap. I perch on his thigh and lift my head slowly, just enough to see if anyone is staring at me.

The big man laughs heartily from the couch opposite us.

“You are your mother’s son, after all.” My quick peek shows him looking at me with a heavy-lidded gaze. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and then disappears again, the gesture making me shrink back against Sebastian reflexively. “I believe Yanov got the message; he left in a huff. Me, though…”

Something about his statement makes Sebastian tense, but I can’t bring myself to ask him if he’s okay. Not when I realize that Yanov is gone. I’m almost disappointed that I don’t get to see his face after what I just did.

Sebastian’s hold on me tightens, and I won’t lie— I like the possessive way he forces me to remain seated on his lap like I’m a trophy to display.

“I’m no longer interested. We’re leaving. There will be no negotiations today,” Sebastian announces abruptly, and for some reason, that terrifies me—probably because I know nothing will ever be the same between us after tonight.