“Joey,” he pants. “Yeah?” I murmur against his mouth, my palms smoothing over his ass. “I’m going to lie on this bed,” he says. “Okay?” “And you’re going to get up on this bed.” “Sure.” “And then you’re going to king me.” My confusion must be written across my face because Brad goes on without my having to ask. “Treat me like your throne, king, and sit on my motherfucking face.”
