6: This is hot!

DEREK’S POV

Seeing Aleks Mcray down on his knees is the single most surreal thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

The untouchable ice prince of Formula 1—the guy who won’t even let journalists shake his hand if they’re sweating—is kneeling on the floor between my feet.

His head is tilted up, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck are pulled tight.

He’s looking directly into my face, holding my gaze like he’s trying to prove he isn’t breaking.

I forced him down to show him that I hold all the power. That he can’t look down on me. That he isn’t better than me.

So why does my pulse feel like I’m pulling 5Gs into turn four?

“Well?” I rasp, my voice rougher than I mean it to be. “What are you waiting for, Mcray?”

Aleks doesn’t answer immediately. He stays completely still, his chest rising and falling in short breaths.

Slowly, he raises his hands. His fingers hover for a second over my belt buckle, trembling just enough to show the nightmare going on inside his head before he grips the leather.

The cool brush of his knuckles against my stomach makes my breath catch.

“You think this gives you control over me, Derek?” Aleks whispers.

He tilts his chin higher, his eyes locked onto mine as his fingers slowly unbuckle the leather strap.

“You think having me on my knees makes you the winner?”

“Shut up,” I growl, trying to keep my voice steady and the ruthless smirk on my face. “You don’t get to talk down to me from down there.”

“I don’t need to talk down to you,” Aleks murmurs, sliding the belt out through the loops with an agonizing drag. “Look at your hands, Derek. You’re trembling.”

He’s right.

My jaw tightens as I stare down at him, my knuckles white around the phone.

“You want me to do this?” Aleks asks softly, his hands moving to the button of my jeans, his warm breath hitting through the fabric. “Then put the phone away.”

“Not a chance,” I bite out, stepping an inch closer until the front of my jeans brushes against his chin. “You do what I say, or I press send.”

Aleks lets out a small breath against my skin, a sound that sends a violent jolt of electricity straight down my spine.

His long fingers undo the metal button.

“Your funeral, Derek,” he whispers.

Then he reaches in, his warm, bare hand wrapping around my cock, and I completely forget how to breathe.

He’s doing it. He’s really going to do it.

I choke back a gasp, my knuckles turning white as I stare down at him.

Aleks doesn’t break eye contact for a single second.

Slowly, he leans forward. His warm breath brushes over my head right before his lips wrap around me.

My mind goes completely blank.

A violent wave of heat surges through me, making my legs go weak.

“F-fuck, Mcray…” I groan, the raspy sound tearing out of my throat before I can stop it.

I try to keep my cool. I try to hold onto the triumphant feeling of having him broken at my feet, but the sensation of his throat tight around me wipes away every coherent thought in my head.

He’s taking me deep. He’s moving like he’s been sucking dick his entire life.

It’s unhinged.

It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.

I should be disgusted, I shouldn't be hard. But this is is so hot…

My breath turns ragged. I reach down, my free hand burying into his soft blond hair, my fingers tangling in the strands to hold him in place as my hips jerk forward on instinct.

Aleks lets out a muffled sound against my dick, his throat working harder around me.

The vibration sends a wave of static through my nerves.

He tilts his head back just enough to look up at me through his lashes, his mouth still full of me.

There’s no innocence in his gaze. No shame.

Just a volatile hunger that matches my own, completely shattering the illusion that this is just a punishment.

“Aleks…” I choke out. “Fuck—stop staring at me like that…”

He doesn’t stop.

He pulls back slowly, leaving just the tip resting against his damp lips. He takes a shallow breath, his chest heaving under his sweater.

“You like this, Derek?” he whispers, his voice ruined and raspy as he looks up at me from the floor. “You like having my mouth on you?”

“Shut up,” I growl, tightening my grip on his hair. “Keep going.”

A wicked shadow of a smirk touches the corner of his lips before he sinks all the way back down, taking every inch of me back into his mouth.

I throw my head back against the sofa, my eyes shutting tight as the pleasure pulls me under.