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Imported Chocolates

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Jack munches on imported chocolates, sprawled out on a plush, velvet lounge. He idly plays with the gold jewelry dangling from his ears, his gaze wandering around the king’s study. Several royal advisors are standing in front of his majesty’s desk, delivering reports on the state of the kingdom. Jack catches one of them watching him, so he sensually licks the stickiness from his fingers. The advisor’s eyes widen before he quickly turns away, and Jack chuckles under his breath. Messing with these stuffy pricks always amuses him—it’s just so easy . His doe eyes, slim figure, and flawless skin make him rather enticing. He was chosen to be the king’s courtesan for a reason, after all.

“Out!”

Jack flinches, dropping the tin of candy. Silence envelops the room, and no one moves. Hans slams his fist on the desk, and the petrified advisors are startled into action. They scurry out of the office, and Jack looks over at the king with lusty, expectant eyes. He knows what comes next; he knows what he’s for.

“Come here,” Hans orders, and Jack adjusts the sheer, pink fabric barely covering his body before slowly rising to his feet. The king’s eyes harden, and his fingers grip the arms of his desk chair. “Now!”

Startled by the force of his command, Jack hurries to obey. He rushes over and scrambles to his knees as Hans stands. Hearing the jingle of the king’s belt, Jack wets his lips, but when his eyes shoot upward with desire, Hans slaps him. His head whips to the side, cheek quickly turning dark pink.

“I didn’t give you permission to look at me. Remember your place,” Hans hisses, tangling his fingers in his chestnut hair and shoving his face against his hardening cock. Jack whimpers, parting his lips in a submissive offering. Hans hums in approval, gripping the base of his dick and guiding himself into his waiting mouth. Jack immediately puts his talents to work, sucking enthusiastically and hollowing his cheeks.

“Greedy little whore,” Hans patronizes, but he allows Jack to continue until his cock is red and throbbing. Once he’s fully hard, he grips the back of Jack’s head and slams his cock down his throat. Jack gasps, choking as he forces himself as deep as possible and begins to thrust at a brutal pace. He braces himself against the king’s thighs, struggling to breathe with Hans’ cock pummeling his throat. His jaw quickly starts to ache, and his tears mix with mascara. The corners of his lips turn raw, and the force of it all overwhelms him, filling him with only the desire to breathe and give Hans what he demands.

Finally, Hans’s fist tightens in his hair, tugging painfully on his scalp, and he yanks his cock from his throat, coming across his face. Come burns like shame on his skin, gluing his eyelashes together and mixing with the drool smeared across his face. When he goes to wipe it from his eyes to ease the burn, Hans slaps him again.

“Wear it.”

Jack whimpers, and Hans grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pushes his face into the floor.

“Stay, slut,” he growls, and Jack obeys, keeping quiet and still even when Hans returns to his desk. He knows his place.