On the mental side? Austin is insecure, begging for the presence of a strong man. A son that was neglected by his father. Left to rot in the shadows while his father chased his own glory. Too distracted to see the boy standing there, whimpering for approval.
Don't worry, Lover Boy. I too, know what it feels like to be mistreated and abused. When you are my prince, you won't have a care in the world. They will all be about me. Your King.
I see Austin—every flaw and shard of beauty that he has. I’ll care for him in a way that he has never felt before. Wrap those broken flaws taut to my bed. Stretch them far enough to demolish them from our existence. So that he never has to question his own security ever again. I’ll be the answer he’s been waiting for his whole life.
His king. His dark salvation.
I’ll show his dad who the real man is. Who has the balls to show his son what a real bloke is really capable of. I know I’m a rare breed. Fit and commanding. Carved from the depths of hell. You don’t come across men like me more than once in a lifetime. I’m a black hole—sucking everything into my core, light, and hope. The humbling shadow that swallows the sun during an eclipse.
A man not afraid to use chains to get what he needs.
I can’t help that my passion for Austin is irresolvable, a passion that rattles my heart. He resists me when no one else dares. It's precisely what makes him so exquisite and novel. I know he’s fightinghis temptation for me, attempting to bury his lust beneath his fragile armor, pretending his innocence can hold out against me.
He’s been successful so far, but I know he’s about to crack, like a cement foundation buckling from the pressure. He’s moments from collapse. I can tell from the way his face shows weakness as he speaks with his father, Adam’s apple bobbing, obviously preoccupied by the fantasy of what I can offer him.
Perhaps he needs a little nudge to push him off the edge.
King:Hey Lover Boy. Everything okay in father's palace?
King:By the way, you will call me your King from now on…
I expect him to take a few minutes to reply, but seconds later:
Lover Boy:WTF how do you know where I am… You are creepy as hell.
King:Let’s just call it intuition.
King:I’m parked across the street when you are ready.When you are finally ready to embrace the truth.
I turn off my phone. Let him simmer on that. See how long it takes for him to burn up for me, like garlic sautéing in a stainless-steel pan, releasing the sweet aroma of desperation to penetrate the air.
He’ll be begging me to unlock the doors so he can see me, big ole eyes pleading to me. His lips quivering as he tries to fight back the tears.
King, please. I’ll do anything you ask of me.
Chapter 10
Austin
Drewmustbeafreakshow, first off, how did he follow me to my dad’s place? That black Rover doesn’t belong across the street, security would be on him within minutes, wondering why he’s parked in this neighborhood.
Secondly, he wants me to call him King? He has to be delusional, drunk on some egotistical power. The audacity that this man has. Sure, he is sexy, I’ll give him that, but I’m at my dad’s place with him and Jackson inside. What the fuck is he thinking?
He has to be fricking insane.
The worst part of this whole situation is that my body enjoys it, craves the way that Drew wants me, no matter what I tell him. My body craves the rush of adrenaline he sends surging through me. It’s ridiculous, he’s obviously a terrible person. But why does every drop of my blood ache for the darkness, every nerve on strike against the golden boy?
I could text him back right now, say—get the fuck away from me—and he’d probably burst in through the door like a crazed madman, taking it as an invitation. As if rules don’t apply to Drew Evans, only to suckers. I can see it, his perfect toothy grin, eyes widelooking for his prize. He’d tear me apart with Jackson and my dad on the loveseat.
My gut knots with guilt, but my cock doesn’t care. That’s the venomous poison he’s been offering, probably dripping it into my mouth while I’ve been sleeping. Slithering through my subconscious like a viper at night, prying my lips apart and tipping the bottle in, one drop at a time.
My pants begin to shrink around my groin, my little mountain growing from the thought of everything. The taboo, his ego, calling meLover Boy. Could Drew sneak in a window and fuck me in the guest room, while my dad is opening a bottle of Malbec in the kitchen?
What if my father walked in? What if Jackson did? The humiliation should terrify me, but the picture only makes me more erect, blood pumping to my cock.
Drew wants me destroyed and some vile corner of me wants to let him, just to give him a chance. Perhaps he’s a sweet guy in disguise.
I picture his slithering arms cage me, swarming black ink pushing me down into the foam, muffling my whimpers as he has his way with me, depriving my lungs of oxygen. While I comply with his order to call him myKing.
