The silence stretches, my chest heaving, my throat catching. The word slips out before I can stop it. “King.”
Drew’s grin forms gradually and wicked, like an evil jack-a-lantern, victory seeping off of each syllable when he whispers, “Good boy.”
My stomach lurches, I want to barf every drop of stomach acid in my abdomen. I want to scream in unrelenting frustration. But I also ache to hear him say it again.
“There it is, that sweet harmony to my ears.” he chuckles. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that darling, that word slip from your pouty mouth.”
I swallow, throat dry, pulse racing. “I—I didn’t mean it.”
His grin sharpens, cutting through the drizzle. “Oh, you meant it. Your lips don’t slip like that unless your heart’s been screaming it all along.”
“Shut up.”
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“Say it,” he groans with his Manchester accent, attempting to command me with the flicker of his tongue. “Don’t think. Just give me the truth you’re choking on. Call me King again and feel how right it tastes, how it’ll feel settling those butterflies in your tummy.”
My chest heaves, caught between fury and arousal. “You’re sick in every fucked up way.”
“And you’re addicted,” he counters. “That’s the fun part. You can tell yourself you’re devoted to Charlie, but your cock answers to me.” He tips his sunglasses down, eyes gleaming like a beast's. “I own that twitch between your legs now, Lover Boy. Not him. Me.”
I grit my teeth, but the shame runs through, throbbing low in my belly. “You don’t own shit.”
“Then why are you still here?” he shoots back. “Why haven’t you run inside, slammed the door, tattled to your father, and called your golden boy? Because deep down…” He licks his lips, slow and frustratingly sexy like, “…you want me to keep stalking. You want me to hunt you.”
My hair sticks to my forehead, rain soaking through my clothes until I’m shivering in my bones. My cock is as hard as a steel rod. I crave him to chase me, but he’s disgusting.
A narcissist of the first tier and a mouth that would make Hades cover his ears.
Why the fuck am I entertaining this douchebag?
Because he’s sinfully hot, a duplicate of Charlie in the most sinister manner.
“Leave me alone,” I seethe, breath steaming in the rain-soaked air.
“Not a chance in bloody hell.” His chuckle rings low, too amused by my desperation. “I’m not letting you go, no matter where you run. Your King needs you.” He tilts his head, sunglasses glinting under the storm-light. “You could scamper off into the field like a tiny mouse, but I’ll be the black cat. The one that catches you between my teeth before swallowing you whole.”
My stomach gurgles, battery acid rubbing my throat, disgust churning with lust. Almost impossible to digest. His words of torment shouldn’t turn me on, they should make my cock shrivel like a tomato witnessing its first frost.
I grit my teeth, whispering, “You’re insane.”
“Insane for you,” he fires back without missing a beat. “You’ll see, Lover Boy. One day soon, you’ll stop pretending. You’ll kneel at my feet and call it home. Finally feel my choking hazard waiting beneath these pants.”
I hiss and storm back toward the house. Every inch of me is drenched. Rain plastering my linen shirt to my skin, precum slicking my cock against the tight confines of my jeans. My shoes squelch against the patio stones, each step a sloppy echo of my shivering body, caught between cold, lust, and fury. A knot so twisted it’s inconceivable to dissect, hard as diamond, unbreakable no matter how much I try to pry it apart.
I can’t do this anymore.
Not stand in the rain. Or spar with Drew’s smug and toothy grin. Or wrestle with the sick way his voice wraps around my ears, hissing like a serpent, pulling me into a filthy trance.
He’s driving me nuts in the most awful way.
The door slams behind me, muffling the storm, and the silence inside feels deafening. The quiet after the storm. My dad looks up from the couch, brows furrowed, but he has no clue of the cyclone ripping me to pieces. “You alright, son?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, wiping rain from my face. “Just—needed some air.”
I collapse into the nearest chair, trying to steady my breath, but Drew loiters. His voice drips through my skull like water seeping through cracks in a ceiling, echoing like thunder.Your King needs you.
