Chapter 37 – King
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
KING
Iwill never take for granted getting to wake up with Mason’s back against my chest, my arm wrapped around him, and my mouth tantalizingly close to his skin. Close enough to bite, lick, and taste whenever the hell I want to. I press a kiss on his shoulder blade, and he groans in his sleep.
And now I want him. Of course I do—I always fucking want him. How am I supposed to resist his naked body when it’s pressed up against me? There’s something cathartic about being in this room. The place I first kissed him. The first place we—
“Your cock is digging into my ass,” he grumbles.
I nuzzle his neck and pull him closer. “I was thinking about the first time I fucked you. Is it any wonder I’m hard?”
He snorts. “You’re always hard.”
I nip his skin in warning. “Yeah, around you, as we established some time ago.”
Laughing, he rolls onto his back, and his dark eyes bore into mine. “It was my first time, period. Not yours though.”
True. I fucked plenty of girls before I met Mason. Fucked a fair few after too. I was a prize jackass. “My first time with a guy though,” I remind him.
He traces his fingertips over my cheek. “I remember that you didn’t seem a bit nervous, but I was shaking like a goddamn leaf.”
The memory makes me smile. He was so fucking cute back then—a cocky fucker out in the real world, but when we were alone, he was all nerves and anticipation.
Same as me. “I was nervous. I just hid it better than you.” My first time with him was a bigger deal than losing my virginity to Penny Harper in the back of my car.
A much bigger deal. I knew I liked boys from the age of twelve when I developed a huge crush on my fifteen-year-old math tutor.
No girl had ever made me feel that way before, and none have since, no matter how much I tried to like them the same way I liked boys.
The few boys I kissed before Mason cemented my preference.
That stopped when my father caught me. I was thirteen, and the punishment he doled out scarred me for life.
So, like the good son I wanted to be, I did everything I could to bury those feelings deep.
I was pretty good at it too. Until I met Mason.
As much as I tried, I couldn’t stay away from him.
Couldn’t deny the pull between us or do anything to stop the way being with him made me feel more alive than anything ever had before in my life.
He’s the first guy I ever did anything more than kiss.
He scarred me too—left an indelible imprint on my heart and soul.
I roll on top of him and run my nose over his throat, inhaling the smell of his skin. His scent has always made my mouth water. Before him, sex was something I felt I had to do. It was a release, nothing more. “I remember how fucking good it felt to finally slide into your tight ass.”
He groans. “Yeah, you made me wait for fucking months. Jerk.”
I grind my dick against his, and he’s as hard as I am. “Only until you were sixteen, baby.”
He slides his hands up my back and wraps his legs around my waist. “So you were a responsible jerk, but still a jerk.”
“Do you remember how good it was?” I drag my teeth over his Adam’s apple.
“How you moaned out my name when you came all over us both?” I fucked him like this after weeks of teasing and prepping him with my fingers, and I felt a euphoria like I’d never experienced when I sank my cock into him that first time.
I can still recall the warmth of him, how tightly his muscles squeezed my shaft.
Nothing between us as I emptied my load inside him.
I’d never been stupid enough to fuck a girl without a condom and risk the continuation of the Worthington gene pool.
Mason slides a hand between us, gripping our cocks in one hand. “Yeah, I remember. And I remember how hard you came, King. I watched your eyes roll back in your head.”
I hum my agreement. “Nobody has ever made me come as hard as you do, Mase.” I reach for the lube and push myself off him long enough to lather up my cock.
“And nobody ever will, Hotshot,” he says, and there’s a possessive hint of warning to his tone that makes me harder for him.
Nineteen years after the first time we did this and I’m as eager for him now as I was back then.
Anxious, skinny teenage Mason, or cocky-as-fuck and built-like-a-Greek-god Mason—both of them do the same for me. Drive me feral with desire.
“I’ve waited a long damn time to fuck you bare again, Playboy.” I drop to my forearms, and he wraps his legs around my waist again, guiding himself onto my dick. I love that he wants this as much as I do.
I inch the crown of my cock inside him and hiss out a breath before I push past the tight ring of muscle and into the heaven that awaits me.
“Motherfuck! You feel so good like this.” I grit out the words as euphoria shuttles around my body.
He reaches for his cock, but I bat his hand away.
“Nuh-uh, baby. Let me fuck it all out of you.”
He groans, biting down on his bottom lip before he nods.
I sink all the way inside him. “That’s my good boy.”
He bands his arms around my back, and I rest my weight on him, pressing my mouth into the crook of his neck where I can bite and lick and suck while I fuck him.
And I can’t help but think of those two kids, fucking for the first time, awkward and unsure, having no real idea of the heartache that was waiting for us.
But we’re not kids anymore, and we know exactly what we’re doing.
He bears down, allowing me to sink deeper, and our bodies move in unison, slick with perspiration as we take what we need from the other.
Our groans and moans fill the room along with the sound of my skin slapping against his.
White-hot pleasure sizzles in every cell of my being.
A tornado could tear through this house and I wouldn’t stop this.
Couldn’t stop it. He is everything and everywhere.
Flooding my senses until I’m made up of nothing but need.
“King, please?” He squeezes his eyes shut as he veers close to the edge.
I rest my mouth against his ear. “I know, baby, almost there.”
His hard cock throbs against my abs, and I rub against his shaft with every thrust in and out of him.
“Fuck!” he shouts, and warmth spreads between our chests. Sticky and incredible.
I rest my forehead against his. “Such a good fucking boy the way you come for me.”
“Yeah,” he moans, and the sound of him undone, along with his tight ass rippling around my shaft, is enough to tip me into oblivion with him.
Dalton James’s gruff voice snaps me from my thoughts. “Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?” He’s at the counter with his back to me, pouring himself a coffee. I glance around the kitchen, expecting to see Mason, but it’s only Dalton and me.
He must be addressing me. I clear my throat and answer, “Yes, sir.”
“Sir?” He barks a laugh. “You make me feel old.” He sits down at the table opposite me, his gray eyes twinkling.
“Old habit.” I shrug, pushing down the memory of my father slapping me at the dinner table any time I didn’t address him as sir.
He checks his watch. “It’s not like Mason to not have left the house before eight-thirty. Did you two stay up late?”
Holy shit. He heard us fucking, didn’t he?
Thanking Christ for my poker face, I keep my expression neutral and pretend I don’t give a shit that he knows I’m fucking his son.
But I would prefer the ground to open up and swallow me whole right here.
He sips his coffee and goes on watching me, and I realize I didn’t answer his question.
“Not really. It was just nice to sleep a little late.”
“Ah,” he says with a wistful sigh. “I can’t recall the last time I slept past six.
My body clock is a stubborn old gizzard and refuses to believe we’ve retired now.
” He carries on chatting about everything and nothing, and it’s obvious that Dalton James doesn’t give a damn if I was fucking his son all night.
Not because he doesn’t care about Mason, but because he truly doesn’t care that he’s gay.
Of course, I knew Mason’s family accepted him for who he is, but it’s another thing entirely to see it play out.
I saw it last night too, but here, sitting with his dad who was raised in the same generation as my parents, casually chatting about the mundane, it feels all the more real and poignant.
It’s like a punch to the gut when I finally realize that this is normal.
On some level, I always knew my family was fucked up, but now it’s staring me right in the face.
Mason steps into the kitchen, looking edible in a fresh shirt and suit and smelling of that expensive cologne he wears.
“I hope you saved me some coffee.” As he walks past me, he stops to plant a quick kiss on the top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And perhaps it is. It sure feels like it sitting here in this house, and I’m full of gratitude that the person I love more than anything in this entire goddamn world got to grow up in a place like this.
It gave him the compassion to deal with someone like me.
Smiling, Dalton watches Mason pour a mug of coffee. “I know better than to take the last of the coffee when you’re around, son. Like a grizzly bear with a hornet’s nest up its ass.”
Mason laughs and takes a seat at the table with us. God, I love him so fucking much. I want to launch myself over the table and kiss him. What the hell has happened to me? “What are your plans for today, Pop?” he asks his dad.
“Maddox is taking me for lunch at that vegan place he’s working at.
He assures me it will make me renounce my love for meat.
” He pulls a disgusted face. “After that, Amber’s taking me shopping.
I need a new shirt or two.” He pulls at the collar of the one he’s wearing.
“Then I’m going to get myself a haircut and a shave. ”
“A full day.” Mason grins, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going on a date, then?”
Dalton sips his coffee. “None of your beeswax.”
“That means he is,” Mason stage-whispers to me, shooting me a wink that does nothing to lessen my desire to have my mouth on him.
“One of us James men has to get out there.” Dalton huffs a laugh. “Seeing as how all my sons seem to be falling in love and settling down.”
I swallow hard, waiting for Mason to dismiss his father’s claim, but he doesn’t. Sure, he told me that he loves me, but that his family knows too feels like another huge step. “Mad hasn’t,” he says casually, showing no sign of unease at his father’s assessment of our relationship.
“Well, Maddox is different. He doesn’t date. But I have no doubt he’ll find the right person for him.” Dalton nods once. “He has an energy that attracts good people.”
Mason hums his agreement, his eyes on me again.
I wonder what kind of energy Mason has that he attracted someone like me.
The glutton-for-punishment kind? The life-full-of-secrets kind?
Because as good as this feels, I’m worried it will all come crashing down around us again, just like it did before.
I only hope that if that does happen, I’ll be strong enough to pick up the pieces and put us back together.