CHAPTER FOUR
SAINT
The outside world of the city I stalk is plain, quiet, but underneath all the normal modern life hassles are secrets. Tons of them. Secrets that have kept the King family together for over a hundred years. Secrets that have become a part of who I am and what I fight for.
What matters most to me is loyalty. Not just surface-level loyalty, but the kind forged in generations of blood.
Kingston City is the place where my family had built a name. We became so powerful that we named the city after ourselves.
As a child, my grandfather taught me one simple rule. Intimacy is weakness, and vulnerability is failure. I am abiding by his doctrine, wielding desire in my thumb, forcing it to surrender to me.
Except time had taught me that he’s right. Because even desire slithers like a venomous snake. It bites. It stings. It penetrates, and it becomes something you can no longer live without.
I have carved this truth into my skin.
Inevitably, desire breeds emotion, which breeds destruction, and destruction will sculpt the downfall of my family’s empire.
An empire built on the strength and blood of my predecessors.
An empire I have given my life for.
An empire that cannot fall under my command.
To keep the power my father passed on to me, I have to bind myself to a vow I will break whilst keeping my sickness locked away in the darkest part of my heart.
No one can know the truth about me.
The forbidden desire that lurks in the shadows with me. That whispers a hiss like a snake that wriggles in the dark part of my soul. That I have hidden from my entire family.
I’m standing outside the most popular club in the city.
The Red Horn Club.
A neon, long, thin red tail with arrow-shaped tip curled around two red horns rests on the top of the building.
Inside the club is midnight decadence. The air smells of expensive cologne, smoke, and the faint sweetness of top-shelf liquor.
Deep music floats through the space, making the crowded, damp bodies on the dance floor sway to the unmistakable bass beat.
Warm, low lighting glows beneath black marble floors, giving the illusion of elegance.
What lies beneath the murk of sin is even more dangerous.
It is where the real deal happens.
Poker rooms. Drug rings. Private suites. A strip club.
I move through the hallway, watching bodies writhe in a haze of sex and sweat through the high rise. I hit the button once I reach the end, and the door cladding opens into the enclosed space.
Sighing, I step in, and the machine whirs as it rises to the top suite of the building.
The place I paid for.
As the elevator stops, I step into the hall, where a VIP raised deck overlooks everything. I smile at the dark-haired lady in an all-blue suit sitting behind the counter. She nods only once as I head into the suite.
I shut the door behind me and take off my long tailcoat jacket, draping it on the chaise lounge as I scan the room.
Empty.
Where the hell is he?
He’s never late. He never misses a day. He knows the consequences if he does, so why isn’t he here?
As the door clicks behind me, my hand moves on instinct, resting on my gun holster. I turn on my heels and meet the middle-aged, voluptuous woman in charge of the private suites and strip club.
Madame.
She has a full-face makeup glam with dark purple hair that cascades down her back. Her lips lift in a small smile, but I don’t entertain her antics.
“Where is he?” I lift my hand from the gun. I pull off my suspenders, and it hangs off my waist.
She clears her throat and looks at me. “He quit. He left the city…”
“Quit? Did you not pay him well? Did he not like our arrangement?”
“I’m not sure, sir,” Madame whispers. “I don’t know why he’s disappeared, but do not worry. We have someone new.”
“Someone new?” The thought of someone different from the guy I have been fucking for the past three months walking through those dark wood doors unnerved me.
“I inspected him personally, and he’ll be up here for you soon.”
“Has he signed the NDA? Gotten all required tests?”
“Yes, he’s negative, compatible and…” her voice slows. “Submissive.”
Something in me swells and pops into warmth.
A body to control. To consume. To praise and degrade.
My rule is simple. Any whore that my dick fucks will sign a non-disclosure agreement. If he breaches the contract by whispering what happens in this room, I’d simply take the law into my hands as stated in the form and blow his brains out.
“Good.” I turn away from her and walk to the side table, which has a display of expensive, strong drinks, filling an empty glass whilst she leaves the room. I take a swig and look through the dark glass windows that frame the city.
After a while, the door unlocks behind me, and I look over my shoulder just as a young man with an athletic build walks into the space.
He wears a black mask that covers part of his face, revealing the brown highlights in his irises.
The moment our eyes meet, something in me comes to life. I drink in the sight of him with a hunger that doesn’t feel like desire, but recognition.
It’s ethereal and…
It scares me.
I don’t do feelings. I never have. And this man right here won’t make me change my rules. I won’t let him.
Yet I wonder how he will sound when I have him on his knees. I’ll make him worship me with his every breath. I’ll take him apart piece by piece, consume him until he’s unable to recover.
Will those pretty brown eyes turn black when he can’t digest the intensity of my devotion?
The amber light cast over his dark brown skin, making him almost irresistible. He holds himself up and breathes out quietly. The way he carries himself makes my blood rush in anticipation.
A minor detail catches my attention. A scar on the left side of his lower abdomen.
I do not believe in moments like this. I never have. I should look away. But this stranger already captures my attention in a way I can’t explain.
There’s something else I see when I look at him.
Something dark and untamed.
None of the men I have fucked in this place has ever caught my attention the way he does the moment he stepped into this room.
So, I bury those feelings.
The intrigue.
The attraction I have for him.
The defiance I see. I seal them away in a box, chaining it shut so nothing gets out.
I hold the glass to my lips as I continue to take in every curve, every flex of muscle. His lips lift into a smile, and I throw the rest of the drink down my throat, then set the glass on the table. “Come here,” I demand, and he closes the gap between us.
My hand lifts to his jaw, and my grip tightens, eyes assessing him as I ask.
“Name?”
“Rose.”
“When I ask you a question, answer with sir,” I say. His nose wrinkles, just slightly, before he smooths it away. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” He mumbles.
My thumb caresses his stubble. He gasps. That sound is enough to raise my intense gaze to meet his.
I take an antidote for this incurable sickness, and I never let it dig its claws into me.
I’ll never let him control me.
“Strip,” I command and sit down on the chaise lounge chair. I lift my right leg and place it on the left.
His hands hesitate at the band of his shorts, and his eyes flicker to me before he forces them to move.
Raw heat prickles my skin, sending blood straight to my dick. I watch the way his eyes burn with an emotion I can’t name, and I smile without a sound. My dick hardens beneath my pants.
He pulls off his shorts and stands completely stark and exposed in front of me.
“Do you understand why you are here?”
“Yes, sir. I signed the contract.” His lips tremble.
“Good, you understand you solely exist for my needs. That whatever happens in this room means nothing.”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“I pay you for your services and I want you comfortable.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice shakes.
“I love to have control, and I need your full surrender.”
“You have it, sir.”
“Good,” I nod. “Go on your knees and crawl to me.”
He sinks to his knees. For a moment, his hand stays against the rug, palm flat, breath steady. Then he moves, closing the distance inch by inch, shoulders rolling, gaze lifted through his lashes.
I spread my legs so that when he clears the distance between us, he kneels between my thick thighs. His hands tremble against me. He caresses over and inches closer to my throbbing dick.
“Show me.” My voice comes out rough, laced with burning lust.
With him this close, I see the warmth behind his eyes. Those deep brown colors. They are the prettiest eyes I have ever seen in my life. That thought sets a quiet part of me on fire.
His hands find the line of my length and brush against it in a feathery stroke. His gaze lifts, and he swallows. Is he waiting for a command, or maybe hesitating? I tilt my head to the side and watch him beneath the haze of lust.
He reaches for my belt. The buckle gives a muted metallic click that slices through the charged silence between us.
His knuckles skim my abdomen. His skin against mine sends a rush through me.
He works the zipper down. The faint scrape of metal teeth parting sends a sharp sense of awareness through my body.
With my dick freed, he strokes over the thick dark length as his gaze lifts, wide and raw.
He leans close as his thumb flickers across the vein that runs from top to bottom. He sticks out his tongue and flicks over the head, swiping off the pre-cum.
I draw in a sharp inhale, and he looks up at me, brows knitting with wonder.
Don’t give in.
My fingers cup the base of his skull to bring his head closer.
I grip the dense halo of hair and hold him steady.
I anchor him in place as he takes my dick down to the base.
The pressure of my length buried into him is delicate.
“Relax your throat for me.” I coo, hips thrusting forward.
My glans hits the back of his throat, and he gags.
He tilts his head back, cheeks hollowed, breath catching as he lowers himself onto me.
My gaze rests on him through lowered lashes. “That’s it.” I rasp.
His tongue flicks under my shaft, and I grunt, thighs tightening in pleasure.
Desperation sharpens every nerve in my body.
The sensation blurs with every bob of his head.
Every choking sound of my dick buried deep in his throat.
The heat of his mouth presses against me.
His tongue laps hungrily at my length, and when he looks up at me from those fucking dilated pupils, something in me erupts.
“God!” I grunt and roll my hips. He pulls back, and his hand wraps around my dick as he grips and strokes.
He spits on it and takes it back into his mouth.
I inhale sharply, cupping and caressing his jaw with my thumb as he drives me to the edge of pleasure.
My balls draw up, and my length tightens hard.
Cum rises through my urethra and he tightens his lips around my glans on my penis.
I withdraw my throbbing length, cumming all over myself.
“Fuck.” I swear. Pleasure hits me so hard I can’t dissociate from it.
I tuck my flaccid dick into my pants and zip up, body still spasming from the dangerously intoxicating climax. “Would you like to drink wine?”
“Anything you are having, sir.”
“Good enough for me.” I gesture to the bed, and he rises to his feet and plants himself on the king-sized bed. I remove my holster from my waist and put it on the table, then I pick up my phone and dial room service.
“Red wine, please.”
It doesn’t take long, and a knock comes against the door. Rose tries to get on his feet to get the order, but I stop him. “Stay.” I command and move toward the door.
“Thank you.” I whisper to the young man as I pick up my order from him. When I return to the center of the room with wine and two glasses, I set them down on the table and uncork the wine myself, filling both glasses.
My gaze slides to the young man, who’s still perched on the bed. His obedience sparks something in me. Something hungry and possessive that wants to claim him.
But that is not part of the deal.
It’s not part of the bargain I’ve made with the sick part of my soul.