The King’s Weakness

Chapter One

~ Unwanted Interruptions ~

Soren

I slam into Kit with a deep, punishing thrust, my thick cock stretching him open as his smaller body jolts beneath me on the silk sheets.

A guttural growl rips from my chest, raw, uncontrolled, and nothing like the ice-cold mask I wear for the rest of the world.

Only he gets this version of me, the side that surfaces the second I’m buried inside him.

“Christopher, Jesus, you’re so tight,” I rasp, voice gravel-rough as I stare down at his flushed face.

His dark curls are wild against the pillow, sticking to his damp forehead, those pretty green eyes half-lidded and glassy with tears of pleasure. He’s so fucking small under me, delicate frame trembling every time I drive back in, and it makes something vicious and possessive twist in my gut.

“Taking me so well, naughty little thing.”

I brace my inked arms on either side of his head, the black tattoos flexing over tanned muscle as I grind my hips in slow, filthy circles, making sure he feels all of me.

My hand slides down, gripping his narrow hip hard enough to bruise…

marks that’ll remind him tomorrow who owns this body.

Who owns every gasp, every whimper, every clench of that tight heat around me.

He arches up, submissive and desperate, soft moans spilling from his swollen lips.

I lean down, dark hair falling into my eyes, and sink my teeth into the side of his neck, biting hard enough to make him cry out.

I suck the mark deep, tasting salt and him, then drag my tongue over it like I’m branding him from the inside out.

“Eyes on me, Kit,” I command, the words cold steel wrapped in raw hunger.

I pull back just enough to lock my gaze with his, watching every flicker of pleasure cross his face as I start fucking him harder, faster, the wet slap of skin echoing through the room.

“Don’t you dare look away. I want to see exactly what I do to you.”

My fingers wrap around his leaking cock, stroking him rough and relentless in time with my thrusts.

He’s so responsive… thighs shaking around my waist, hands clawing weakly at my shoulders like he can’t decide if he wants to push me away or pull me deeper.

It only makes me more obsessed; this body is mine.

These curls, this soft skin, this tight little hole that grips me like it never wants to let go…

every single part of him belongs to me. No one else will ever touch him; no one else will ever see him come undone like this.

“Such a good boy,” I growl against his ear, the praise rare, meant only for him.

I angle my hips, hitting that spot inside him that makes his voice break into a sob.

The bed creaks violently under us as I lose rhythm, pounding into him with brutal need, sweat sliding down my inked back.

My obsession burns hotter with every thrust…

watching his frame bounce beneath me, lips parted on my name like a prayer.

“Louder,” I snarl, tightening my grip on his cock, thumb pressing over the slick head. “Scream for me, Kit. Let the whole fucking city hear who you belong to.”

His lips part, a broken sound escaping instead of words, his body shuddering around me from the sheer size of me stretching him open. He’s overwhelmed again, always is when I lose control like this, but he manages to lift one trembling arm and tap weakly against my inked chest.

A low growl tears from my throat. I love hearing his voice, even when it’s nothing but wrecked little whimpers. I force myself to slow, hips grinding deep and lazy instead of slamming, though every muscle in my body protests.

I stare down at him, voice rough but quieter. “What is it?”

Kit whimpers first, soft and needy, before he manages to whisper, barely audible, “I think… someone’s waiting for you…”

My brow furrows. I follow the shaky direction of his pointing finger toward the door.

Sure enough, there’s a faint shadow lingering underneath it…

motionless and patient, like whoever it is knows better than to knock.

A darker growl rips out of me, cold and lethal, the obsessive heat in my veins instantly icing over into something far more dangerous. My jaw clenches so hard it aches.

Kit turns his face away from me, dark curls shifting against the pillow, eyes sliding shut like he’s trying to disappear.

The sight twists something sharp in my chest. I wish he’d be more comfortable around me, especially like this…

naked, marked, and still trembling. But I understand why he struggles; I’ve given him every reason to fear the monster I am to the rest of the world.

I grind into him once more, gentle this time, slow and deep, savouring the way he still clenches around me even now. Then I lean down and press a firm kiss to his jaw, right over the fading bite mark I left earlier. My lips linger there for a second, breathing him in.

With a displeased grunt, I pull out of him carefully, hating every inch of separation.

My cock is still hard and glistening with him, but the moment is ruined.

I reach for the sheets and pull them up over Kit’s smaller frame, tucking them high around his shoulders so not even a glimpse of his body is visible to anyone who might enter.

No one else gets to see him like this, ever.

I stand here for a moment, naked, tanned skin covered in ink and sweat, staring down at the covered bundle that is my Kit… my obsession.

I snatch the black silk robe from the chair and yank it on, fastening the belt with sharp, irritated tugs. The fabric clings to my skin, doing nothing to hide the hard line still straining beneath it, but I don’t have time to care.

I cross the room and crack the door open just enough to glare out, keeping my body blocking any view inside.

My voice comes out low and lethal. “What?”

Ray stands there, one of my best men, looking guilty under the dim hallway light. “Sorry to disturb you, boss. I know it’s late…”

I grunt, the sound pure annoyance. It’s the middle of the fucking night; interruptions like this make my trigger finger itch.

“Well, let’s not rush, shall we?” The words drip with heavy sarcasm as I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. I just want him to spit it out so I can get back to what matters.

Ray shifts uncomfortably, then pulls out his tablet and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Is the kid in there?”

I huff sharply, narrowing my eyes into slits. He knows damn well I don’t like anyone asking about Kit. The possessive heat in my chest flares hot and dangerous.

Ray immediately raises both hands in surrender. “I just didn’t think you’d want him hearing stuff like this.”

I stare at him for a beat, jaw tight. “Give me a minute. Wait for me in the study.”

“Of course, boss.”

I shut the door in his face, the click echoing too loud in the sudden quiet.

My gaze flicks back over to the bed. Kit’s curled onto his side now, facing away from me, the sheets pulled high around his smaller frame.

The moment we were sharing is completely shattered, and the loss of it sits like lead in my stomach.

I strip off the robe and pull on a pair of black trousers, fastening them with quick, efficient movements.

Even at this hour I refuse to be seen looking casual.

Next comes the white button-down, sleeves rolled once to my forearms, so the ink peeks out.

This is as relaxed as I ever get. I slip into my loafers, run a hand through my hair to push it back from my face, and round the bed.

I lower myself to the balls of my feet right in front of him, elbows resting on my knees. Kit’s eyes flutter open, just a little, those green eyes that always hit me like a fucking gut punch. Soft, tired, and still carrying that edge of fear he can never quite hide from me.

“Work calls,” I say quietly, the words rough but gentler than I ever use with anyone else.

He doesn’t speak. Just offers the tiniest, sleepy smile and a small nod.

I swallow the tightness in my throat. “Get some sleep.”

Another nod, nothing more.

I stand slowly, chest tightening painfully as I look down at him.

Even now I can see the fear in the way he holds himself, the way his lashes lower too quickly.

I wish he would just say something, anything.

A soft “okay,” or “I’m not going anywhere,” or even “don’t be too long.

” Just a few words to show he’s not terrified of me anymore.

I hate that I put that fear there, before I even knew he existed.

I turn away before the feeling can dig any deeper, cross to the door, and pull it shut behind me with a quiet click. I hope like hell he’ll still be right there when I’m finished dealing with whatever the fuck this is.