“We don’t have time to clean that up,” a familiar voice sounds from behind me, piercing through my anger. I turn to find my right-hand man, Kai, looking somewhat amused, standing in the doorway of my penthouse.
“What are you doing here?”
He looks down at his wrist as if he’s checking the time. “Did you forget where we have to be tonight? I came to pick up my date,” he jokes.
“I can’t fucking go tonight. This shit with all the bodies.” My voice trails off, because I don’t even know where to start. “I have to get to the bottom of it.”
“So, I’m guessing you spoke to Anton?” he asks, making his way to me.
“How do you already know?” The question leaves my mouth on autopilot, while my brain and body wage their usual war whenever Kai is in the room.
Where my bulky size and pale features are the most obvious thing about me, Kai is my complete opposite. Lean and angular with his dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in a loose gray t-shirt, ripped skinny-leg jeans, and Doc Martens, you could easily confuse him for a misunderstood emo kid. But it’s the abundance of ink that decorates his skin, and the impenetrable wall around him that give way to the madman that he actually is.
“He called me first,” he explains, bringing my focus back to the matter at hand. “And I told him I was coming here anyway.” He lowers himself onto the couch, stretching his arms across the back. “I thought it’d be easier if you heard it from me.”
Annoyed, I drop down beside him and steeple my hands together, resting my elbows on my knees.
“This has gone on too long,” I say matter-of-factly. “If we’re going tonight, I need this motherfucker to meet me there. I need to put an end to this bullshit. Better yet, I need to put an end to him.”
Kai leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder, and the tension in my body immediately subsides. I blow out a breath, both hating and loving the way his touch has the ability to change my whole mood.
“Tell me what you need me to do.” His voice is soft, and soothing, and so fucking close.
I look over my shoulder and get caught up in our proximity; the way his dark brown eyes bore into mine, the way his tongue darts out to wet his full bottom lip, the way his whole demeanour changes from deadly to dutiful just for me.
God, I want him.
Knowing I shouldn’t, but needing the calm before the storm, I reach for him. Curling my hand around the back of his neck, I bring his face to mine. He comes to me without hesitation; he always does. With only an inch between us, I fight the urge to kiss him.
It’s the one thing I can’t give him, because it’s the one action I won’t ever be able to take back.
“Get on your knees for me,” I command, my voice hoarse and thick.
Without missing a beat, he rises, glass crunching under his feet, and stands in front of me. I sit back and look up at him expectantly. His hungry eyes flick between me and the glass scattered on the floor, his wordless question obvious.
Staying still, I give him my answer.
With his gaze locked on mine, my wish is his command. He drops to the floor, his jaw clenching at the contact with the glass, and my dick roars to life as he disregards his pain to please me. I roughly run the pad of my thumb back and forth across his lips before slipping the digit inside his mouth.
Licking and sucking, his tongue delivers the smallest hint of what’s to come.
“Take me out,” I order before standing up. “Touch me.”
I watch his throat bob as he stares up at me, his tattooed fingers reaching for the top of my jeans. Needing to touch him, I rest my hand on the top of his head while he drags the zipper down the metal teeth and comes face to face with my bare, stiff cock.
He makes a fist around my shaft and leans forward, pressing his face to my groin, inhaling. He works his way up and down, his hand moving faster, the contrast between my skin and his making my balls ache.
Taunting me, he turns his face and licks up my length. Reaching the tip, his tongue circles my crown and teases my pre-come-filled slit.
Grabbing his hair, I rear his head back, craning his neck so he can look up at me.
“Open,” I demand.
With my free hand, I take hold of myself and lead my cock into his waiting mouth. Wet heat immediately envelops me, and a loud groan slips from between my lips.
Wanting release. Wanting that momentary high, my hips viciously buck into his mouth. In and out, I relentlessly push my cock to the back of his throat, spurred on by the sound of his struggle.
Choking and gagging, I enjoy the way he tries to take all of me, giving himself no other option, my pleasure his only priority. His eyes pool with water as his mouth works me over and his hand expertly squeezes my balls.
If there was ever a moment I would want to sear into my memory, it would be this. Kai worshipping me. The way every part of him morphs from want, to hunger, to desperation, to absolute submission.
Just for me.
Tugging at his hair, I reluctantly drag him off me, watching as the strings of saliva and pre-come become our only connection. When his tongue instinctively darts out to lick his lips clean, I guide the head of my cock to trace the shape of his well-used mouth.
I mark him the only way I can, knowing that no matter how good this part always is, he can never be mine, and we can never be more.
Wishing the world to melt away, I push my dick between his lips and thrust into his mouth till all I can do is feel.
Overwhelmed by the complexity of my feelings for Kai, coupled with lust, and the absolute obsession of having him at my beck and call, every part of me trembles as my balls tighten and my body erupts in release.
Fuck.
Flooding Kai’s mouth, I keep my eyes closed and my lips sealed, scared he’ll see the truth in my eyes, or in a haze of pure bliss it will involuntarily slip from my lips. When my heavy, satisfied breathing subsides, Kai slides off my cock, and I risk lowering my eyes to look at him.
He’s staring up at me, and the look of vulnerability on his face makes me hate myself. Pretending not to see, pretending not to feel, I tuck myself back in and step around him. “Meet me in the office when you get cleaned up,” I say dryly.
When I reach the locked door, I turn and take a last look at Kai who’s now on his feet, body bent over, brushing the glass off his knees. Every part of me wants to go back and be the one to do it for him. To take care of him.
Shaking my head, I rid myself of the ridiculous train of thought and punch in the four-digit code then walk in. Second to my bedroom, this place has the best view. Overlooking Central Park, the whole space is a reminder of how far I’ve come and what I’ve done to get from the boy I once was to the man I am right now.
A low whistle announces Kai’s entrance, the hardened man all of New York knows returning; the pliant man on his knees nowhere in sight. I hear the click of the door and turn to watch his eyes roam across the picture-filled walls around us.
“When did you do all this?” he asks.
“Around the time the fifth body showed up.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Leading him to my desk, I ignore the question. It’s not often that we do something without the other one knowing, but considering what I found out, it felt necessary to wait until the moment was right to share it with him.
Sitting down behind my desk, I hand Kai a dossier with more information than we both could’ve bargained for, and he takes the seat opposite me.