Page 3 of King: Darker Than Romance

As soon as he went to remove his hand, I opened my mouth to scream. I regretted it immediately. He wrapped his hand around my throat, restricting my ability to swallow, to breath. No sound escaped. I panicked and started to struggle in earnest but couldn’t do much with one of my hands tucked under me and the other in his vice grip.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, still fucking stubborn.”

His grip around my neck got tighter, and I knew it wouldn’t loosen until he got what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to croak out.

He took his time letting go. When his hand fell away, I sucked in a deep breath.

“You’re not sorry now, but you will be,you treacherous fucking bitch!” He spat his words so venomously, I felt them physically.

“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to me, and you’re going to take your punishment like a good girl, aren’t you?” I heard the restrained anger in his voice and knew he would spend however long we had together trying to break me. I wished I were back with Ellis. We fought, and I gave as good as I got. But with King, it was different. He was too strong, too vindictive.

If I hit King, he didn’t punch me back. He was calculated. He would take things from me that I cared about. The one time I’d hurt him emotionally, he’d taken the little bit I had of my mother from me.

Four years later and she still could barely stand to look at me because of his lies. He’d made her think I was the reason her husband had left her and not because she had married another piece of shit. I still don’t know the exact lie King told to make his father’s actions my fault. But whatever he’d told her had gotten me slapped and kicked out of her house. I’m sure that had been his plan all along.

King wanted me to only depend on him, to only have him. And somewhere deep inside I wanted the same. Neither one of us realized how fucked up that was.

We were toxic to each other and everyone around us. We caused each other pain as well as caused pain to the people who got in between us. All for nothing. In the end we had imploded. He’d gone to jail, and I had ended up living in a gilded cage with the man he hated.

“I bet you thought you would live happily ever after with that prick you ran away with; never thought you’d see me again?” His voice kept rising. “Thought I’d rot in prison because of you.” The steel in his tone caused me to shiver, but I still tried to defend myself.

“I wouldn--” I wanted to tell him that I never would have run away with Ellis if he hadn’t forced my hand. Where else was I supposed to go with no money, after he’d turned my momma against me?

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “I went to prison because of you, and you went and fucked the one person I told you to stay away from.”

“Ugh, fuck you!” came out before I could swallow the words that I knew would further piss him off. “I’m not the reason you were in prison. You’re a fucking psycho who tried to beat a man to death.” Did I feel guilty about him being in prison? Yes. I knew King was jealous and possessive. I should have never tried to play that game with him. Did I feel responsible? No. It had been his actions and his alone that had put him behind bars.

“Because of you,” he hissed in my face.

“Because you could never take what you put out,” I rebutted. He’d told me to leave him alone. I did, then he’d fucked a thousand girls after me, flaunting each one in front of me. When I became interested in one man besides him, he’d lost his mind. But King was the type to stab you in the heart, then pretend he was bleeding.

He hissed. “Because you’re a deceitful whore.”

I snapped. “Go to hell. Get off me!” No matter what I said, King was going to believe what he wanted, so I wasn’t about to argue with him. I’d only have to put up with him for a couple of days, I guessed. Either the police would be coming for me for what I’d done to Ellis, or Ellis would be coming because of what I’d done to him. Either way, I would not have to deal with King and Momma for long.

“Not just yet. I came into your room for a reason.” His fingers were still tight around my throat when his other hand disappeared under the sheet. He ran his cold fingertips over my breast. He followed it with his warm tongue then his sharp teeth, slightly biting into the nipple.

“Oh God-” my throaty whisper forcefully slipped from between my pursed lips.

He let my arm that he’d been holding go to massage my hip. Callused fingers dugs into the plush flesh, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin. I immediately and unsuccessfully tried to push him away. He trapped my arm again “Don’t make me do this, King.” He chuckled darkly.

“I remember saying the same words to you the night you fucking cursed me. Touch me, King.” He mocked my words. “You remember saying that?”

I fisted my hand at my side. I wasn’t going to let him make a fool out of me. He’d wanted me back then just as much as I’d wanted him.

“No. Touch yourself.” I know it sounded childish, but it was all I had at the moment.

He punished my disobedience by burying his head in the crook of my neck and pressing his teeth into my pulse. He bit down, applying just enough pressure to hurt, but not break skin. He sucked it roughly before lifting his mouth.

“Touch me!” he growled so deeply I could feel his voice vibrating.

Heat filled my lower belly.

“No.” A whine tinged my voice. I hated it. I hated feeling like the eighteen-year-old girl King use to control.

All in one swift motion he maneuvered himself, so that he was sitting up, he straddled my thighs. Using his weight, he continued to restrain me. Forcefully, he grabbed the hand that had been trapped under me. My balled-up fist, he brought up to his right pec. He squeezed my wrist until his grip was so painful, I thought it would break. I had no choice but to open my hand. When I did, he dragged it down the hard plains of his torso over his abdomen, then guided it into his boxers. He stopped when my hand met hard, unyielding flesh. His cock was hot, even though his fingertips were cold.

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