Page 37 of Unmasking Mayhem
If Raze and Hawk find out King drugged me so he could fuck me, hell, even Cade and Carter, they'll fucking kill him, and all hell would break loose behind the doors of Club Mayhem. King chuckles darkly, leaning back slightly as if he’s studying me like a puzzle he intends to solve.
"Look at you, all flustered. You enjoy this, don't you?" His fingers slowly, teasingly glide over my sensitive skin, testing me.
I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but my body tells a different story. His gaze sharpens, and I know he can see the conflict front and center.
"You’re afraid—good. A little fear is healthy in a place like this," he says, his fingers picking up pace again, coaxing softmoans from deep within me. “But losing control—that’s where the fun begins.”
He leans over, his breath hot against my face. The intoxicating scent of his cologne mixes with the smoke in the air, dizzying me even further. I can feel the weight of his stare and hear the faint pulse of the music from the club below, and it seems to intertwine with the rhythm of my racing heart.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind a whirlpool of contradictions. I don't want this; I know I don’t, but with every brush of his fingers against me, the frantic pounding of my heart begs for more. The tension between us crackles like static electricity, threatening to explode.
“Say my name,” he commands, his face dangerously close to mine, his eyes flashing with a mixture of mischief and something extremely darker.
“King,” I manage to whisper, and the way his lips curl into a smirk sends a tremor down my spine.
“Good girl. Now say it like you fucking mean it.” His fingers apply just the right amount of pressure, and I feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, burning hot and insatiable.
“King!” I gasp, the word spilling from my lips more pleading than I had intended.
“See? It’s not so hard to give in,” he replies, revealing a set of sharp teeth in a wicked grin.
My breath catches in my throat as dread slithers back in. King holds my gaze, and I can see the wicked glimmer in his eyes. The mixture of excitement and fear paralyzes me.
"Stay still," he whispers, his grip tightening on my waist, demanding my submission.
I freeze, breath hitching in my throat, the world outside the door fading into a distant murmur. I can hardly breathe, and my body betrays me further as King subtly increases the pressure against my clit, coaxing a sound from my lips that I can'tsuppress. His smirk widens, eyes glinting with dark amusement as I feel my cheeks flush even deeper with shame. King doesn’t move a muscle, his gaze still locked on me, as if daring me to react.
My heart races faster than I thought possible, and I manage to stammer, “I—”
“Shut it,” King snaps, his voice cold and commanding as he pulls me closer to him again, my body firmly pressed against his. “You don’t get to talk unless I say so. Right now, you’re just a pretty little thing sitting pretty on my lap.”
I can feel King’s breath against my neck, his warm fingertips still playing their dangerous game, teasing and testing my physical limits before he roughly pushes them inside me, thrusting brutally hard. I can't breathe, can't think as the tension snaps around us, bold and thick like smoke. I'm trying to regain my sense of control despite the circumstances. King leans closer, trailing his fingers lightly up my arm, and I swear I can feel the burn of his gaze through my skin.
“Now,” he says, almost purring, “are you ready to play?”
I take a breath, the weight of uncertainty settling heavy in my chest, the drugs he gave me making my body feel fuzzy and my limbs heavy and weak. The temptation is still there, flickering tantalizingly close. I wonder just how much I’m willing to sacrifice for the thrill, standing at the edge, caught between dread and allure.
My voice trembles. “I don’t want—”
“Wrong answer, Little Mischief,” he interrupts, leaning back slightly, a storm brewing in his eyes. “You don’t get to hesitate now. You either give in fully or walk away. But if you walk away…”
“What?” I say, a mix of defiance and curiosity bubbling in me.
His grip tightens on me, his voice dropping to a low growl. “If you walk away, you’ll fucking regret it. I swear. I’ll fucking make sure of it.”
Compelled by a force I can't understand, I find myself inching closer again, drawn to the danger he represents. “Is that a threat?”
He grins, the darkness in his eyes swirling like a tempest. “Not a threat, Little Mischief. A fucking promise, and you know I always keep my fucking word.”
As heat pools in my stomach, I realize I have a choice to make. I can either push him away or play into this dangerous night, and with every beat of my heart, the lines blur further, leaving me teetering on the edge. Uncertainty wavers against desire, and I find myself whispering the only thing that feels like it might save me from his brutal wrath.
“I guess I’m staying.”
King’s laughter dances around us, dark and sweet, consuming the room as we spiral deeper into this uncharted territory of pleasure and peril. He smirks, satisfaction radiating from him as his grip on me becomes more possessive.
“I knew you’d come around, Little Mischief. But let's be honest, the choice wasn't yours to make. Even if you said no, you'd still be sitting right here—right where I fucking want you.”
The air between us thickens with anticipation, my heart racing as he leans in closer, his mouth brushing against my ear.
