Page 10 of The Kingpin’s Omega Lover (River City Omegas #2)

FIVE

“I’m allowed to take, too!”

The guttural, almost feral way Malori screamed those five simple words ripped at King’s soul.

He felt the fury in his gut, his heart, and in deeper emotions that had never been stirred up before, not by anyone, man or woman.

An intense, desperate need to take away Malori’s rage, to soothe every hurt, to keep him safe, all warred with another part of King that had sworn to never be overpowered again.

To never be vulnerable to another man in any way.

Being knocked on his ass had startled King into momentary paralysis, but as soon as those slender hands closed around his neck, King’s instincts kicked in.

He needed to protect himself from any possible harm by dislodging the threat above him, but his heart stopped him.

A racing heart that already knew Malori wasn’t angry with King; he was angry at the situation.

His heart knew Malori could draw blood or raise a bruise, but he wouldn’t mean it.

King wasn’t his enemy. King was just there.

This was also the first time Malori had made this sort of full-body physical contact with King in a non-emergent situation.

King carrying Malori out of the farmhouse didn’t count, and neither did carrying him into their safe house for the night.

They’d shaken hands twice since, and that had been it.

Until today.

Touching Malori during today’s lesson had been a gift.

Knowing Malori trusted King enough to be alone in a room with him, a shut door, no windows, and no clear exit strategy, was everything.

Knowing Malori trusted King enough to allow them to touch each other for the lesson was more than everything.

For as violent as Malori’s outburst had been, the fact that he was sitting on King, his butt flush to King’s stomach, hands wrapped around King’s throat…

it shouldn’t have been endearing, but it was.

The way Malori was still fighting—no, he was demanding —was also sexy as all fuck.

Curious what Malori would do with his newfound power, King remained limp beneath him, instead of breaking the chokehold with moves he could perform in his sleep.

He studied the way Malori seethed, the tiny flickers of fear in his eyes, hiding behind the raging anger.

King pressed his palms flat to the mat so he didn’t do something dumb, like grab Malori’s hips—not to push him off but to pull him closer—and waited.

Malori stared down at him, an impressive array of emotions playing across his face as he understood King wasn’t retaliating.

That Malori wasn’t going to be punished for his actions, not physically or verbally.

That he was being given the chance to act and react in a safe place. With a very safe person.

The pressure around King’s neck eased at the same rate as Malori’s stiff shoulders loosened. Malori’s hands slid down until his palms rested on King’s shoulders, and he sat more heavily on King’s stomach.

For no reason King could explain to himself, the way Malori was conceding the fight pissed him off. “You said you wanted to take,” King said. “So, take something. Take my life, if you want it.”

Malori growled, fingertips sliding back up to touch King’s exposed neck. “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you. Take. Something. Malori. I’m giving you a free pass, right here and now, to take whatever you want. Want to punch me in the mouth? Free pass. Want to knee me in the balls? I’ve taken worse blows. I need you to know I am a safe place for your anger.”

“You wouldn’t lie there and let me kill you.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d probably let you get damned close, though, if it brings you any measure of peace right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I understand how much you need to feel that power in your hands. The feeling that you hold someone else’s life in your palm, the way other people have held yours in their palms for years.

I want you to have a little bit of that power, but I cannot stand the idea of you becoming an actual killer.

“What I did today? It was not a heat-of-the-moment scenario, it was not self-defense. My deliberate actions led to a man’s death.

Do I believe in my heart that he deserved to die for what he did to you, and to who knows how many other victims?

Absolutely, yes, because people like that do not rape once and stop, and he needed to be stopped. ”

“And you stopped him. I didn’t do it. You did.” Malori’s cheeks darkened, and his hands slid back up to circle King’s neck. “You got to kill him. You got to punish my attacker, and I should have been able to do that. Not you.”

“Maybe.” King raised his hands and pressed them down over Malori’s, adding pressure to his own neck and windpipe. Malori’s nostrils flared but he didn’t struggle. Didn’t push off King’s touch or direction, and King wasn’t even sure what he was doing. Participating in his own asphyxiation? Maybe.

Encouraging Malori to control his existence and determine his place in this world? Fuck yes. “Take. Something.”

Malori’s upper body jerked forward, and King braced for a head-butt, or worse, some sort of bite to his face.

He was not prepared for Malori’s lips to press against his own, or for the electric shock to King’s system that came with the kiss.

He didn’t move, could barely think as Malori became aggressive, lips and teeth mashing against King’s mouth, forcing him open.

Allowing Malori in. Savoring the taste of him, the thick slide of his tongue, the way Malori seemed to be devouring him whole.

Heat pooled in his groin, and it finally woke King up to the fact that a handsome, sexy man was kissing him, while also gently choking him, and he’d never been more turned on in his life.

He released Malori’s hands and wrapped his arms around Malori’s waist, keeping him close, chest to chest, while their mouths battled.

He kissed Malori back, nipping at his lips and stroking Malori’s tongue with his own, finally silencing his brain and allowing instinct to rule.

He rolled them so King was on top—and Malori shocked the hell out of him by rolling them again so Malori was back in control, hands still wrapped around King’s throat.

Pressing without choking. They stared at each other, panting, Malori’s anger a sweet portrait above him, showing no sign of fear or regret.

King found his voice and whispered, “Take more.”

Malori leaned down until their noses nearly touched.

His hot breath gusted across King’s damp mouth.

Beads of perspiration trickled down Malori’s temples and nose.

He looked absolutely feral; King had never seen him more alive.

And when Malori slid his lower body down to press a thick erection against King’s own throbbing dick, reality exploded.

“You won’t give what I want to take,” Malori whispered back.

King seized Malori’s hips and held him down, mashing their cocks together, and they both moaned. “Try me.”

Malori studied his face with an intensity that made King feel naked and exposed, unused to being so fucking seen by another person.

Everything in him wanted to look away, to toss Malori off, to get them both naked as quickly as possible so they could orgasm, damn it.

But he was be-spelled, bewitched, completely beholden to Malori’s desires.

He’d open up, bend over, offer his whole body, if that’s what his sweet, furious Malori wanted.

But the fury was ebbing, the storm passing.

Malori released his throat and collapsed on top of King, head resting on King’s right shoulder, his forehead pressing into King’s neck.

He didn’t shake or sob; he simply breathed, and King wasn’t sure what to do other than relax his own tight hold into a gentle hug, arms going limp across Malori’s back.

“I’m sorry.” King didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he couldn’t think of a single other thing to say.

“Please don’t.” Malori shifted his lower body so his groin was off King’s, and King immediately missed the contact. “Today was a gift, so don’t apologize for it.”

“I wish I could have given you more. You deserve the world, Mal.”

“Maybe.” He raised his head and looked down at King, no recriminations in his eyes, only a hint of grief. “But what we deserve and what we get are never the same. Thank you for trying. Thank you for, um, indulging me. Sorry about your throat.”

“My throat will be fine. I’m still worried about you.” He reached up to flick a stray lock of golden hair off Malori’s forehead. “Everything that happened in this room will stay in this room. I promise. I don’t kiss and tell.”

Malori’s eyes widened briefly before his entire face calmed into a half-smile. “Thank you. Thank you for being kind and not breaking my arm for kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“In case my dick wasn’t obvious enough, I am not objecting to the kiss. Any of the kissing. Or the touching and rubbing. I really liked that.”

“I’m surprised. I guess I never imagined you’d be into men. That’s pretty closed-minded of me, huh?”

“It’s all right. I’m bi, but I tend to keep my affairs private for business reasons.

” He’d also been burned horribly once, ten years ago, and it had soured him on dating.

“I don’t want to put the people I love in danger, but sometimes…

sometimes the world is a horrible, dangerous place, and we can’t always protect them. Kensley is a perfect example.”

“But you did protect him in the end. You found us. You saved my life, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

King’s chest tightened. Had all this kissing and rolling around just been gratitude?

It was possible, since Malori had only ever mentioned a previous relationship with a woman named Hannah.

Malori was probably straight and had abhorred everything about his forced encounters with men, and King was doing the same damned thing.