Page 16 of The Kingpin’s Omega Lover (River City Omegas #2)

Ever since yesterday morning’s exercise and confession session, fucking King had been a matter of when, not if.

But he hadn’t expected it to happen hours after King had been nearly assassinated.

And that was how Malori saw the whole off-ramp incident: an assassination attempt by King’s enemies.

Who were also Malori’s enemies. He hadn’t intended to use it to his advantage, but Malori also wasn’t sure if he saw any of tonight’s events as an advantage.

King had been vulnerable yesterday morning, and he’d been vulnerable again tonight.

He’d needed something Malori had been more than willing to give him—and selfishly, it was something Malori had craved taking for a long time.

Not from an unwilling partner. Never that.

Malori had experienced being taken from too many times to ever harm another person like that.

No, he’d accepted a gift, and he’d treasure it always.

Malori’s foot cramped. As he stretched to relieve the sharp pain, his soft dick slipped free of King’s body, and he immediately missed that connection. He kissed King’s neck and cheek. “We should probably clean up.”

King sighed. “I’m afraid if we move, this amazing dream will end, and I’ll wake up alone in my bed.”

“How do you feel about waking up with me sleeping beside you, instead?”

“Fuck, I’d love that.” King lightly kneaded the sides of Malori’s hips without drifting close to his hole or his junk. “Using your own butt slick to lube me up was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah? I liked it, too. Seemed like a better option than spit.”

“For sure. Although your come in my ass is nice lube, too.”

Malori laughed. “As much as I’d like to take advantage of all the come up your ass, my knight, I’m exhausted. Can we clean up?”

“Definitely. As a matter of fact.”

King moved so swiftly that Malori suddenly found himself suspended over King’s shoulder, and they were marching down the corridor toward King’s bedroom.

Malori had no reason to distrust King’s intentions, but he was still hyper-aware of their movements.

Of King depositing him in a spacious, sparkling bathroom.

Turning on the water in a glass-walled shower with rainfall shower heads.

King removed his shirt and stepped inside the shower, away from the spray.

Turned and stared at Malori’s mostly-clothed body while the water heated.

Dark eyes full of decades-worth of thoughts and feelings.

Malori was at a crossroads and couldn’t very well shower while dressed.

King was a safe place. Probably the safest in the world for Malori.

He held tight to that trust and took off his shirt first, exposing his pale, scarred torso.

King’s hungry gaze gave Malori the courage to shove his sweatpants all the way down.

Finally shedding his clothes and his trepidation, he stepped under the pouring water with King, no barriers between them.

Malori’s stomach quivered with nerves over being naked with a man so much bigger and stronger than him.

But all King did was lather Malori’s hair with shampoo.

Massage his body with a lightly-scented foam.

Wash Malori with gentle, unassuming hands.

Everything relaxed Malori into not protesting when King tucked him into soft sheets, on a fluffy pillow, and he slipped into gentle dreams. His mind wandered the way the mind did during peaceful slumber, and when Malori woke, he was warm and comfortable, and no one was touching him. Not a hand, not a dick, not a thing.

Malori rolled to the left, his body seeming to want something, and he blinked hard at the sight of a throat. It took a bit to connect that throat to King’s neck and head. King was softly snoring right next to Malori. Separated. Asleep. Unmolested.

His heart surged with something he didn’t dare call love, not out loud. It was too big, too soon to voice what his body was telling him. King’s scent curled around his senses, a mix of soap and sweat, and the sheets themselves, and Malori’s dick took notice.

For three years, he’d had no control over the sex happening to his body, over the things done to or commanded of him, especially when he was drugged with that awful erection potion. He’d hated the way that his agency was stolen, and his body betrayed him by preparing for each inevitable rape.

This morning, he embraced the way his hole softened and slicked, as his cock thickened and hardened. Deep down, on the most primal level, Malori’s body trusted King. Knew King. Accepted the man as part of his life, and as someone who’d always protect him. Never take from him.

He can’t be my charus. Can he?

Didn’t King need to fuck Malori for them to know for sure? The omega had to be penetrated? Claimed by the other man’s semen? Malori wasn’t sure he ever wanted another man inside him, not even King, but…maybe?

He didn’t have to think about that today, though.

He was probably projecting because of what Kensley and Bishop shared.

Every omega couldn’t have some fated charus out there waiting for him.

God or fate, or whoever the fuck created the charum wouldn’t allow what had happened to Malori to taint such a precious bond.

King grumbled and stretched, one hand reaching toward him. Malori clasped that hand and brought to his mouth. Kissed the pad of King’s thumb. King blinked several times before focusing on him, and he smiled, half his face still smooshed against the pillow. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Malori replied. “How do you feel?”

“I feel amazing.” He rubbed his thumb over Malori’s lower lip. “I loved what we did, and I’d love a repeat. Maybe not on the living room couch, but here’s nice. Private. Locked door in case things get feisty.”

“Feisty?”

“Well, I seem to recall you enjoying choking me the other morning. That was pretty fucking feisty.”

“I was angry. I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.” King rested his hand over Malori’s heart. On his bare chest. “Thank you for trusting me enough to share my bed. I didn’t expect that after you fucked me with all your clothes on.”

Malori covered the hand resting on his chest. “That was pretty fucking hot, actually. I kind of wish you had internal security footage, so I could see what it looked like.”

He growled softly. “I do have cameras but not on that couch, damn it.”

“Well, maybe we can recreate it sometime.”

“Hell, yes. Can I…fuck, but I really want to get your dick in my mouth.”

Malori’s heart fluttered. “Really?” It had been ages since receiving a blow job hadn’t been part of a paying client’s sadistic game.

“If you’ll allow me?”

“Yes.”

King threw the bedcovers back and crouched above Malori—a dominant position that sent a flood of acid into the back of Malori’s throat.

But King didn’t press down or shove his legs apart, or do anything violent.

He lowered his head and kissed Malori, a slow press of lips and slips of tongue that promised so many good things to come, and it left Malori breathless.

King slipped slowly down to the end of the bed, his fingertips lightly trailing over Malori’s torso and belly, barely skimming the skin.

Enough to almost tickle. His eyes were hooded, probably upset by the faint scars on Malori’s body, permanent proof of the hard life he’d lived until this moment. Both on the streets and at the Farm.

He’d had one client who had purposely sharpened her fingernails before their appointment, and the wounds she’d left behind had gotten her banned.

No, no thoughts of that, not while King was studying his cock like a tactical officer planning an attack.

Malori was so aroused he’d probably soaked through the bottom sheet and into the mattress cover.

He watched, mesmerized, as King clasped his cock by the root and flicked out the tip of his tongue.

Malori gasped at the tickling sensation against his glans, and again when King did it twice, pressing into the slit, then sealing his lips around the head.

Malori bucked his hips, needing more, all over, and unsure how to ask.

Positive only that he didn’t want this to stop.

“Taste so sweet, angel,” King practically purred, then licked up the entire length of him, like his dick was a melting popsicle.

Up and down, all over, wetting him, tasting him, making Malori gasp and beg.

When King took his full length into his mouth, the head into the back of his throat, Malori shouted and clasped at the sheets.

He wanted to thrust, to fuck King’s mouth, but he wouldn’t choke him.

Malori had always hated being choked, his air stolen from him.

When King’s fingers stroked Malori’s balls, Malori met his eyes and nodded.

King’s smile went feral. He lifted Malori’s cock out of the way and sucked on his balls, licking the sac, massaging each nut with his lips and tongue, turning Malori inside-out with joy.

Then King made a new, delighted sound. “Fuck, I can taste your slick,” King said. “So good.”

Instinct seized control of Malori’s higher thought processes, and he blurted out, “Taste more. Lick me there.”

“Fuuuck.”

King shocked the hell out of him by sitting up and, again, looming over him. His lips and cheeks were red and wet, and his eyes held a depth of desire Malori couldn’t comprehend. “How far, Mal? My tongue? My fingers?”

“Tongue. No fingers, no dick.”

“I swear.” King kissed him again, and Malori caught a brief taste of his own essence—not something he’d experienced often, but he loved having it offered to him by King’s tongue.

Then Malori was being bent in half, his own cock practically in his face.

King held him with one hand supporting each thigh, and then Malori was lost. Lost to the brain-melting sensation that was King thrusting his tongue into Malori’s soft, wet hole.

Seeking every drop, every taste of natural juice.

Experiencing an omega’s body this way, for the first time, and for the first time in his own life, Malori was eager to offer it.

Eager to be used for his uniqueness, treasured for this new thing he could give to King, and for the tremendous sensations building inside his body.

From his groin to his eyeballs, he was filling up with something he couldn’t describe.

Didn’t understand. Never wanted to end. That scary, primal thing wanted to break free, to scream at King to fuck him already! To claim the omega he clearly wanted.

Self-preservation kept Malori grounded to the moment, and he writhed at the end of King’s tongue. Writhed and moaned and willed his body to produce more, to gorge his lover with all he could take.

Malori’s orgasm came out of nowhere, and he erupted across his own chest, neck and face.

King did not relent, licking his ass and rolling his balls, and urging Malori through a second orgasm, almost immediately after the first. His legs shook, and his belly quivered, and Malori wanted to collapse into a heap of jelly.

King helped him unfold and sprawl out, boneless and trembling.

“Can I come on your chest?” King asked.

“Yeah.” Malori would have agreed to almost anything then, and he was more than happy to mix King’s semen with his own.

He tried to watch, but the post-arousal lull was pulling him under again.

It was always worse after taking the erection potion, which typically kept him hard and flowing for two hours, taxing his body’s hydration, and usually leaving him exhausted.

This was a much more pleasant lull, swaddled with love, devotion, and the sense of being perfectly safe, even if he passed out right now. He heard King shout, felt warmth splatter his chest. Felt the comforting pressure of King’s hand smearing it on his skin. Soft kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

Content, happy, and secure in his place here, Malori drifted off to sleep.