KING : Children of Wolves Book 1 - MC Romance Series | Dark Romance

Chapter Seven - Kingston

Update? The text from my father reads.

I turn up the volume on my surround sound. The music plays -

How do you call your loverboy?

Oh, loverboy.

And if he doesn't answer? -

I type a response I know will piss him off. Watching Dirty Dancing.

Text bubbles appear and then disappear. He won't indulge me with a response. Don't worry, Dad, I'm a dick to everyone. Not just you.

Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey practice their dance moves on screen and I sip my whiskey. Serafina's got eyes like whiskey. They're as round as this rocks glass I'm drinking from. Wide and expressive, full of hatred and fire. She's got a bratty mouth too. One I'd like to stick my dick in.

I've locked her in my bedroom for the day. She's got some bottles of water and a bathroom. She'll be fine. Plus, she can't get out and it keeps her out of my hair so I can think. Crew's right. My dad's right. I need to have a plan.

By the time the movie ends, I've finished most of my decanter of liquor. My eyes burn and feel heavy. They're dry after a long day and after drinking.

Reaching for my doorknob, I steady myself before going in. I can handle my liquor. But I need to be on my toes with this girl. She's probably going to be crouched in the corner with a fucking shiv she's whittled today.

I open the door, prepared for war, but it's complete peace. She's standing at the balcony door, her back to me. Long, lithe legs are all I see for a moment. She's got skin like cream. Turning around to greet me, she's wearing my white button down, only barely buttoned. Her dagger tattoo clearly visible.

"I didn't have anything else to wear," she says, almost sadly, turning back around to look out the window.

"Hm," I nod, watching her as I step in. Without turning my back, I reach behind to lock the door.

"I took a shower. I hope that's okay," she says, pressing her hands to the glass. "It's a really pretty night."

I glance out the window. The moon looks silver; it hangs so low in the sky you can nearly see the craters on it. It shines on her face, bathing her in an ethereal light.

She's tall. My shirt hangs heavy on her thin frame, but it stops just below her ass. What is it about this that men love? I've never understood, but seeing her in it now does stir something in my dick. She's washed all of her makeup off. The little pinup doll is gone. Now she's got creamy bare skin, plump lips, and heavy dark curls.

"Were you watching Dirty Dancing?" she asks, a hint of a smirk in her voice. "I love that movie."

She backs away from the window and sits down on a velvet high-back chair near the door. One long leg crosses over another. A diagonal slice of darkness covers her, half exposed and half in the shadows.

When I don't respond, she gives up. Her lips look pouty. Hoping for a conversation, love?

"I'm taking a shower," I say, turning my back to her for the first time. When I walk into the bathroom, I hesitate at the door. I don't trust her enough to close it.

Standing in the full light, I unbutton my shirt. She leans forward, hungrily, as I pull it off. I don't need to see her to know what she's doing. Those whiskey eyes are roving my torso, tracing my tattoos. Beneath my dress shirt lies layers of black ink over muscle.

Turning my back to her once more, I unbuckle my slacks, letting them fall and step out of my boxers. Warm water rains down over me and I try to let my drunken mind think of the next step. The only thing that seems logical is giving her what she so clearly wants- me.

She's still in the chair when I get out of the shower. Toweling off, I put on a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers and walk into the room. She's turned herself, still looking outside.

The room is silent as I walk toward her. Her back stiffens, and she sucks in a breath. She refuses to look at me, though. She doesn't want me to know she wants it. I grip her chin gently, turning her face up to meet mine. She nuzzles her head, moving my hand against her cheek.

Her long fingers pull my hand to her mouth. Kissing over my knuckles, those saucer eyes look up to me. "Are you really a king?" she purrs.

She drops to her knees in front of me and rubs her hands longingly up and down my thighs. When she brushes over my cock, it twitches and she gives an excited smile. Her hands stroke me through the material of my boxers and I drop my head back.

Little kisses fall up and down my shaft and it takes a lot of restraint not to rip my boxers off. I like this game, though. The buildup. The tease. She's worshipping me, and I'm not going to tell her no.

"Fuck me under the moonlight," she whispers, rubbing a thumb over the outline of my thick head.

I pick her up and her legs wrap obediently around my waist, like they know where they belong. She buries her head in the crook of my neck, sucking my flesh. Like the bad girl I know she is, she can't help but bite. Her little panties are soaked with her wetness, and she rubs against me longingly.

I set her down on a chaise outside and start to slide those red panties down. "Not yet," she purrs, twisting out of my grip. When she drops to her knees and gives me a devilish smile, I know she wants to continue what she started inside.

"Sit down," she whispers and then climbs between my knees.

I rest my head back against the seat, looking up at the dark sky. A thousand stars are overhead and she's taking my cock out. She squeezes at the base, flooding me with a rush of blood. Then her fucking teeth sink down.