Played: Manhattan Ruthless - 58

“Hey, baby.” King’s deep, sexy voice fills my head, his soft lips grazing my ear.

I groan into my pillow, enjoying the vividness of this particular dream. It’s so real I feel the bed dip beside me. King’s smooth, skillful hand coasts down my back, his teeth nipping at the skin of my throat.

But King’s in Chicago for the rest of the week, tying up all the loose ends on his business there and finalizing the sale of his apartment.

“Wake up, Mase. I have two hours before I have to get back on a plane.”

My eyes fly open. “King?”

His laugh ruffles my hair. “Does anyone else have a key to your place and wake you up like this? Because if they do …” His mouth is too busy playing over my skin for him to finish the question.

I roll onto my back, unable to keep the goofy smile from my face when I see the outline of his silhouette holding himself over me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He drags his teeth along my jawline, and my cock hardens instantly. “I missed you. I spent eighteen years of my life without you, and now it seems I can’t even go a few days without touching you.” The words vibrate against my skin, sending warm currents of pleasure skittering through my body. He hurriedly tugs the duvet off and glides his palm over my chest and down my abs until he reaches the waistband of my boxers. His nimble fingers slip under the fabric, and my entire body comes alive at his touch. “Fuck, I can barely go a whole day without you. What have you done to me?”

He bites my neck, and I tip my head back, unable to answer. Not that I know the answer, but whatever it is, he has the exact same effect on me. He fumbles for the lube in the nightstand drawer, and no less than two minutes after he disturbed my sleep, he’s sinking inside me and my eyes are rolling back in my head.

“Fuck, King.” I grit out the words.

“I know, baby boy. I was born to fuck you, you know that?”

And fuck me he does, so thoroughly that my entire body is shaking from the strength of my climax. He rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Mase. I don’t think I want to be your boyfriend anymore,” he says, his voice strained.

My heart bottoms out of my chest, and I react on instinct. “What the fuck? Your dick’s still inside me, and you’re saying …” I take a breath and tell myself to calm the fuck down. He didn’t fly home from Chicago to break up with me, especially not right after he told me he can barely stand to be apart. “Just what are you telling me?”

He pulls back a little, staring down at me, his sinfully full lips twitching. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re pissed. Makes me want to push your buttons all the time.”

I thread my fingers through his hair, which he wears a little longer now, and tug. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him wince. “Stop being an asshole and tell me what you mean.”

“I didn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, baby boy.” He rocks his hips and pushes deeper inside me once more. “Haven’t I spent the last half hour telling you, and showing you, how much I can’t keep my fucking hands off you?”

God, I love being so full of him. My eyes want to roll back in my head, but I fight that instinct and stare at him. “So what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since the night of the charity gala.” He gently slides himself out of me and rolls onto his side, his hand resting on my stomach—and in my cum, which he doesn’t seem to care about.

I grab a tissue from the nightstand anyway and clean myself up before handing him some to do the same, but my deviant boyfriend licks his palm clean instead. I shake my head, pretending to disapprove, when in truth I fucking love watching him do that. And he knows it. I love every single thing he does. Love him.

He smirks. “You taste so fucking good. Why would I waste a drop?”

I direct him back to our more important conversation. “Been thinking about what since the charity dinner?”

He props himself up on his elbow, his green eyes twinkling. “I should probably do this in some big grand gesture kind of way, but you know that’s not my style.”

A grand gesture? What the hell is he talking about? My stomach ties itself into knots.

He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “You said that night if I wanted your name, then all I had to do was ask.”

Holy shit. My heart jumps to my throat. “Are you asking?” And exactly what is he asking?

“This might be the most unromantic proposal ever, but will you be my husband? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Fuck. Me. That was honestly the last thing I expected him to say. “Are you serious right now?”

“I should have done it better, huh? I know you deserve a romantic proposal, but I was on the plane, and I thought why wait? I love you and want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you, and I thought—” He stops talking and chews on his lip.

I grab his face and kiss him. “You’re so adorable when you’re nervous, mi rey.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks quietly.

“That’s a yes. Although if you take my name, you’ll be King James.”

He raises his eyebrows. “King James-Blackthorn actually, and I won’t lie, the prospect of being addressed like royalty has been the driving factor in my decision to commit the rest of my life to you.”

I kiss him again. “Mason James-Blackthorn. I like that. Does this mean you’re officially moving in? Or are you going to continue living here while you keep some clothes at your place under the pretense that you don’t live here?”

He gives me a playful nudge in my ribs. “Yes, I’ll move in while we look for our own place.”

“Oh, we’re buying a new place now too?”

“You think I’m going to have my husband live in this former fuck den?”

I laugh out loud. I can’t help it, and I can’t recall a time I have ever felt happier. “Okay. We can look for a new place.”

I don’t care where we live, just that we’ll be living together. All the time. I should probably play this cool, but I can’t stop grinning. “Wow. Getting married and moving in together—this has been quite the trip back for you, Hotshot.”

He hums appreciatively. “Moving in with you definitely has its benefits.” His eyes roam my body and stop to linger on one particular benefit that’s already twitching under his gaze before trailing back up to my face.

I roll on top of him and pin his wrists on either side of his head, pressing him into the mattress. Then I dust my lips over his, teasing him with a kiss and grinding myself against his cock.

I kiss him hard, then pull back and ask, “What time is your flight?”

“Four a.m.,” he pants, breathless.

“So, we have thirty minutes. I’m gonna need to spend most of that time with a part of me inside you, Hotshot. Now, you can suck my cock or I can fuck you. Which is it to be?”

“Fuck me, Mase,” he groans.

“With pleasure , mi rey.”

My King. My lover and best friend. My soon-to-be husband.

The place I feel safest and the only place that’s home.

Still want more? You can get another delicious slice of Mason and King in the extended epilogue Here

Not done with the James brothers and want to find out more about the deliciously deep and mysterious youngest of the family? Then you can order Maddox’s story, Made, right now:

Made

And you can find their older brother’s stories here

Broken

Promise Me Forever

Rebound