Played (Manhattan Ruthless #4)

by Sadie Kincaid

Well, fuck me. Pissing my parents off to the tune of twenty-five million dollars is the cherry on top of an already great day.

Aware of my own visible tattoos, I arch an eyebrow at him.

“You have no idea of the fucking tornado you are, do you, Mason James? You blow into people’s lives and turn them upside down before moving on like nothing happened.”

“Hi, Mason.” He has the gall to say my name, to speak to me like nothing ever happened. As though eighteen years ago he didn’t rip out my heart and stomp all over it. And suddenly I’m that kid again, feeling worthless and used and …

“But that other part of you remembers all the ways I made you come.” Holy fucking shit. My knees almost buckle. Arrogant fucking douchefuck.

Now, I am Mason fucking James, and nothing and nobody will ever make me feel weak or less than what I am ever again.

King is pulled from the car by a very large balding man who appears to be foaming at the mouth. “I knew you were up to something. You dirty little bastard. You sick little piece of shit.”

NOOOO 😭😭

“This was a joke to see exactly how far you’d go, so that I can tell everyone about what a pathetic, needy, sick little shit you really are. I hate you. You’re a fucking freak! You think any of this is real? I’m not gay. Never have been. Never will be.”

I FEEL FUCKING SICK

“Did you see him? All muscles and tattoos and a square jaw. He seemed exactly your type is all I meant.”

“Never pretend to be less than who you are to please anyone, my boy, especially not your parents. And never let them stop you from finding love.”

“The only thing that makes me feel sick, Mason, is imagining anyone’s hands on you.” I slide my free hand over his cock and suppress a growl at finding it semi-hard already. “Anyone’s but mine.”

He pulls back a little, and I’m left staring into his deep-green eyes. “I need you, Mase. Please?”

I glare at him. Condescending jackass. “I top now.”

He smirks, tightening his grip on my neck. “Not with me, baby.”

“Fuck me, King.”

“Oh, baby. I love it when you beg for me.”

“You taste like cheap brandy,” he murmurs.

I kiss him again. “You taste like mine.”

“Fuck, King,” he groans, and I love the way he says my name. ...

When I’m close to the edge, I capture his lips with mine once more, kissing him so deeply that I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen.

“You drive me crazy, mi rey,” he whispers. That’s what he used to call me, a lifetime ago. My king.

I lied to Mason eighteen years ago when I told him that I never loved him. I loved him more than anyone or anything in this whole goddamn world. The truth is I still do.

King has adapted his uniform accordingly, and it now consists of slacks and a fitted white shirt with long sleeves, which he obviously rolls up. Why hide those beautiful tattoos if he doesn’t have to? He looks more comfortable than he did in a suit. He looks fucking hot.

“How about you stop talking about how good you are, get on your knees, and put that smart mouth to much better use.”

The sight unravels me—King Blackthorn on his knees with my cock stuffed in his mouth, making soft humming noises while he sucks me off.

He only loses his temper when he’s scared. And I scared him. Cassidy Jones’s name scared him. And I am going to find out why.

“Tell me what you want, King. Consent is very fucking important to me, and I need to establish yours.”

I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at his smug face when I say it. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You look good with my cock in your throat, Mase. Fucking perfect.”

How does he have a mouth so sinful, yet so fucking heavenly? Mason James is my addiction.

I’ve never been that into sucking cock—I’m too fucking selfish—but with Mason … I would sell a kidney to have him in my mouth right now.

My eyes roll back in my head. “I want more.” I grunt out the words, and he smiles against my skin. “You sure?” “Yeah.” “Greedy boy.” He chuckles but sinks deeper.

“Good fucking boy,” he growls.

He’s hurting. I fucking hurt him. We shared something incredible, and now I’m running away like a coward, and he knows it as well as I do. But it’s better this way. He and I can never work. We’re from two different worlds. And surely a little pain now is worth it to save us both a fuckload of it later.

i wanna shake King so fucking bad, stop being such a scared fucking coward!!! ughhhhh 😭😭

I should go back. But then what? Can I admit to him that I’m scared out of my mind of what we shared tonight? Admit that I’m falling for him so hard that I’m terrified I’m going to lose myself—that I fell in love with him when I was sixteen and haven’t stopped loving him a single second since?

“I’ll let you in on a secret. The best relationships are the ones we have to fight for. The people who challenge us most are the ones who make us the best version of ourselves. Loving someone is easy, but staying with them through the ups and downs of life—that’s the tough part. But it’s also the part that knits your souls together.”

“I want you, Mase. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to spend every second of every day with you, and it scares the shit out of me.”

How good it’s going to feel in the morning to wake up beside him in my bed. “Then we can tell your family.”

His smile makes my knees tremble. “Then I’m yours, Hotshot.”

I press a final long, messy kiss on his perfect lips before going to cook me and my boyfriend some dinner.

“Mase, please listen to me,” he pleads. “I loved you then, and I never fucking stopped.”

“Yeah, I am,” he finally says, his breath warm on my face. “You are the only person I have ever loved, Mason James. And I don’t see anything ever changing that.”

“You’ve always belonged to me, and you always fucking will.”

“You’re the only guy I’ve ever fucked bare, Mase. What will it take for you to trust me enough to do that again?”

“I’m gonna fuck you again, King,” I moan.

He laughs, and his breath ruffles my hair. “I know, baby. I can’t fucking wait. But right now I’m fucking you, so bite down on that pillow real hard for me and my neighbors won’t hear you screaming my name when you come.”

Possessive asshole. Can’t deny that I love it though—not only that he bothered to learn so much about my workday but the way he says mine.

I’m going on a date with Mason James, and I’m equal parts terrified and excited. I focus on the latter.

“But I lost you once, Mase,” he says quietly. “And I’d rather become a fucking monk and live the rest of my life in solitude than lose you again. I loved you then, I loved you all the days in between, and I still love you now. So fucking much. You deserve so much more than I have to offer, but if you’ll let me, I promise to give you the best version of myself I can be.”

“I love you too, King. And you are everything I need.”