Beg Little Prince (MM)

KAI'S POV

I stood in the small dressing room at the back of The Gilded Cage, staring at my reflection like I wasn't sure if it was me. The black silk robe clung to my shoulders, short enough that it barely covered the curve of my ass. Underneath, I wore only a thin pair of lace briefs that left nothing to the imagination. My skin still carried the faint scent of the expensive oil they had rubbed into me earlier, something that made me shine under low lights. Sexy. That was the word Rafe kept using, silly him. I did look sexy though.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his tattooed chest. His usual cocky grin sat on his face, but his eyes held a sharp warning tonight.

"Remember," he said, voice low and smooth, "Our newest client does not like to be disappointed. This one is powerful. Really powerful. The kind of man who can make problems disappear with one phone call or create them. So you smile pretty, you obey, and you make him feel like a god. Got it?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. My throat felt tight. Ten years ago I would have laughed in the face of anyone who tried to order me around. Now here I was, selling the last thing I had left. My body, my pride…everything.

Rafe stepped closer and picked up the black silk blindfold from the table and he held it up between us.

"And this stays on the entire time," he added. "Do not take it off. Not even for a second. If you do, there will be consequences, serious ones. The club protects its clients. You break that rule, and you will regret it. Understand?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "I understand."

He tied the blindfold around my head himself, careful but firm. The world went black. The soft fabric pressed against my eyes and it blocked every trace of light. My heartbeat kicked up immediately. Without sight, every sound suddenly felt louder. The faint hum of the club music in the distance felt louder and so did the click of Rafe's boots on the floor. My own shallow breathing.

"Good boy," Rafe said, almost gentle. His hand landed on my lower back and guided me forward. "Now walk. I'll take you to him."

He led me through the halls. My bare feet moved across cool marble, then thick carpet. The air grew heavier with the scent of expensive cologne and something darker underneath. Every step made the silk robe brush against my thighs. I felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that made heat crawl up my neck.

We stopped. A door opened with a soft click.

"Here he is, sir," Rafe announced, his voice respectful in a way I had never heard before. "As requested. Blindfolded and ready. Enjoy your night Sir."

The door closed behind me and silence swallowed the room.

I stood there, blind and trembling, while my ear listened for any movement in the room. There came nothing at first. Then after some seconds, I heard the faint sound of movement. I heard the leather creaking, I heard someone shifting in a chair and I heard the slow inhale of breath.

A voice finally cut through the dark. It sounded low and rough around the edges in a way that sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

"On your knees."

The command landed like a whip. My legs moved before my brain could argue. I dropped to the thick carpet, the robe slipping open at my chest. The lace briefs felt suddenly too tight. My cock twitched against the fabric. I was already half hard from nothing but the tone of that voice.

It felt familiar. Too familiar. Like something from a nightmare I could not quite remember. Yet the low timbre wrapped around me and pulled heat straight to my groin. I hated it. I wanted more of it.

"Strip."

My hands shook as I pushed the robe off my shoulders. It pooled around my knees. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the briefs and slid them down, kicking them away. I was completely naked now. The cool air kissed my skin and made my nipples tighten.

"Good," the voice murmured. It sounded closer this time. He had moved. "You still know how to follow orders, little prince."

My breath caught. That nickname. No one here was supposed to know it, and to think, it sounded familiar. And fuck, it turned me on even more. My cock filled completely. My cock was heavy and aching between my thighs.

Strong gloved hands touched me. One hand gripped my throat, not tight enough to choke but firm enough to remind me who held the power. The other traced down my chest, his thumb brushed over a nipple until I gasped.

"You are shaking," he said. The voice was right beside my ear now. "Scared? Or just eager?"

I did not answer. I could not. My mind spun, trying to place that voice while my body betrayed me completely. Heat pooled low in my belly. My cock throbbed, leaking already.

The gloved hand left my throat and pushed me backward until my back hit the edge of what felt like a large bed. He followed, his knees bracketed my hips. The weight of him pressed me down. Expensive fabric brushed my bare skin. He was still dressed. I was completely naked and blind. The imbalance made my pulse race.

He kissed me without warning. His mouth claimed mine like he had every right. I tasted something metallic, faint, like blood. His tongue pushed inside and I moaned into it before I could stop myself. He tasted like sin and control and something I desperately wanted to hate.

His hands explored without mercy. One pinched my nipple until pain flared bright behind the blindfold. The other wrapped around my cock and stroked once slowly. I bucked up into the touch, desperate for more.

"Please," I whispered against his mouth. The word slipped out broken.

He chuckled, dark and satisfied. "Begging already? We have not even started."

He flipped me onto my stomach with shocking ease. My face pressed into cool sheets that smelled of him. His gloved hands spread my thighs wide. A slick finger circled my entrance. He teased me, then pressed in just enough to make me whine.

"You are tight," he growled. "Have you been saving this for someone special?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. Another finger joined the first, stretching me open with ruthless patience. Every brush against that spot inside made sparks shoot up my spine. I rocked back onto his hand, chasing the feeling even as shame burned my cheeks.

When he finally pulled his fingers away, I almost cried out at the loss. The sound of a zipper filled the room. Then the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed against me.

He did not go slow.

One powerful thrust and he buried himself to the hilt. I screamed into the sheets, the stretch felt hot and perfect at the same time. He was big. So fucking big. The fullness stole my breath.

He set a brutal rhythm immediately. Hard, deep strokes that slammed into me and forced broken moans from my throat. Every thrust dragged against that sensitive spot and sent pleasure crashing through me. My cock rubbed against the sheets, leaking steadily.

His gloved hand fisted in my hair and yanked my head back. His mouth found my ear again.

"Take it," he ordered, voice rough with lust. "Take every inch like the desperate little whore you are now."

The words should have humiliated me. Instead they made me clench around him tighter. I pushed back to meet his thrusts, chasing the heat building inside me. The familiar edge in his voice wrapped around my mind and dragged me under. I knew that voice. I was sure of it. But the pleasure was too sharp and too overwhelming to chase the memory.

He fucked me like he hated me and wanted to own me at the same time. One hand held my hip in a bruising grip. The other reached around to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts. He gave me fast and relentless strokes.

I came first. My whole body seized as pleasure ripped through me, spilling over his fist and onto the sheets. I cried out, shaking and clenching around him.

He followed seconds later. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat as he buried himself deep and filled me. Heat flooded inside me, marking me in the most primal way.

For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing.

Then his weight shifted. He pulled out slowly, leaving me empty and dripping. I stayed face down, boneless and trembling, the blindfold was still firmly in place. He turned me around.

His gloved fingers brushed my cheek almost gently. I felt him lean close. The blindfold loosened. He pulled it away.

Light flooded back in, soft and golden from the suite lamps. I blinked as my eyes adjusted the light, my heart was still hammering. Why did he remove the blindfold?

And then I saw him, my heart sank. He was seated there on the edge of the bed, with a heaving chest, and slightly parted lips. His dark hair was perfectly styled. That lethal smile slowly curving his mouth. A thumb, smeared with a small streak of blood, reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek.

Silas Vane.

The boy I had destroyed ten years ago stared back at me with cold, terrifying hunger in his eyes.