The King And Me Novels & Stories

Don't judge. The 'king' had lifted me up and sat me down on the water bed. I wiggled my bum and smiled lightly. The 'king' was kneeling in front of me inspecting my toe. It feels so good- the bed, of course. Duhh... I still wonder, though, why Kane and Kay called him 'king'. I mean, I'm pretty sure he isn't the king of America, 'cause we don't have a king. Smart, Kasey. Really smart. Maybe he's some kind of leader from a nerd group and they call him 'king'. And that explains the castle? Shit, no. You're right. I'm always right. Shut up, ho.

The King walked in with an unreadable expression which startled them, especially Mirabel. “Long live the King,” Mirabel genuflected after she got up suddenly from her grandmother's lap. “You may rise,” the King said, and took his seat beside his wife. “Thank you, my King,” Mirabel appreciated before she got up, and went for her purse. “Take your seat, Mirabel, and tell me what is bothering you,” he ordered when she attempted to leave the room. Presently, she was confused. The King hardly showed concern about her. She grew up to know her grandmother as her only parent, and the Prince as a big uncle. The King had never been part of her life. Nevertheless, she looked askance at her grandmother

It was better to step into a situation and be wrong than to wait and end up slipping up. The car roared as Miguel turned the key in the ignition. It wasn't like the dark king of the underworld would go about killing him for overstepping. The right hand would be too hard to replace in such short notice. That was probably the only thing that he held in his favor currently.

Additionally, she gave the impression that she wanted to be alone and didn't want me to be near her, which is very different from the Catalina I know. While I was taking a deep breath and sipping the last drop of blood from my glass, she cast a quick glance in my direction. Her eyes look dead to me, and it seems like she has no feelings. She gave a hesitant glance before averting her gaze. The butler entered and asked the question. "What's happening with your wife, King?" "Why do you ask?"

ELORA My body tingled with suppressed excitement as I thought about everything the King and I had accomplished. I felt powerful, like I could do anything I wanted now. My position as the king's mistress had never felt so important before. Never in million moons would I have thought that I would help with freeing slaves.

Karen called "since I didn't get what you said just repeat it!" Madison snapped " sorry, I was asking who you think would be opportune to go with the king. it's me right?"Felicity asked as she blushed "definitely me not you, how would you go with your lame decision" Tessa who was with them said " as if yours was any better!" Felicity snapped" mine was good and the king was even smiling when I was saying it" she added still feeling flustered by the thought of being the king's date

She never gave any attention to the people around her – for her eyes were glued only to the man sitting highly in his golden chair. A man wearing a combination of white and black overall dashiki-type shirt stood up and cleared his throat, trying to catch her attention – or more of trying to stop her insolence by looking directly at the king. “State your name and your case.” A loud and booming voice filled the entire room – it was from the tall man with tan skin who was standing. Tamara blinked and flinched a bit – her eyes were torn apart from the King and roamed around the room. She looked at the man who had just spoken and her forehead creased as she opened her mouth to say a word – but so

He’d gave up his status as the Mafia king when Metteo had turned twenty one as he was in no rush to leave education. He wanted to be a good business man first so he had the know how in the business world, he and Alora were both proud of his decision he’d calmed down a lot since his teenage days. He had finally got his head screwed on Gianni had taught him all there was to know about the Mafia world and what was expected of him when he finally took over the role of the Mafia king alongside his elder brother. He looked at Vallea, she seemed distracted. She’d changed since her disappearance to Italy could anyone else see it, but him? "So, what would you like to know princess?"

“He’s moving her around. Taunting us. When I catch him...” His voice trailed off. The cold focus was starting to settle under the rage, but barely. He was hanging on by threads. That evening King brought dinner again. Steak, rice, vegetables. He sat across from Hazel and watched her eat. “You’re quieter than usual tonight,” he said after a while. “But you’re eating. That’s something.” Hazel cut another piece of steak. “Not much to say.” King reached over and took her hand again. “Tell me something real. Not club bullshit. What made you the way you are?”

Corvin’s eyes softened, not with kindness, but with recognition. “Good,” the king said. “It would be dull if you were simple.” He walked to the wardrobe on the far wall, opened it, and withdrew a folded cloth. A shirt, simple linen. He held it out. Elowen didn’t move. “Put it on,” Corvin said. “Does my nudity offend you?” “No,” the king said, tone flat. “But it distracts you. And right now, I want your mind.” Elowen’s breath stuttered once, quick, internal, almost invisible.