The same hunger that now burns in me for him.
William.
I stop at the window and press my palm to the cool glass. Making him mine. Truly mine. Not just a sweet Little I can spank in libraries and leave aching with need.
Butmyboy.
Sleeping in my bed.
Wearing my marks of discipline and kneeling at my feet when the weight of the pakhan title becomes too heavy. The thought both thrills and unsettles me.
Will I still be able to be ruthless?
Can I still be the man who buried two brothers and took their throne? The Young Menace who became something far darker?
Or will softness creep in? Will I hesitate when I need to pull the trigger? Will I put his safety above the family’s survival?
I clench my jaw.No. I refuse to let that happen.
Having William will not weaken me. Far from it, in fact. It will sharpen me. The boy will be the reason I become even more vicious, more calculating, more deadly. Every enemy whothreatens what is mine will learn exactly how far I am willing to go.
My revenge for Milo and Loren will burn hotter with William waiting for me at home.
I will protect the boy with the same brutality I use to protect the Kamedov name. He will make me stronger. Not softer.
I walk to the sideboard, pour two fingers of ice-cold vodka, and raise the glass toward the glittering skyline.
“To my boy,” I murmur, then toss it back. The burn feels righteous. I smile at the thought of him arriving here soon… wide-eyed, nervous, already hard for me.
My apartment. My rules. My control.
I pour another shot and savor the anticipation.
* * *
Two hours later the apartment door opens. Padraig gives me a respectful nod and steps back out without a word. The heavy door clicks shut behind him.
It’s just me and William now.
The boy stands in the entrance hallway. His blonde hair is slightly messy from the drive, his eyes huge with fear… and something else. Something he’s trying desperately to hide.
Arousal.
I can see it in the flush on his cheeks, the way his thighs press together and twist to hide his erection, the quick rise and fall of his chest.
I walk toward him slowly, deliberately.
William doesn’t back away, but his breathing quickens.
“Have you been a good boy while you were gone, William?” I ask, voice low.
He swallows. “Yes.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “But…?”
His gaze drops to the floor. “I’ve been a little naughty,” he whispers. “But I don’t want to tell you the details.”
A dark chuckle leaves me. “Oh, you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
