"Baby, come on," Marcus soothed, trying to comfort him. He gently climbed on top of King, attempting to kiss his shoulder.
King didn't scream, but the sudden weight and restricted movement was a devastating trigger. He felt the cold shock of panic, his mind instantly flashing back to the crushing pressure of Win's assault. His breath hitched, turning into a ragged sob.
"Get off me!" King cried, his voice raw and frantic. He shoved Marcus hard, scrambling backward until his spine hit the headboard. He pulled the covers up to his neck, his eyes wide and fixed on Marcus with pure affliction.
Marcus rolled off him, sitting up instantly, stunned by the violent rejection. "Whoa! King, what's wrong? I'm sorry, I thought we were ready, but I didn't mean to scare you."
King was shaking uncontrollably, trapped by the memory. He looked at the kind, confused face of Marcus, and the realization hit him: he couldn't do this. He was still profoundly broken.
