Dahmer's arms instantly locked like steel bands around Malcolm's waist, holding the writhing King securely against his chest. His fingers dug into Malcolm's hips, preventing him from scrambling backward across the center console.
"Stop squirming like a baby," Dahmer commanded, his voice a low, heavy vibration against Malcolm's chest. "You cannot just back down right now. We both need this."
Malcolm slammed his hands against Dahmer's broad shoulders, his eyes wide, wild, and burning with outrage.
"We are not doing a single damn thing until you clarify that part about my breasts swelling!" Malcolm shouted, his chest heaving as his pulse hammered in his throat. "I swear to God, Lukas, tell me right now—I am not going to grow big breasts like some woman's, right?!"
