Cruel King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Jillian Quinn

  Brittany didn’t argue with Stephan. She stomped away from us with a loud grunt.

  My face hurt from smiling so wide.

  Stephan turned to his brother and said under his breath, but low enough for me to hear, “Keep her friend company. I have to talk to Isabella.”

  Fear shot through me. He wanted to talk to me? I’d never been alone with Stephan, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be. Because I was afraid of what I would do with him given the chance. What I’d allow him to do to me. So many nights I’d thought of Stephan when I was alone and under the covers, imaging his hand was mine.

  Nino looked at Nicole with a sexy smirk. He liked what he saw. She smiled, and her entire face lit up with excitement.

  Her skin was like milk, smooth and clear, unblemished. Nicole was a pretty girl, with light features, a slim figure, and kind eyes. It wasn’t hard to see why she was on Brittany’s radar. She was afraid of any competition when it came to the boys at our school.

  “Go with Nino,” I said to Nicole. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay,” she muttered. “Don’t be too long.”

  I smiled. “I won’t.”

  With a slight head gesture in my direction, Stephan told me to follow behind him. I handed the pastry dish and latte cup to Nino and asked him to watch my food for me before I slinked out the door behind Stephan. He waited for me in the hallway, down by the gymnasium doors. His arms were folded across his thick chest, his muscles bulging beneath the navy sweater everyone at Walcott had to wear. Stephan was a sight, his legs long and toned in khaki pants that fit him as if they were sewn onto his body.

  My heart raced from the anticipation of being alone with him. When I moved closer to Stephan, he pushed into the gymnasium doors and disappeared through them. Was this a game? I was so aroused by the promise of spending time with Stephan my legs trembled. It was good nerves, the kind that propelled me toward him.

  The gym was dark, save for the light that filtered in through the high windows on the south side of the large, open room. Stephan climbed the bleachers, not bothering to look back at me until he’d reached the top. He sat and patted the space next to him. His hand slapping against the wooden bench echoed throughout the room.

  My heart beat loudly in my ears. It was so quiet inside the gym I’d wondered if Stephan heard it too when I took my seat next to him.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He set his big hand on the bench, filling the space between us. “I’m not going to bite… not unless you want me to.”

  I sucked in a breath of air, which sounded like a soft moan when I released it. He stared at me, his deep blue irises intense, frightening. His words said one thing, but his eyes said another. Stephan was dangerous, even when we were kids I knew he had the power to crush me. To destroy anyone in his path. He would ruin me if I let him, and in that moment, I wanted him to show me all the dirty things I’d thought of when I saw him.

  I inched my fingers closer to his until they made contact and sparks shot through the tips. Our connection was electric, further intensified when he wove his fingers between mine.

  “We’re not allowed to be together,” I said, my voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “My father will kill you.”

  He smirked. “Like I care what he thinks of me. I’d like to see him try.”

  “You should care. He hurts anyone who gets too close to me. I’m damaged goods, didn’t you know? No one will even talk to me because of him.”

  “I’m talking to you right now.” He pushed a fallen strand of hair behind my ear and cupped the side of my face with his hand. “You’re not damaged.”

  “You say that because you know nothing about me.”

  Stephan moved his thumb from my cheek to run it along my bottom lip. “You’re like a pretty bird locked away in a cage for everyone to see. My beautiful raven.” He released his hold on my face and sighed. “He can’t keep you caged forever.”

  Stunned, I stared at him, unblinking. “Free me.”

  The words fell from my lips before I could stop myself.

  “I will,” he said, hesitating with the next part, “when the time is right.”

  He acted as if he could control what happened to me. Little did I know back then that Stephan was no ordinary boy, and he would become an extraordinary man.

  Stephan slid his hand into his pocket. He held a velvet pouch from Tiffany’s in his palm so I could see it before he removed a thick choker. “I had this made for you. Someone told me Tiffany’s is your favorite.” Balancing the white gold choker on his finger, he let it dangle there for a second, waiting for me to reach for it.

  “I don’t deserve a present.” I looked at him, confused, my eyes moving between Stephan and the necklace. “Why?”

  “It’s your birthday, is it not?” He opened the clasp and held the chain with both hands. “It’s rude to refuse a gift on your birthday. Turn around.”

  Birthdays and holidays, in general, were not important in my house. Every year, I would get a gift my father’s secretary had sent to me from some overpriced designer with a note written by the woman who packaged the box. Nothing was ever personalized or special. Half the time my parents weren’t even home, leaving my older brother and the staff to celebrate with me.

  I did as Stephan asked, my back now facing him. “How did you know?”

  “I know everything about you,” he growled.

  “Everything?” My voice creaked when I spoke.

  He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he moved behind me, his arms now in front of me to lower the chain to my neck. With Stephan touching me, it was as if fire had licked my skin, its destructive flames dancing down my arms. I leaned back, without meaning to get too close, and when I did, Stephan moved his hands to my hips.

  “Stephan,” I choked out.

  “Raven,” he said against the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver.

  I liked his nickname for me. It fit my situation perfectly. My father locked me inside the house, forced me to become the person he wanted me to be. I was a prisoner more than anything. Stephan wasn’t wrong about my life or me. Even when I’d tried to escape, he found me and made me pay for my actions.

  “Happy birthday, beautiful.” His warm breath on my skin did something unexpected between my legs. He hadn’t even touched me, and I was wet and panting, wishing he would slip his hand beneath my skirt.

  “Thank you, Stephan. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “Have you ever been kissed?” He said the words against my neck, his lips so close he could feel my rapid pulse.

  “No,” I admitted, which was sad because I was now eighteen and six months away from graduation.

  He held my jaw in his hand and tilted my head up until our eyes met. “I want to be your first everything. Even if I can’t have you now, I will at some point. And I want you to wait for me. Will you do that for me?”

  “Yes… but my dad will never allow you anywhere near me. He hates your family. He says you’re all thugs and criminals and that no child of his will ever associate with a DeLuca.”

  “He doesn’t have to know about us.”

  I laughed. “You don’t know him like I do. He’ll find out one way or another. He has spies everywhere.”

  Stephan held me tight, angling my body so my head was on his shoulder and his arm was around my stomach. “Then we’d better make use of our time.”

  His lips crashed against mine with rough possession, his tongue invading my mouth like he wanted to conquer me. I moaned with each kiss he stole from my lips. He growled as if he was hungry and needed me to satiate his desire. My entire body came to life as adrenaline shot through me, rushing into my veins.

  His hand moved from my stomach to my breast, his fingers circling my nipple over the fabric of my sweater. They were hard peaks, pointed at him. It was too hot in the gymnasium, the air too thick to breathe.

  Without breaking the kiss, I rolled my sweater and blouse up, giving him a
ccess to slide his hand beneath my lacy bra. He pushed it out of the way, massaging my nipples with the pads of his thumbs. He pinched the swollen buds, ripping a scream from my lips that he smothered with another kiss. My core clenched, every inch of me begging for more.

  I was acting like such a whore with Walcott Prep’s hottest bad boy. But I didn’t care. Stephan was mine as much I was his. Every part of me knew that was the truth. Sure, we were acting purely out of lust, though for both of us it felt like so much more. I needed this. My life was a series of organized events, choreographed by my crazed father. Times like this were few and far between.

  Desperate for the aching between my legs to stop, I clamped my hand over Stephan’s and guided him. He moved my panties to the side, a growl escaping his lips when he dragged his finger along my slick folds.

  “You’re the one who’s gonna kill me,” he grunted, and then plunged two fingers inside me.

  I moaned so loud he covered my mouth with his to silence me. But as he worked his magic, sliding his fingers in and out of me, hitting every inch of my inner walls like a skilled magician, I came undone. I rocked my hips into his hand to push him further, tightening around his fingers. The long, hard length of his erection dug into my lower back. Knowing I had the same effect on him as he did on me somehow intensified my pleasure.

  He kissed my neck as he fucked me with his long fingers, his teeth grazing my skin. “My raven,” he whispered. “One day you’ll be free.” His words seemed to line up with my orgasm, and as he continued to say sweet things to me, my body trembled. Heat pricked my cheeks, spreading down my neck and arms until it covered my chest. Sweat dotted my forehead, tiny beads that dampened my skin.

  At the full height of my climax, I whimpered his name, and when I came down from my high, I was gasping for air.

  “Fuck, that was hot.” Stephan slid his fingers out of me, his movement so slow he hit another pleasure point that caused me to squeal. “Mmm… that was even hotter.” He stuck his fingers in his mouth to lick my juices from them. “Now that I’ve tasted you…” he said between sucking on his fingers, “… I’ll never get you out of my head. I thought I could stay away from you… I tried to keep my distance.”

  “I don’t want you to,” I confessed.

  “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

  After I moved my clothes back into place, I sat up, still in Stephan’s arms. He kissed me, a quick peck that was enough for me to taste a hint of myself on his tongue.

  I grabbed the charm hanging from the choker and rubbed it between my fingers, feeling the beveled edges of a feather. Without asking him, I knew its meaning. I was his raven, his pretty little bird he wanted to free from her cage. And this was his way of telling me I belonged to him. There was nothing I wanted more.

  Chapter Three

  Isabella

  “Happy birthday, Isabella, happy birthday to you,” Mark and Carmella finished singing as I sat in front of my cake.

  My older brother, Mark, sat on my left and Carmella, my childhood nanny and mother figure, was on my right. They were the only people on earth who kept me going every day. Without them, I would be lost.

  A few members of the staff crowded around the table. Their hands rose to clap for the occasion and to wish me a happy birthday. This was the norm in our house. I was lucky enough to have my brother and the people my father paid here with me. They were my family more so than my parents.

  Mark smacked a kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, Bella. You’re an adult now. You can do anything you want. So, what’s it gonna be?”

  “Except drink in a bar,” I countered. “Or gamble.”

  Carmella kissed my other cheek and whispered, “Buon compleanno, mi amore,” in my ear, which translated to ‘Happy birthday, my love’ in Italian.

  I kissed her back. “Thanks, Carm.”

  “I can sneak you into a bar. If you want.” Mark sat back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, waiting for the cake to be cut and served. “We can also hang out here. I have some vodka in the pool house and wine coolers if you want some girly shit.”

  I laughed and nudged him in the side. “I am a girl, silly.”

  Since my eighteenth birthday was a day of firsts, I decided to take Mark up on his offer. My father was in Washington D.C. on business. He always had his spies in place, but I didn’t care. One drink wouldn’t kill me.

  “How about some champagne instead?”

  Mark nodded. “Done. It’s your special day, birthday girl.” He looked behind my chair at Carmella. “Do we have any champagne in the basement?”

  “Plenty. Your parents always have a supply for parties.” She pushed her chair out from the table and stood. “I’ll grab a few bottles.”

  I folded my hands on the long dining room table, which was large enough to seat twenty people comfortably, and glanced at Mark. “How’s college?”

  “Awesome, one party after the next.”

  “You’re so lucky.” I sighed, wishing I could have the life Mark was living in Manhattan at Columbia University, our father’s alma mater.

  “You’ll be on campus with me in the fall.” He covered my hands with one of his and squeezed. “Only nine more months until you’re free of this place.”

  “I’ll never be free of Dad,” I countered, annoyed by the truth. “We both know he’ll have me watched like a hawk. He never lets me do anything fun.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and to the camera in the corner of the room. It was a tiny orb, almost invisible if you didn’t know where it was placed. My father had designed the security system in our house to blend in with the décor. But everyone who lived here knew where to look and the timing of each camera.

  I lived my entire life under a microscope, each portion of it analyzed and inspected as if my entire existence was a specimen in a science lab. Sometimes, I felt like a lab rat, locked inside my cage until the mad scientist decided I was allowed out to play. This house was a prison more than a home. It was as cold and uninviting as my family. The only thing that gave the old mansion warmth was the staff. I knew every one of their names and considered them friends, where my father didn’t even acknowledge they existed.

  Carmella returned with two bottles of champagne, one in each hand. She set them on the table next to Mark and ran into the kitchen to grab two glasses.

  “Aren’t you going to drink with us?”

  Carmella gave me a confused look. “I’m still on duty.”

  “It’s my birthday. You don’t have to work.” I threw my hand out in the direction of the kitchen door behind her. “Get another glass and come sit with us. In fact, get one for everyone who’s working right now. They should be here for the toast Mark’s about to give.”

  Mark laughed. “A toast? Who said I was giving one?”

  “I did.” I smiled at him, and then rubbed my hand on top of his head, messing up his shaggy blond hair.

  He had our mother’s light hair and pale blue eyes, where I had our father’s dark complexion and hazel irises. We looked nothing alike, so different you couldn’t even tell we were related.

  Carmella came back into the formal dining room with several glasses. A few members of the staff stood on the opposite side of the table from us with their hands behind their backs, lined up along the wall. My father made them wait in the same fashion while he ate. I hated how he treated them. Even with my parents out of the equation for the night, the fear was still there. He had this effect on everyone he encountered.

  Mark opened a bottle of champagne. The cork made a loud pop that echoed off the vaulted ceilings. You could hear everything in this house. With the exception of throw rugs, we didn’t have a speck of carpet. Every step someone took on the tiled and hardwood floors were audible to anyone within hearing distance. I’d suspected my father preferred it this way, so there were no surprises.

  Mark handed glasses to Carmella and me and then raised his in the air. “My sister wanted me to give a speech for her birthday. I’m
tempted to roast her, but she doesn’t have enough embarrassing moments for me to make fun of… not unless I count the time when she was eleven and—”

  “Don’t you dare,” I warned, pointing my finger at him.

  He stared around the room for a second until his eyes landed on me. “Ah, don’t worry, little sis, I won’t tell everyone your deep, dark secrets.”

  That was a joke. How could anyone have secrets in this family? I couldn’t even steal a candy bar from the kitchen without my father knowing.

  “Okay,” Mark recouped. “In all seriousness, it’s my baby sister’s eighteenth birthday. She’s acing all her classes, got her early acceptance letter to Columbia, and I couldn’t be more proud of her. Isabella is the best of us all and probably the smartest.” He covered the side of his mouth with his hand and laughed. “But don’t tell her that. We don’t want her to get a big head about it.”

  I stared up at him with a wide grin and mouthed ‘thank you.’ Mark always knew how to make a shitty situation better. He was my rock, the one person I could talk to when I needed to vent. No one understood what it was like to be a Parisi more than him. I was so happy our parents didn’t care enough to be here with us. They would have made the entire night suck.

  I clutched the feather charm between my fingers, feeling each ridge engraved into the gold. Stephan remembered my birthday, made sure it was special for me. My heart slammed against my rib cage when I thought of him. He was my addiction, one I wanted to feed as often as possible.

  After we finished a piece of cake and a glass of champagne, Mark dragged me outside. The chill in the air caused the hair on my arms to stand at attention. Even for this time of the year, it was freezing. Our property was located at the top of the hill, with a perfect view of the Long Island Sound from beyond the wrought iron fence, which spanned the perimeter. I could hear the water from a distance, waves hitting the rocks below us.

  We moved past the pool and to the small house behind it. To our right were living quarters for the staff, and to the left, the pool house where Mark spent most of his time when he was home from school.