Cruel King: A Royal Elite Book

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Cruel King: A Royal Elite Book Page 13

by Kent, Rina


  That’s it. I’m taking a taxi and hauling Dan’s arse home.

  Ronan eyes widen. “My hero.”

  “Wait.” Xander gets impossibly close until I smell blueberry pie on him. “You’re that girl Captain brought into the pool house at the beginning of summer, aren’t you?”

  Yup. The night I ruined my invisibility.

  Why did I have to stumble into Levi back then?

  “Oh. That one.” Even Ronan’s smile falls and the air shifts from playful to tension-filled.

  “She’s an artist and hates athlete so screw off, Ro, ” Dan continues in a half-slur.

  “My mother is into collecting,” Ronan offers with a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you want to see?”

  “Dan?” I ask. I need to talk to him and stop him from broadcasting my damn life to his football friends.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Ronan directs us while Xander disappears with one of the girls. They all seem to be throwing themselves at the football team tonight.

  Like a certain Nicole.

  No. Nope. My mind isn’t going there.

  Pressure perches on my chest whenever that image pops back in my head.

  Dan leans on me, laughing and hooting whenever one of his teammates pass by or waves at him.

  We go inside the room Ronan directed us to. It’s an office with a mahogany desk and chairs. All the walls are covered in impressionist artwork sorted from lighter to darker. All of them are shades of white, grey, and white.

  Interesting choice of colours for a woman. Ronan’s mother must be alpha to the bone.

  “What is it?” Dan blinks, fingering a Buddha bronze statue.

  “Can we go home?”

  “Now?” His brows scrunch. “The party just started.”

  I want to mention that he’s been getting into too many parties lately, but I don’t want him to think I’m making all of this about me again.

  “I know you don’t like these scenes,” he approaches and clutches my shoulders. “But it’s our last year, remember? We’re having all the fun so there will be no regrets. Wait.” He wipes under my eyes. “Were you crying?”

  “No, yes, I don’t know.” I bite my lower lip and then I just blurt it all out, from this morning about my fight with Victoria and Nicole straight to when I found the same Nicole sucking Levi’s dick.

  “Fucking Nicole,” he breathes out. “I can’t believe he took the exhibition off the table.”

  My head bows as Dan stands against the desk with me.

  “And then she sucked off Captain.” He sounds soberer than he did a few minutes ago.

  He didn’t ask the question, but I nod anyway, my chest tightening at that image.

  Daniel remains quiet for a beat. “Why do you care who sucks off Captain?”

  My head jerks up at that. “I… don’t.”

  “You most certainly do.” He smiles a little with a sense of bitterness. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so upset right now. Do you like him?”

  “Of course not! He’s a fucking bastard who thinks he’s entitled to everything. I hate his type, remember?”

  “Yeah, but maybe you noticed he’s not exactly that type?”

  I did and I hate him even more for it. Why did he show me layers of himself if he was going to have Nicole suck him off?

  “You know…” he trails off.

  “What?”

  “I heard this from Ronan when he was drunk, but it seems that Captain is under a lot of pressure from his uncle and maybe that has to do with why he’s bothering you?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Hey, little bugger. We’re not supposed to be running away from our problems, remember?” He nudges my shoulder. “Or there will be no marathoning Vikings.”

  “That’s torture.” I smile, giving him a bro hug. “Go ahead and have fun. I know you’re dying to shag someone.”

  “Thank fuck,” he chuckles. “But seriously, are you going to be alright?”

  “Yeah, I’ll just spend some time here and then come find you?”

  “Give me time for a quickie.”

  I jab him. “I didn’t need that image.”

  He laughs. “See you, crazy.”

  “Duh, crazy.”

  Takeaway by The Chainsmokers filters from the door as Dan slips out then closes the door behind him, muting the outside world.

  I continue leaning against the table, staring at the opposite wall and the clash of white and black. It’s like a yin and yang. Good versus evil. Angel versus the devil.

  I try to focus some more and read into it, but all I keep seeing is Nicole’s smug smirk and Levi’s black one. He must’ve been out of his mind with desire for her.

  Maybe he’s already having sex with her right now.

  I seal my eyes shut, urging the images to disappear.

  Too late. I painted the picture and now, it refuses to go away.

  I can’t believe I was worried about him earlier today.

  Why? Just why would I care about that scum?

  I should be focusing on more important things. Such as my hit-and-run accident and trying to remember any snippets from that night.

  The chaos from the party filters back into the room. I open my eyes, happy that Dan returned for me. Maybe he had too many drinks and decided to go home.

  My breath catches in my throat when the door closes and Levi advances towards me with sure, wide steps.

  A chaotic string of feelings pushes through me. I want to hit and claw at him. I want to scream at him, but that will only show that I care, so I pretend to watch the painting of good versus evil as I ask, “Aren’t you supposed to be with Nicole?”

  He grabs both my hands in his stronger one. “I’m supposed to be right fucking here, princess.”

  24

  Astrid

  It’s not me, it’s you.

  * * *

  “Don't touch me,” I grit out.

  His body pushes into me, hands tightening around my wrists.

  The small of my back hits the table as he towers over me, all hard ridges and powerful. However, I feel no intimidation.

  Hell, I don’t even see him as an irresistible Viking right now.

  He’s just a fucking bastard.

  “I told you I’ll ruin you.” There’s a maliciousness in his tone. A sharpness that’s meant to cut. “I told you I’ll break you, but you still didn’t back down. You still taunted me as if asking me to retaliate harder.”

  “Fuck you, Levi. Fuck. You. All I ever wanted is to live my last year in peace, but no, you had to ruin everything. Did I ask you to take an interest in me? Did I fucking make you? You’re the one who set out to destroy me in your stupid games.”

  “And you’re the one who refused to lose.” His face tightens as if he’s the one mad, not the other way around.

  “I wasn’t born to lose or to become a pawn on your board.”

  He watches me, then, all intent as if he’s cutting me open and looking inside me. It would’ve been unnerving under different circumstances, but now, all I feel is contempt.

  I want to ruin him as much as he ruined me.

  This time, I want to be the predator instead of the prey.

  “What you saw isn’t what it seemed,” he says in a cool tone like we’re discussing the weather.

  "Sure thing. I definitely didn't see you getting your dick sucked by Nicole, King."

  “Don't call me that.”

  “Isn’t that what you demand everyone to call you, King?”

  “Not you.”

  As if possible, his chest comes impossibly closer. My breasts brush against his Elites’ jacket with every breath. I try not to focus on how full and tight they feel or how my nipples ache in response.

  His fresh scent mixed with a distant whiff of Vodka fills all my senses.

  His presence is like a natural disaster; impossible to avoid and always leaves destruction behind.

  And I refuse to be collateral damage. />
  I struggle against him, trying to headbutt him, but he easily moves out of the way.

  “Do you consider me a joke?”

  “A joke,” he repeats slowly, keeping his merciless hold on my wrists.

  “Or am I a conquest? A war you need to win.”

  “A war is a fucking child’s play compared to you, princess.”

  “How many girls have you told that? Does that include Nicole? You know with her taking care of the captain and all that.”

  His lips curve into a wolfish smirk. Damn him and how unreal he looks. “Why are you so upset, princess?”

  “I'm not.”

  "Are you perhaps jealous?"

  “Screw. You.”

  And screw Nicole and screw my heart for ever thumping for this bastard.

  He pushes his pelvis into the space where my T-shirt meets my skirt. Something hard and thick presses at the bottom of my stomach through his jeans.

  I can’t help the shudder that draws down my spine.

  “Do you feel that, princess? There’s nothing more I want to do than to spread your legs and fuck you raw.”

  His dirty words elicit a tightening at the pit of my stomach. It’s like a flashback from that night and I’m hardly stopping myself from rubbing all over him.

  Then I recall, a certain blondie has been rubbing all over him not so long ago.

  I bite my lower lip until I almost draw blood. “Nicole’s sloppy seconds aren’t on my to-do list.”

  “Fuck Nicole. Fuck everyone. None of them matter.”

  “And I do?” I scoff.

  “You do.”

  He pauses as if he surprised himself. His posture turns tense and we watch each other for a second too long as if we need to soak in the moment.

  I’m the first who pulls myself out of the trance. “Leave me alone, King.”

  “I told you to stop calling me that.”

  He releases my wrists and grabs me by the hips. His hands are large and strong around my petite frame as he lifts me with ease.

  I yelp as he sits me on the desk. He slaps my legs apart. The denim skirt stretches with the motion as he settles between my parted thighs.

  Tiny shivers break on my skin and down my back.

  “Do you know who I thought about when Nicole was between my legs.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  His hot breaths tease the shell of my ear, drawing a shudder from my inner walls. “You don’t, huh?”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m telling you, anyway. When she looked up, it was these green gates.” His fingers trace along my eyelashes. “When she opened her mouth, I saw these lips.” He trails a forefinger from my eyes to the corner of my mouth, hovering but not touching.

  I swallow around the sound clawing its way out. My breathing shatters and breaks with every draw.

  “Then what?” My voice is low, defeated. “You would’ve fucked her and pretended it’s me?”

  “She’s not you.”

  The words are barely out of his mouth and his entire posture stiffens like he hates it. He hates that she’s not me. That he can’t play his games on her and pretend it’s me.

  And for some reason, that makes me feel a strange sense of accomplishment.

  Even the king doesn’t always get what he wants.

  Levi grabs a handful of my hair in his fist and pulls until my head tilts back. He trails his other hand up my collarbone and wraps it around my throat.

  His hold is firm enough to make sure I know he’s controlling my breathing. One squeeze and all air will be gone.

  My pulse goes on overdrive until it’s impossible to hear it.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  At this angle, I have a complete view of the clenching in his sharp jawline, the contempt on his hard features, and the black in his pale eyes.

  I’m starting to think that for Levi, black isn’t a colour. It’s a state of mind and being.

  A monster hides behind that sinister, menacing look. A monster who’ll rip me to pieces if I let him.

  Scratch that. He’ll rip me apart even if I don’t let him.

  I’ve already provoked the king and now, there’s no going back to being a mere pawn on the enemies’ lines. My best bet is to climb the ranks and somehow bring down the king.

  He squeezes my throat for a beat. “No one is you, princess.”

  My chest rises and falls so hard, I’m glad that my heart is an organ and can’t possibly rip its way out of my ribcage kamikaze style.

  I place a hand on his chest in a sorry attempt to push him away. “This can’t happen. I hate you, Levi. ”

  “If it makes you feel better then hate me all you want.” He runs his lips along the shell of my ear, flicking his tongue out to tease the heated skin.

  A small gasp tears past my lips and I can’t help angling my neck to the side even with his hand keeping me in place.

  “You and I are toxic.” I breathe in a low tone. “We’re nothing alike.”

  “It’s different poles who attract,” he speaks against my ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh.

  I bite my lower lip against the onslaught of emotions. I clench my thighs but that only manages to squeeze him harder against my slick core.

  “Different poles also destroy each other.”

  “I’m good with that, too.”

  I open my mouth to protest. Any words I was about to say end in a gasp when his lips claim mine. Unlike the kiss in the car park, this one is more desperate, violent, and out of fucking control.

  His teeth clash against mine and his tongue thrusts in like he always owned this part of me.

  Like he’s had me his entire life.

  I don’t fight it this time. I can’t.

  When he pulls on my hair, I tilt my head back and let him kiss me. No. Scratch that. Because Levi doesn’t kiss, he devours. He eats me up like I’m his favourite flavour.

  Then, a second later, he squeezes my neck and wrenches our mouths apart.

  I’m panting and begging for air, but all I can think about is… more.

  I need more.

  Our mouths aren’t meant for breathing or talking. They were made for kissing.

  It’s a freaking crime that he hasn’t been kissing me all this time. We should’ve been kissing since that night I was all drugged with him and his touch.

  Only I’m not drugged now, am I?

  Levi is the drug. I’m a victim of my addiction to him.

  I’m a victim of his obsession with me and the way he looks at me as if I’m his life’s dilemma.

  “Don’t come cheering for others at my game,” he growls the word against my throat.

  “W-what?”

  “Don’t stand there calling another guy’s name in my fucking presence.”

  I smile, incredulous. “Are you… obsessed with me or something?”

  “Call it an obsession or foolishness or fucking madness,” he grunts, squeezing my throat. “But you keep your eyes on me.”

  I don’t get to reply because his tongue invades my mouth. Conquers it. Smashes it. Like it’s his God-given right. Like I was made for him to conquer.

  The biggest part of me wants to give back what he takes. I want to kiss him like I can win the battle, too. I want to claw at his defences and pull down his walls.

  But that’s not who I am, right? I’m not supposed to go on battles and wars. I’m supposed to finish my damn year in peace.

  I rip away from his mouth with a groan. “I…”

  “Stop denying it.” The pale blue of his eyes traps me in an enchanting spell. With one last squeeze to my throat, he trails his hand to my breast, cupping it. “These feel so full, don’t they?”

  I shake my head even as my nipples harden like never before.

  “But look at them pushing against the T-shirt. I bet they want me to feel them, huh?”

  He flicks his thumb against my nipple over the cloth. His dirty words and his touch put me on a magnitude of sensations.


  Everything feels ten folds sharper.

  The desk’s wood under me is too hard. The soft light has suddenly become too bright. His intoxicating scent has become opium or a shot of alcohol.

  “Lie all you want, but I can feel your arousal, princess.”

  I’m about to protest when he pinches my nipple hard.

  My head falls back on a moan. “Oh, God.”

  He continues twirling the nipple, playing then pinching it as if it’s a torture device. And in a way, it is.

  Hot breaths tickle my ear as he whispers, “Are you telling me that if I touch you right now, you won’t be dripping wet?”

  “L-Levi…” It was supposed to be a protest, but I’m too drugged on his dirty words.

  Not to mention that the double onslaught on my breast and ear is making me too hazy to think.

  “Tell me, princess, if I push through your folds, are you going to soak me?”

  I don’t get to reply.

  With his grip on my hair, he pushes me back and yanks my skirt to my mid-section, exposing my pale thighs and the black boy shorts.

  The spark of lust in his eyes mixes with that strange blackness.

  “Levi, you—”

  My words die out when he cups me over my boy shorts. I bite my lower lip against the moan. It’s like all my nerves have gathered underneath his hand.

  “You are wet.” His wolfish grin make me draw a stuttering breath.

  “How do I make you wet, princess?”

  His fingers inch to the band of my underwear. “Is it how I touch you here?” He slips a finger over the cloth, rubbing up and down. “Do you want me to stick it in you? Are you going to swallow me in like a good little princess?”

  Although his touch and dirty words are maddening, it’s the look in his eyes that make me want to free fall to sin.

  He looks at me as if I’m the most appetising thing he’s ever seen. He’s starving and his unapologetic, raw hunger is rubbing off on me.

  “You’ll come for me won’t you?” he growls. “You’ll scream so loud, you’ll bring the whole fucking house down, huh? Everyone will know you’re being fucked real good, won’t they?”

  Oh for the love of Vikings, why does every word he says turn me on even more?

 

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