Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(43)

“I’ll buy you new blades myself,” he promised, snaking his arms around my waist and leaning down to kiss my lips ever so softly. “Want to come back to my room? I think we left something unfinished earlier.” He raised a brow, and my pussy fluttered with excitement. Greedy bitch.

“I wish,” I groaned, “but despite the way Alex is fucking with my course schedule, I do still want to graduate with a degree from Arbon Academy. Which means I need to study. Raincheck?” I was lying—my grades were basically guaranteed now—but I was feeling really overwhelmed and needed a minute to get my head straight.

Jordan kissed me again, deeper this time and almost changing my mind. But then he released me with a sigh and nodded. “I’ll take that raincheck, gorgeous. See you at breakfast.”

I stood there for way longer than I needed to, watching him walk down the hallway towards the guys’ dorms. My stomach was a mess of butterflies and knots, and I had no idea which was more prevalent. I’d just been burned by Alex. It was way too soon to go sticking the crumpled remains of my heart back out there.

Maybe we could just keep it casual, though. Maybe with that looming question of my attraction to Rafe, I could guard my emotions with Jordan.

Yeah, right.

On my way back to my room, I was lost in many thoughts. Sex, espionage, viruses, international lists to purchase the perfect reproductive match. I mean, was this some sort of fucking movie or real life? Royals did not live like normal people, that much was no secret, but at the same time, I had not expected this level of insanity. Not in, like, five months of being part of this world.

Turning the final corner into my hall, there was no one in front of me, and I appreciated that I was in one of the farthest wings. Out of sight. Private.

A hand wrapped around my forearm, yanking me to the side, and while I was prepared to fight, they were as skilled as me, wrapping two arms around me and effectively trapping both of my hands.

I still had my feet though.

Throwing myself back, I cracked my assailant under the chin, hard enough that I saw stars and he swore.

The moment I heard that familiar voice, I stopped my assault. It took my heart a bit longer to calm, though.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rafe?” I whisper-yelled, wrenching myself out of his grip.

He’d pulled me into one of the secret tunnels through an entrance I hadn’t known was there. It was close to my room, and I made note of the exact panel for future reference.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with Jordan?” he snarled back.

I blinked, trying to figure out his tone. The shadowy alcove hid his expression for the most part, and I only caught a sliver of annoyance and frustration in his voice.

“Are—” I cleared my throat. “Are you jealous?”

He laughed, an immediate reaction, the sound low and husky as it traced chills down my spine. “Ah, my lovely little Cinderella.” He was so close now, his finger stroking down my cheek. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he breathed.

My heart started hammering in my chest again, and I had to clench my thighs at this assault on my senses. His smell, that feel of contained rage, the tingles on my skin from where he’d touched me.

It was too much.

“I don’t want to cause trouble between you two,” I said, sounding stupidly breathless. “That’s not my intention at all. I just… Jordan is really grea—”

My words caught again as his knuckles grazed across my nipple, one and then the other until they were stiff peaks straining against the thin material of my shirt.

“Jordan is great,” Rafe drawled. “He’s my best friend for a reason. I don’t trust many people in this world, but Jordan… he’s family.”

I was so fucking confused and so fucking turned on that it took every ounce of my control not to moan as his hand dragged even lower.

“You’re going to break his heart,” he whispered, lips against my ear. “And then I’m going to break you.”

That hand, which had been tracing my body, lifted and stroked my throat. It was partly threatening and a lot arousing.

“I care about Jordan,” I managed to choke out.

Rafe’s laugh was dark. Dangerous.

In a move faster than my sluggish brain could track, his hand was under my skirt, fingers stroking the dripping moisture between my legs. There was no stopping the moan this time as I rocked forward into that touch.

“You care about Jordan,” he mocked, “but you’re soaked for me.”

Jesus. Fuck.

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, but there was a part of me that was sure Rafe was just using me to prove a point.

Well, two could play that fucking game.

My right hand shot out, cupping his long hard length. He could spout all he wanted that I was soaked for him, but he was like a fucking baseball bat in my hands, so hard that it had to be painful.

“I think you might care more than you’re letting on,” I said, tilting my chin back, gaze clashing with his.

I licked my lips, trying not to moan again as his fingers slid inside, finding my G-spot instantly. His lips were on mine then, cruel and biting, but I didn’t care. I needed this orgasm more than I needed air.

Then, fuck Rafe, because I was leaving his dumb ass here.

Our kiss deepened, and I widened my stance, giving him more access. It took me almost no time to come, the swirling sensations low in my stomach exploding as Rafe and I kissed like we’d die if we didn’t. It was a little desperate and a lot fucking hot.