Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(5)

“Oh, precious little street princess. I have every intention of doing just that.”

The way he bit his lower lip was almost enough to make me come again right then, but I clenched my teeth and met his stare unflinchingly.

“Well? Go on then, I’m wait—” I didn’t get to finish my taunt.

Seconds later I was flat on my back, my legs draped over Rafe’s shoulders and his face buried between my thighs as I screamed through another crazy intense orgasm. And another. Suffice it to say, he hadn’t been bluffing.

By the time I was balanced on the edge of my fourth orgasm, my short nails had raked bloody lines and marks all over his broad back. His cock was buried back inside me again, and we were both slick with sweat as we moved together. We’d long since given up trading verbal barbs, choosing to use our mouths for far more important things. Like breathing.

Knowing full damn well that if he dragged a fifth orgasm from me, I was probably going to spontaneously combust, I took matters into my own hands. Dredging up what little strength I still had left, I rolled us over until I was on top, grinning down at Rafe’s sweaty, dazed face. His dark hair was disheveled, and my blood pounded harder through my veins at just how stunning he really was.

I braced my hands on his chest, balancing as I rode him with determination. This time I wasn’t just chasing down my own climax, I wanted his, too.

A throaty groan purred out of him when I shifted my weight, arching my back and finding that sweet spot. That exact, perfect angle that saw the head of his cock rubbing my G-spot.

“Holy fucking shit,” I panted, feeling his huge, rough hands cupping my breasts. His fingers rolled my nipples, pinching them roughly as I whimpered encouragement.

He was close. I could tell by the tension in his shoulders, by the tightness in his jaw and the slightly panicked, deranged look on his face. Still, the way he watched me with those sexy, hooded eyes was a touch too intense for my liking. His walls were down, the neutral mask nowhere to be seen, and it was all too fucking much. He stared up at me like I was some kind of… I don’t even know. Maybe it’d been a while since a girl had rocked his world like this.

It only took a few more seconds for me to be gasping and thrashing with my climax. It was the best one, though, because somewhere along the way Rafe totally lost it along with me. He came hard, crying out with his own earth-shattering release. Or I fucking hoped it was earth-shattering for him, too.

I was done. My body no longer obeyed my commands, and I just kind of collapsed into a boneless heap on Rafe’s muscled, colorfully inked chest. Damn, his ink was sexy.

“Are we seriously cuddling right now?” His raspy, sarcastic question magically mustered up a flicker of strength in me. Amazing how that worked.

Growling a pissed-off sound in my throat, I rolled off him, then used my jelly legs to shove him off the bed. “Fuck off, Rafe. We don’t kiss and we sure as shit don’t cuddle.” One final shove with my feet saw him thump onto the carpet, and the pained groan he let out said he was just as wrecked as I was. Hah. Served him right.

I draped an arm across my face, feeling my chest heave as I still fought to catch my breath. Rafe made more exhausted complaining noises as he stood up from the floor, then the mattress dipped with his weight as he leaned over me.

“We’ll see about that, Violence,” he whispered, his breath feathering my skin the only warning before he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth and gave it a teasing bite. “I’m taking a shower. Someone got blood all over me.”

I didn’t move, didn’t breathe again, until I heard the bathroom door close and the water turn on. Only then did I sit up just enough to frown down at my body.

Yep, sure enough, I had a half dozen small cuts and lacerations from my tournament fight, which were still oozing fresh blood. My brain barely registered anything more than a dull ache from them, but it wasn’t pretty. Maybe a shower wasn’t such a bad idea…

Maybe I should join Rafe…

Just as that thought crossed my mind, the heavy click of a door unlocking reached my ears, and the front door of the studio burst open.

“Violet!” Jordan exclaimed, his eyes widening when he saw me sitting there on the bed. “Thank fuck you’re okay!” He crossed the room in all of three steps, and the next thing I knew his lips were on mine.

Shock didn’t even begin to describe what was going on in my brain. Jordan was kissing me? Jordan. Prince of New America. Kissing me. After I’d just fucked his best friend six ways to Sunday.

Shock was fully to blame for what happened next.

I kissed him back.

Jordan hadn’t really been on my radar until now. I mean, sure, I was attracted to him on a physiological level, but I’d been so consumed by Alex and then… Rafe.

Confusion stunned me, and I acted on instinct.

My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer to me, even as he pressed me back into the bed. He nipped and sucked at my lips like he’d been thinking about doing this for way too freaking long, and damn if I didn’t repay the favor. Could I actually be crushing on Jordan as hard as Rafe? Where the hell had that come from?

“Violet, baby,” he groaned, his fingers flexing on my bare hip, “you’re naked. Wait.” He pulled back from our kiss, a frown creasing his brow. “Wait. You’re naked. Why are you naked?”

“Probably because she was about to join me in the shower for orgasm number, oh, what are we up to now, Vi? Six? Seven?” Rafe’s cocky sneer was full of venom as he leaned on the bathroom doorframe. A pale blue towel was tucked low around his hips, and his huge, muscular arms were folded across his inked chest. The part that turned my stomach and chilled my soul, though, was the ice-cold look in his eyes.