Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5)(29)

Everything turns heightened — the rise and fall of my chest, the heat radiating off him, his smell like spice and fucking damnation. He’s all I breathe, all I see, and all I can focus on.

I don’t attempt to free myself from his clutch. I’m that marionette ready to be moved, to be controlled, to be completely at his mercy.

Snap out of it, Teal. This is Ronan — a pawn, not a fantasy.

“I thought you didn’t like touching your fiancée, the title bothering you and all that,” I try in my most neutral tone. This is the last chance I have to get rid of whatever influence he has on me.

“I lied.”

“What?”

“Or rather, I changed my mind.”

“You can’t change your mind.”

“Of course I can.” He glides his index finger over the curve of my jaw as his thumb rubs my lower lip. “Now, I’m curious about something.”

I clamp my mouth shut, but he shoves his thumb between them and presses on my lower lip then smears my lipstick like he did that first time he touched me at the library.

Just like then, a tremor shoots through my body — only this time, there’s something more potent, something dangerous.

He’s not smiling.

He’s not even attempting to smile.

“I’m curious to see how far I can take your fantasy list.”

“W-What?”

His gaze remains on my lip as if he’s entranced by the back and forth of his thumb over the tender skin. “You know, the checklist you left for me at La Débauche. Your little depraved fantasies.”

I never understood what the expression Dig myself a grave meant until this moment. I wish I could summon a hole and disappear into it.

Yes, I figured he saw that list, but I thought he’d forgotten about it, or better yet hadn’t paid it much attention.

My darkest secrets are on that list, secrets no one should see, least of all Ronan.

“And yes, I do remember them.” He smirks. “I learnt them by heart.”

Oh, God.

Oh. My. God.

“Now, let’s see, it starts with something like…” His eyes glint with pure sadism, the type I’ve never seen on his face, not even when he taunts.

His hand trails down my chest, slow, sensual even. I stop breathing altogether when he rips my shirt in the middle.

“Stripping you bare.”





13





Teal





The sound of tearing cloth fills the air as buttons fly everywhere, scattering around us.

For a second, just a moment in time, I’m too stunned to react.

For a second, I stare at him with wild eyes, as if that will make this situation a bit more understandable.

It doesn’t.

A second is all it takes for him to yank my jacket and shirt away, leaving me in my bra and uniform’s skirt.

A gust of air envelops my skin, and my heart resurrects back to life as if it had an attack — or rather an arrest.

The clothes fall to the ground with a soft whoosh, thrusting me back to reality.

I cross both arms over my chest — trembling arms, tingling fucking arms all covered in goosebumps and the promise of the unknown.

“What the fuck are you doing?” My voice is merely a whisper, not attempting to sound angry.

I should be; deep in my heart, I know I should be, but I can’t even muster up the courage to do it. There’s something about the way he ripped my clothes that’s making me weak in the legs; I’m surprised I’m able to remain standing.

“Making the fantasy come true.” He grabs my arms and shoves them both to either side of me.

His force is havoc-wreaking — it’s the type you can’t escape even if you try. It’s the type that shakes my thighs and turns me into that marionette I can’t push out of my head. Only this time, it’s the good type. The pleasurable type.

Ronan wraps a hand around my wrists and imprisons them behind my back. My breasts are thrust in his face, praying for attention.

“You have beautiful tits — did you know that?” He licks his lips like he’s about to dive into a meal as he unclasps the strap of my bra. My breasts spill free with a gentle bounce, and the look in his eyes darkens as if he’s about to devour me.

Own me.

No, no.

This is Ronan — he can’t do that.

“Stop it.” I choke on the words, my voice so weak it’s pathetic.

“Another one of your fantasies.” He wraps a finger around a nipple and twists so hard I gasp and moan at the same time. “Stop means more, doesn’t it, ma belle?”

Oh, God. Why the fuck did I write that? Why the hell does he remember it?

If I’m sick and he’s attuned to my sickness, what does that make us?

I don’t want to think about the answer. Something tells me it’d be a lot worse than the situation I’ve gotten myself into.

“You know…” He trails off, twisting my nipple again and making me fidget with the need to keep in the sounds clawing to escape. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to break someone.” He pauses, pinching again, until the searing pain takes over my entire body and my nerve endings tremble with the need for more. “No, that’s a lie. This is the second time. The first was when you knelt in front of me and moaned like a good girl. You’re not a good girl, but you turn into one when I corner you.”