Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 16
Do not punch your best friend.
Do not punch your best friend.
Do not punch your best friend.
The mantra continues to play on repeat as it did throughout the whole ring spectacle.
Christ.
That whole thing felt like a car wreck I couldn’t look away from, all while being repeatedly kicked in the balls as I watched.
I’m pissed, and I’m sure my father will have something to say about my abrupt departure during the happy moment.
I don’t give a fuck. I may be playing along, letting him believe I’m following his hands off directive, but if he thinks I can sit silently by while they insist on playing out this farce, he has another thing coming.
I’m pissed beyond measure. Not even the chilly night air is enough to cool me down as I stalk through the gardens at the back of the Delacourte property.
The beast inside my chest roars like never before.
I knew coming tonight was a mistake. It was going to be hard enough to keep my hands to myself when every instinct inside me demands the opposite. I convinced myself I could handle it. I’m a man. I’m not a slave to my urges or my dick.
That was before there was a ring. Without it, I was able to pretend the engagement wasn’t real.
Now? Having to look at a physical reminder that Savvy is promised to somebody else when she belongs with me? Fucking hell, I don’t know if I can do it.
I’m nearing my breaking point.
I don’t know how long I’ve been outside, but I complete a full lap through the flower beds and around the greenhouse before I feel calm enough to return without losing my shit and costing me my future.
I feel like a creep slinking around corners and hugging the wall as I approach the arc of light streaming out from the den through the French doors.
I keep my steps quiet, sure the security staff is getting a good laugh at how I’m peering through the glass.
The first thing I notice is the absence of adults. Good.
Then my blood turns hot, and my vision tinges with red.
Well, isn’t that precious.
When I left, neither Savvy nor Duke seemed to be faring any better than me. Now? They look like the picture-perfect couple, a regular Barbie and Ken, if Barbie dyed her hair silver and Ken was a backstabbing motherfucker.
How is it Savvy can laugh with Duke after what happened? She was so distraught over the idea of being engaged to Duke she had a fucking asthma attack when she was first told. You’re trying to tell me she’s okay with it now? Have I read her completely wrong? Is she just like all the other bitches at BA, easily distracted by trinkets and baubles? A childhood engagement is fine as long as there’s a huge-ass rock that comes with it?
No way. I refuse to believe any of that is true.
Except…
Why is it that she can laugh with Duke and not me? She’s never been that…carefree with me. Though…I don’t know if I can necessarily classify anything she does as carefree, but that’s the best description I can come up with.
Duke says something that makes Savvy laugh, and she backhands him lightly on the chest. Savvy shifts around on the couch, tucking one leg underneath her while letting the other swing, the toe of her suede bootie skimming the floor with each back-and-forth motion.
When she holds her hand out to inspect the ring before propping her arm on the back of the couch and resting her chin in her hand, I snap.
Am I so easy to forget? Does she think she can cancel me? She’ll learn I’m the most relevant thing in her life.
I banish all thoughts of my father and his threats. It’s time to claim my girl back.
Savvy and Duke jump as I barrel into the room from the outside door.
I don’t pause. There’s zero hesitation as I stalk across the floor. I don’t even know if I shut the door behind me.
“Bro—” Duke tries to garner my attention, or at least I think he does. I couldn’t tell you with any certainty with every atom in my body lasered in on Savvy and nothing else.
“Ja—” I cut off what might have been an unprompted use of my first name by snagging Savvy’s wrist as her arm drops from pushing hair out of her face. With a jerk, I have her off the couch and stumbling into my side.
Clasping my fingers tight around her hand, I drag her with me to the powder room in the back corner of the den. Savvy’s heels click-clack-click-clack across the tile as I swing her inside, slamming the door closed and throwing the lock an instant before caging her against the heavy mahogany.
One hand braced next to her face, I take our linked hands and stretch them above her head. Her breaths are coming fast, not in an asthmatic way, but enough to cause the section of hair obscuring part of her face to flutter.
Pushing my weight onto my hand, I lean forward until my face is directly in front of hers. Those deep purple pools inside her eyes suck me in and momentarily have me losing my train of thought, as does the way her sweet scent teases me. I’ve always had a thing for the way she smells, but there is nothing better than when that simple lime scent is mixed with my own sandalwood.
There’s so much I want to say to her. I want to scream and shout, vent my frustrations, ask any number of questions swirling through my head.
We’ve found ourselves in a precarious situation with multiple parties trying to control us. The controlling aspect is one I’m used to, to the point that I’m practically immune. I’ve known from an early age that my lot in life was to take over a position at my father’s company. It wasn’t until I showed any real promise on the hockey rink that Dad relented to allow my life to take a slightly different path. Hockey first, then after retirement, I take my place by his side.
Though with the way he’s tried to take over, the constant involvement—with Coach, Headmaster Woodbridge, and the scouts at both the collegiate and professional level—takes some of the joy away.
If I didn’t know I was destined to be out on the ice pursuing a career in hockey, I would have quit years ago instead of putting up with Dad’s demands.
Now he thinks he can threaten to take it all away?
Fuck that and fuck staying away from Savvy.
I tried. Really, truly, I did. But the sight of another man’s ring on her finger broke me.
Speaking of which…
I lift my hand from the door and make a concerted effort to calm some of the fury rolling through me. Keeping my actions slow, I take a moment to brush the silky strands away and tuck them behind her ear, stroking down the shell in a lingering caress.
The mock turtleneck of her dress hits less than an inch below her jawline, and I curse at not being able to see the vein I can feel pulsing on the side of her neck when I skim my fingers down it. Continuing my downward trajectory, I follow each circle crocheted into the detailing along her collarbone, over the curve of her shoulder, and down her arm like they’re spaces on a game board.
I keep expecting her to fight, but it’s like she’s frozen in place, trying to anticipate my next move.
When I finally reach her hand, her fingers contract as if to hold mine, but that’s not my goal.
Instead, I feel around for her fourth finger, my own pinching the metal band encircling it when I do. In less than a blink, I have it ripped off her and tossed behind me, not giving one shit as it bounces across the floor.
Savvy gasps and shifts to look around me, but I block her by hammering my fist to the door again. “I need that.” She tries to move away again, but I stretch the arm I have pinned higher above her head.
“No, you don’t,” I growl, barely resisting walking away from her to stomp the ring into something unrecognizable.
I only got a glimpse of it, and still, it feels seared into my memory, as is how I sat there like a chump as she received it without a thought to me.
“I don’t like feeling ignored, Princess.” I run the tip of my nose along her jaw, reveling in the tiny gasped moan she emits.
Above her head, her fingers flex in mine, but I don’t let go. “What did you expect me to do?”
“Say no.” Is it really such an unfair ask?
Her chin drops in defeat. “I couldn’t.”
That’s where she’s wrong. “Why the fuck not?” I snap. She’s not the one whose future is at risk here.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Again”—I bend, nudging the fabric of her dress down and drag my piercing along the column of her throat—“why the fuck not?”
“Because…” She trembles. It’s the tiniest vibration in her limbs, but I feel it regardless.
“Because why, Princess?” I nip her skin.
“Because Duke is my fiancé.”
She did not just say that. My fingers curl, doing their best to dig into the door. No one, no-fucking-one gets to have any sort of claim on her but me.
“You know as well as I do that title is complete bullshit.” I shove back and glare down at her.
“You’re entitled to your opinion.” The utter nonchalance she uses to tell me this sets fire to every one of my nerves.
“My opinion?” I grunt.
She flicks her gaze from my mouth to my eyes and nods. “Yeah…you know…a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge.”
Is this bitch really trying to give me a vocabulary lesson right now?
“You want facts?” I ask, kicking her feet apart and stepping between them. “I’ll give you fucking facts.”
I abandon the door and curl my hand around her nape, lifting her until she’s forced onto her toes, and I seal my mouth over hers in a punishing kiss, taking out all my frustrations on her.
Being told she’s not mine when she is.
Being threatened to stay away.
Having the world think she belongs to my best friend when she’s. Fucking. Mine.
Watching her accept Duke’s ring.
Having her do a complete one-eighty on the whole engagement in the first place.
Every press of my lips, every stroke of my tongue, every whirl of my piercing, every bite of my teeth doles out a punishment.
When I finally release her mouth, we’re both breathing like we did blue line drills, chests heaving, the hard buds of her nipples poking me through our clothes.
“How’s that for fact, Princess?” I challenge, taking in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and the mild beard burn surrounding them from the stubble I’m sporting.
“Congratulations, Noble. You proved you know how to kiss, but I already knew that much.”
I punch the door an inch from her head, but she doesn’t so much as flinch. Her jaw is hard, her violet eyes watching me with disinterest despite the blown-out pupils.
“Will you chill? No need to get pretzeled,” she tells me. “It was just a kiss.”
Just a kiss? Is she for real?
“There was nothing just about that, Princess. That shit was straight fire.”
Savvy doesn’t say anything as she keeps her gaze locked on the space above my shoulder.
I skim my hand down her side, spreading my fingers as I take in the contours of her curves past the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips until I come to the hem of her skirt and slip underneath, only to groan when I’m met with bare skin.
Fuck me, she’s wearing a thong.
Grabbing the thin strip of material bisecting the round globes of her ass cheeks, I give it a yank. It’s a goddamn miracle the fabric doesn’t rip from the force. I relish the hiss coming from Savvy’s mouth as it tugs against her puckered hole and the way she instinctively rises onto her toes again to counter the pressure.
Releasing her panties, I smooth my hand over the curve of her ass, spreading her cheeks and thrusting a thumb into her asshole without warning or finesse.
I cup her from behind, her center slick when my fingers slide inside.
“Is this just finger fucking?” Savvy’s whimper is music to my ears. “Is your pussy wet just because?”
“Noble.” She bites back a cry, and I watch her start to fall, head falling back, eyes closing, lips parting as I work her.
“Your cunt isn’t greedy for just anyone.” I feel those telltale ripples, and instead of making her give in and say my name to get an orgasm, I scissor the fingers inside her pussy and circle the thumb inside her ass, pushing her over the edge.
I steal just another kiss to swallow down her screams of pleasure, and her body quakes from the strength of her release.
I slow my ministrations as she comes down but don’t remove my fingers from inside her. My dick feels like it’s about the break off it’s so hard, but there’s no time for him to get his. Besides, getting off wasn’t the point. This was about proving something.
“Me,” I say, pulling back once again. “It’s only me your body wants. It doesn’t matter whose ring you wear—that fact will never change.” I thrust and pull back again. “And do you know why?”
I push deeper one more time before finally leaving the confines of her body and watch her sag back against the door. Her forehead wrinkles as she tries to marshal her thoughts.
“It’s because you’re mine, Savvy.” Her eyes flare wide at the use of her name. “This”—I bring a hand to her mouth—“may lie to me.” I drag my forefinger over her lip, smearing it with her pussy juices. “But the rest of your body can’t.”
I give her the chance to deny it, but the denial never comes.
“Make no mistake, Princess…” I lick her mouth, savoring the taste of all her flavors combining. “I will use it and anything else I have to until you can admit who you really belong to.”
It’s a bold claim, one I’m not exactly sure how I’ll enact. More obstacles are standing in our way than ever before, but I’ll be damned if they win.