Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent



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.