Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

With my hands bound against my back, Levi rams deeper and harder into me until I can barely breathe or think.

Everything fills with his scent and his presence. A maddening buildup starts at my core and spreads all over my body like hellfire.

I can’t breathe or think straight.

“Fuck, Astrid. You’re so fucking tight.” Thrust. “And beautiful.” Thrust. “And driving me fucking insane.”

The sensation swipes over me like a hurricane. This orgasm is so different from all the other ones he gave me with his mouth. This one unravels me from the inside. I can’t even think or breathe. I can only scream his name like he told me I would.

I almost blackout, but I’m brought back to the moment as Levi’s back turns rigid. His Viking hair sticks to his temple with sweat and all his muscles become taut. He comes with a groan, squeezing me into him.

And then, his mouth is back to devouring mine.

Best. Birthday. Ever.





36





Levi





You should know by now that I don’t play fair.



* * *



The bed is empty.

It smells of lilac and sex, but there’s no sign of Astrid.

I curse as I jump to my feet, blindingly shoving my legs into the trousers lying on the floor.

It’s six in the morning and we’re in the middle of nowhere. She can’t reach civilisation unless she has a ride.

Judging from the rain beating down outside, she couldn’t have gone far.

After last night, I thought she was too sore to move.

But apparently, I thought fucking wrong.

I shouldn’t have unbound her. Better yet, I should’ve tied her to me when I gathered her in my arms.

I never slept with a girl after sex.

I never slept with anyone. Full stop.

Since I lost Dad, I’ve had insomnia. That’s why I started drinking — aside from pissing Uncle off. When I’m hammered, I manage a few hours of sleep. But I had to take it down a notch when I focused on football.

Most nights, I’d stare at the ceiling or wear myself out in the gym.

Last night was different. Last night, I had a petite thing sleeping in my arms like a baby.

I might have spent the entire night watching her. Sue me.

Every line of her face and curve of her body is engraved in my memories. As I watched her, lots of dark thoughts barged through my mind, but most of all, it was unstoppable waves of possessiveness.

She only belongs to me now and no one will be able to take her away.

Ever.

I might not know how the fuck Astrid fits in the big picture, but I know that she’s mine. I know that I’ll feed off everything she offers like the parasite she paints me as.

I don’t bother with a shirt as I snag my car keys and fly down the stairs.

It’s fucking pouring outside. The rain falls so hard that the distance becomes foggy and the vision blurry.

Right in front of the house, Astrid stands in the middle of the rain.

Eyes closed, her head is tipped back allowing the rain to soak her face. Both her arms are wide open on either side of her like she’s an angel about to fly.

I freeze, watching her do exactly what I showed her last time I brought her here.

Her dress sticks to her skin and rivulets form a path from her wet hair to her neck.

I drop the car keys on the porch and stride towards her. The rain beats down on me, soaking me in a second.

She doesn’t feel me when I’m right behind her, watching the hickeys I left all over her neck and nape. The angry red marks against her pale skin elicit a primal reaction in me.

I licked her so she’s mine.

My arms wrap around her waist from behind and I bury my head in her wet neck.

She inhales a stuttering breath as her hand comes around my connected hands whether to push me away or keep me there, I don’t know.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask near her ear, drawing a shudder from her.

“I was leaving.”

My jaw clenches. “Why?”

“Because…” She trails off but doesn’t look at me. “It was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Says who?” I growl at her ear.

“Says me.” She tips her head back to stare at me. “I don’t know what the hell you want from me and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Good.” I nibble on the lobe of her ear, tasting her and the rain. “You drive me fucking crazy, too.”

She turns around in my hold, placing both palms on my chest. “Do you ever intend on stopping?”

“Never, princess.” I pause. “You said you were leaving, why didn’t you?”

“It was raining.”

“That’s all?”

“You know, it was pouring the day I lost my mum. Since then, I’ve hated rainy days. Until...” She glances at me with a strange vulnerability. “You showed me how to enjoy it again. Thank you.”

No. Thank you, Dad.

I run my fingers through her wet hair, pushing the wet strands off her face. “So you owe me one, huh?”

She hits my chest. “You just needed to turn the situation in your favour, didn’t you?”

“What did you expect?”

“Fine, what do I owe you?”

“Your sketchpad.”

“No,” she says defensively, her cheeks flushing even under the rain.