Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) by Rina Kent

“No.”

Something squeezes in my chest. I don’t know why I thought he’d show a bit of remorse.

There’s no remorse in an unfeeling monster.

I stand and throw the napkin at his chest. “Thank you for the clarifications. Have a shitty day.”

He clutches my wrist and pulls me down so fast, so hard, I yelp as I fall back down on something warm.

His lap.

I’m sitting on his lap.

My heartbeat picks up at being this close. So close that we breathe the same air. So close that I feel every ripple in his strong, hard thighs underneath me. So close that I can almost hear the pulse in my ears.

His face is a few inches away from mine that our noses nearly touch. His arm wraps around my waist in a steely, almost painful hold, and his eyes zero in on my lips as he speaks, “Did I say you can leave?”

It takes everything in me to ignore his proximity. I concentrate on his face despite the urge to look at his lips.

“I’m trying to understand, Aiden, I really am, but it’s impossible. You made my life hell for two years and now you want to get close to me without as much as an apology? Do you think I’ll forget about all that torment just because of your majesty’s presence?”

He continues feasting on my lips with his gaze. “Do you think you have a choice, sweetheart?”

“Every time I look at you, I remember when I was locked in the showers for five hours until Kim found me. I remember someone stealing my track clothes and feigning a headache to not practice that day. I remember being tripped in the cafeteria the first day I stepped in there and having pasta and juice all over my clothes, face, and hair. I remember being called a Teacher Slut and accused of sleeping with them. I remember being hated for being me!”

I’m panting after my outburst, my heart almost leaping out of my throat. I never thought there’d be a day I’d give Aiden a piece of my mind.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t even miss a beat.

“You don’t mean that.”

His nonchalant, fake apology hurts more than the lack of it.

“You said you wanted an apology, not that I should mean it. Besides…” His fingers skim down my throat and to my pulse point before he wraps his hand around my neck. The gesture is gentle, almost caring if it weren’t for the immediate danger of suffocation like the other time. “You wronged me first.”

“What?”

The waitress returns with our orders. She stands a small distance away, watching us with unfazed attention. I scramble away from Aiden’s lap, my cheeks flaring.

Aiden lets me go with a smirk.

For God’s sake, can’t he see we’re in our school uniforms? There’s a rule somewhere about not sullying RES’s top-notch reputation.

After the waitress leaves, I dig into the low carb muffins and tomato omelette.

I’ve been starving since the morning. If he’s buying, I’m eating. Food has nothing to do with my animosity with the devil.

Said devil doesn’t touch his food and watches me silently like a creep.

I lift my head and give him a questioning look.

He removes his jacket, places it on the edge of the chair and rolls the cuffs of his shirt to near his elbows, revealing strong veiny arms and… tattoos.

He has tattoos at the underside of his forearm.

It’s a simple two black arrows pointing in opposing directions. I lean closer to watch the direction of the tattoos.

That’s when I notice it.

Near his elbow, there’s a faded scar at which one of the arrows points.

His movements are meticulous as he cuts his eggs and takes a bite.

I motion at the tattoo. “Is there a meaning?”

His dark eyes meet mine and I’m transfixed by their depth. It’s like someone pushed him into an impenetrable fog and he’s unable to get out. “Some scars are better left hidden.”

“Like what?” I ask slowly.

“Like your scar. You hide it so well, don’t you, Frozen?”

I stab my omelette and cut eye contact.

“Ah. So you like talking about me, but when the subject turns to little miss Frozen, it becomes a red line. Do you realise how double standard that is?”

“Stop twisting everything to fit you.”

“The answer is no.”

“Do you get off on it?”

“On what?”

“On being this infuriatingly in control.”

“Perhaps.”

My lips twist. “Has there ever been something out of your control before?”

“Twice.” He hums. “And you’re the third.”

I pause drinking from my orange juice, my voice slow. “How?”

“Be mine.”

I choke on my juice, droplets splattering from my nose and all over the table.

Aiden chuckles, offering me a napkin. “Jesus. I didn’t ask for your firstborn.”

“This is worse.” I stare at him as I wipe the mess on my face. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Have I ever joked with you?”

“You know that my answer will be no, right?”

“No is a start, sweetheart.”

I gulp.

“Besides…” He places a hand on my thigh, his fingers trailing up. “Your mouth is a liar. I’m taking my answer from something that doesn’t lie.”