Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) by Rina Kent

“You were a ghost.”





Chapter Twenty-Two





A ghost?

I was a ghost?

My head tilts back against Aiden’s chest as I study his features, searching to see if he’s joking or screwing with my head.

I should’ve known better since he doesn’t joke. At least not in this sense. His jaw is tightened and his thick lashes frame a darkened look.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I try to appear calm, but my pulse rises with every second until I’m afraid he can hear it.

“You’re not ready for what it means, Frozen.”

The fact that he’s using that damned nickname can only mean that he’s putting me at a distance.

Aiden isn’t exactly the closed-off type. He’s not ashamed to admit to all the fuckery in his head.

However, I’m not foolish to believe that he’d bare his soul to me that easily. He keeps a fraction of himself hidden behind the walls of his fortress.

Maybe I can’t escape his chessboard after all. One has to be in the battalion so they can take down the king.

“I don’t like it when you call me that,” I say, wiggling away from his hold.

“Call you what?”

“Frozen. I’m not frozen.”

“Hmm, but you are.” He pats his chest. “You’re so frozen, it kind of stings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Aiden flips me underneath him and rips the sheet from around me. Shivers break all over my arms as the air hits my skin.

His ferocious gaze dips to my nakedness as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

My heart hammers so loud, it’s painful.

There’s something about the way he watches me.

A possessiveness.

An obsession.

A… madness.

I hate how my body reacts to this unhinged side of him. Aren’t all girls supposed to be attracted to the white knight? Prince charming? Why the hell am I gravitating towards the villain?

I ignore the pool of heat gathering between my thighs, pull at the sheet, and drape it around my torso.

Aiden’s stormy eyes pierce through my soul as his fingers tug on the sheet. “Don’t cover yourself from me.”

“We’re talking.” I hold the piece of cloth with all my might. “You can’t just shut me off for sex.”

“Watch me.” He rips the corner of the sheet.

I gasp and roll away from underneath him, taking the sheet with me. Aiden wrestles me back. I push at him. Lust, hate, the need to win rush through my limbs. I love fighting Aiden. Judging from the wetness coating my thighs, maybe I love it a bit too much.

It doesn’t help that Aiden’s eyes are gleaming with too much pleasure. He loves the fight, too.

We wrestle for minutes or hours, I don’t know. My lungs are heaving and I’m sweating. Nothing changes in Aiden’s posture except for that spark in his eyes. Either he has impressive stamina or I’m just not that strong.

I pull myself on four and try to crawl away from his caveman clutches. He grips me by the ankle and yanks me back. I lie flat on my stomach, almost my entire back is bared.

Aiden crawls atop of me, his slick hard chest covers my back and he imprisons both my wrists above my head on the mattress.

He’s panting in my ear, his breaths making my eyes flutter closed. Being dominated by him pulls on my unhidden strings.

An urge.

A need.

A deprivation.

“Do you still want to fight, sweetheart?” he murmurs in my ear, his voice dropping to a chilling range. “Or would you rather I make you scream?”

He rolls his hips and a thick, hard bulge settles against the crack of my arse.

I don’t know if he’s hard because we fought or at the promise that he’ll make me scream.

Or both.

He’s sick. Absolutely, utterly sick.

Apparently, I’m sick, too, because my core is slick with arousal.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His hot breaths tickle my earlobe as he bites down. “Don’t tempt me into fucking yours, sweetheart.”

I gasp then go rigid when his fingers spread my arse cheeks.

What… is he doing?

He presses a calloused thumb against my back hole. “Hmm, this looks virgin to me.”

“A-Aiden… stop.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you here… yet.” He pushes the tip of his thumb, and I stiffen. “But when it’s time, you’ll let me, won’t you?”

He can’t talk about fucking my arse when I don’t even know what it feels to have proper sex.

“Or would you rather I take it, too?” He runs his erection up and down my slick folds while teasing my other hole.

Holy…

Why does this feel so… good?

Not only his touch, but also his entire presence at my back. The way he touches me feels like he knew my body for decades.

Like he owned my body for decades.

There’s something about his absolute confidence that reduces me to a mere marionette in his hands.

“I’ll own every one of your holes… eventually.” His finger leaves my arse to slide down to my soaked folds. “But I’m starting here. I’ll fuck the memory of anyone else out of you.”

The onslaught of his words is like having his tongue licking me in that delirious, maddening pace.