Steel Princess (Royal Elite #2) by Rina Kent

But I don’t tell him that and huff instead.

“Get in the car.” He points at his Ferrari. “We don’t have all day.”

An idea comes to mind. I lift my head. “I won’t get into the same seat Silver used. Who knows what she left in there?”

“Your jealousy is showing.”

“What? No.” It was meant as a jab so he’d give up trying to get me into his car. It wasn’t meant to show that I care about whoever he let ride in my seat.

“I know you’re possessive of me.” He steps closer like a predator. “Not as much as I’m possessive of you, but it’s close. The only difference is that you’re ashamed about showing it.”

“Stop putting words into my mouth.” I glare at him. “I’m not getting in the car and that’s it.”

He stares at me for one second.

Two.

Three —

He lifts a shoulder and stalks to the driver’s side.

Wait. He’s leaving?

Of course, he is.

What did I expect from someone with his level of conniving evil?

I run to the passenger side and flop inside with a groan. I don’t need to look up to see his smirk. I feel it in my bones.

Dickhead.

The car revs in the streets and I clench my thighs. I’m still sensitive — and stimulated — from the shower. The engine’s vibrations are making it worse.

Or better — depends on how you see it.

“So?” I bite the unease down.

“So what?”

“I’m in the stupid car. What’s the story?”

“I told you.” He glances in my direction. “You have to pay first.”

“Pay for what?”

“Think about it.” He grabs my thigh at the small space where my skirt meets my stocking.

I try to push him away, but he only grips me harder.

After a while of futile struggling, I give up and stare out of the window.

I try not to think of his skin on mine. I try not to feel how his fingers draw maddening circles on my inner thighs.

It’s impossible.

For the entire ride, he appears nonchalant while driving and teasing me.

Someone is good at multi-tasking.

His fingers draw paths over the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh. I squirm in my seat.

Every time I tell him to stop, he just inches his fingers up under my skirt, teasing the edge of my underwear.

I try to remain still and he takes it as approval, letting his finger roam at my folds.

There’s no winning with him.

“Hmm, someone is wet.”

I clamp my lips in a line and try to clench my thighs. He grips me harsher.

The intrusiveness forces a yelp out of me.

His eyes are on the road, but he still wreaks havoc in me.

“Do you want me to finger you, sweetheart?”

I don’t reply.

“I can hit that spot that drives you crazy and make you scream for the entire road to hear.”

“Stop, damn it!” I groan, my face heating with exertion.

His dirty words have always been the death of me.

“Hmm. You should know that the more you say that…” He plunges two fingers inside me in one go. “The harder I will push.”

I cry out, almost toppling over in my seat.

Oh. God.

I don’t know if it’s the position or the way he thrust into me. A wave comes so close, it’s impossible to fight its intensity.

“I missed your tight pussy, sweetheart.” He pounds into me, hitting that hypersensitive spot over and over again.

How the hell does he know my body more than I do?

“See, your pussy knows it belongs to me.” He keeps his eyes on the road as he works me towards the edge of a high cliff.

“Your pussy knows that no one else will give it what I do, but you keep fighting it.”

He presses his thumb against my clit. I gasp and clutch the seatbelt for balance.

I’m close. I’m so, so close, I can taste it in the air.

“Oh… Aiden… oh, please.”

“Hmm. Do you want me to let you come, Elsa?”

I hate myself instantly as I nod. He’s had me under his spell whether I like to admit it or not.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have pissed me off, huh?”

Before I can make meaning of his words, he withdraws his hand, leaving me empty and aching.

I stare at him with widened eyes.

Did the arsehole just abandon me on the verge of an orgasm?

“I told you.” He sucks his fingers — the same fingers that were just inside me — into his mouth. “Payment first.”





15





Elsa





I’m so frustrated and angry that I don’t pay attention to where we’re going.

Yes, I want him to tell me everything. Yes, the dickhead knows my body more than anyone should.

But is that an excuse for my strong reaction to him?

I’m supposed to push him away not pull him in, damn it.

I only come out of my stupor when the car slows to halt in the middle of nowhere.

And I mean the middle of freaking nowhere.

My limbs stiffen.

This isn’t the King’s mansion or somewhere in civilisation.

No.

The place appears deserted without any houses or people in sight. The only sign of human intervention is a dirt road that we must’ve taken to get here.