Twisted Kingdom (Royal Elite #3) by Rina Kent

My heart does that flip-flopping thing like it’s having a crush on Aiden all over again.

Aren’t we over that phase already, heart?

Before I can reply, my screen lights up with another text.

Aiden: Did you have another nightmare?

God. He knows me so well. Under normal circumstances, I would be fast asleep at this time.

Elsa: Half-nightmare. Half-dream.

Aiden: Do tell.

Elsa: It was about you.

Aiden: I told you, one day you’ll dream about me like I dream about you. Was it kinky?

Elsa: No.

Aiden: Half-kinky?

Elsa: What does half-kinky even mean?

Aiden: It means I tied you to the bedpost and fucked you for an entire day.

I bite the inside of my cheek, my temperature rising.

Elsa: No. It wasn’t like that.

Aiden: It wasn’t, huh? Funny because that’s what I dreamt about. We need to synchronise our dreams.

I suppress a smile. What type of magic does Aiden possess to make me feel better even through texts?

Elsa: If I ask you to tell me about the past, will you?

I expect him to think about it, to tell me I’m not ready, but the reply is immediate.

Aiden: Whenever you wish.

A stuttering breath heaves out of me. The type of breath which lifts some weight off my chest. Not all the weight, but the relief is there, as tiny as it is.

Elsa: Thank you.

Aiden: Don’t thank me until you know all the facts.

My hand turns clammy around the phone. In the back of my mind, there’s a giant box titled The Truth Isn’t Easy, but his words magnify that box, it’s becoming wider and bigger than what my head can contain.

Dad and I talked about my missing memories, alone and with Dr Khan. My shrink recommended that I remember it on my own without hearing retellings, and Dad complied.

The truth is a sneaky thing. Like a witch, it demands a high price before setting you free.

Life as I know it can go up in smoke — including my relationship with Dad and Aiden.

I squash that scary thought and type the question I’ve been asking since he left.

Elsa: When are you coming back?

Aiden: Less than a week.

Aiden: Why? Do you miss me?

I don’t even think as I type. I don’t listen to my paranoia anymore. Denying my feelings for Aiden only destroyed me from the inside.

Elsa: I do.

The phone brightens up with his name and the picture of our first kiss.

Shit.

I didn’t think he’d call.

Clearing my throat, I answer, “Hey.”

“Say it. I need to hear it.” The raspiness in his tone sends tingles racing down my spine. That voice is made to say dirty, authoritative things.

“Say what?”

“That you miss me.”

“I miss you.” My voice is low, sultry. I didn’t even know I had that range.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m hard.”

A wave of longing grips me by the throat. It tingles at the bottom of my stomach, pooling there. “You are?”

“Fuck right, I am.” His growl is rough, animalistic even.

God. I love his voice when he lets his real self shine through.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Elsa.”

“How crazy?” I ask because I can’t help myself.

“Crazy enough to jerk off in the bathroom when I should be downstairs.”

My cheeks heat as if they’ve been set on fire. My entire body is.

The desire in Aiden’s voice is contagious. It’s the type that grips you by the neck and never leaves.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Let me hear your voice.” He pauses. “Scratch that. Touch yourself as if I’m there with you.”

My free hand is already travelling under my shirt, caressing the soft skin of my breasts. They’re heavy, aching.

“How do you want me to touch myself?” I ask.

“Remove your clothes.” His raspy order travels through my ear and hits me straight in my core. “Do it slowly as if I’m watching.”

Manoeuvring the phone between my shoulder and ear, I push down my cotton shorts. Despite their soft material, they create maddening friction across my heated skin.

I place the phone on the pillow and drag the T-shirt over my head, letting it fall beside me.

The cool air in the room creates goosebumps that cover my burning flesh. My nipples pucker, straining, demanding to be touched.

“Done,” I murmur as I hold the phone again.

A groan cuts through the other line. “Are your nipples hard?”

“Yes. T-they...”

“They what?” I can almost imagine the tightening of his jaw.

“They hurt.”

“They hurt, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do they hurt, sweetheart?”

“Because they want your hands on them,” I blurt out, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Touch them as I do.” So much authority. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.

I wrap my thumb and forefinger around one nipple and squeeze. A whimper slips from between my lips.

“That’s not how I touch you,” he grunts.

“N-no?”

“No. Pinch them savagely as I would.”

Suppressing a moan, I squeeze my sensitive nipple harder, torturing it as if Aiden’s doing it.

I imagine him here with me, his lips wrapped around my other nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth. He nibbles on the perky bud sending tingles straight between my legs.