Wicked Royals (Elites of Macedon High 1)

Alexandra.

“Come inside me,” the maid begs.

I shake my head, grabbing a chunk of her hair and yanking so hard I hear it rip at the roots. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

Stars dance in my vision as I come inside her, bucking frantically until my balls are emptied and my limbs are numb. Pulling my cock out from the maid’s used cunt reveals my mess, the thick and sticky fluid dribbling to the tile floor in quick splashes.

“Parker, can I—?”

I grab her throat and drag her from the shower, cum leaking from her thighs and staining the ground as I toss her out into the hallway. “I said, shut up.”

The wood of the door splinters when I slam it.

And I hope to high fucking heaven that my father heard that.

***

Hypnotizing vaporwave pours through the speakers of Soren’s BMW i8, a sleek sports car painted chrome pumpkin orange with spinning silver hub caps. Night drapes over the car like a dark cape; the only light for miles are the headlights illuminating the road ahead and the bluish teal light glowing from the dashboard. Soren lounges in the driver’s seat, hand expertly popping the manual gear shift as he maneuvers down the winding road leading to the docks.

The rhythmic rumble of the wheels on the road and the vaporwave infecting my ears lull me into a mesmerized state as I hold up my phone, staring at the white screen that hosts Tabitha’s message thread with me.

“Whatever,” I grumble as my thumbs dance across the screen. “Bye, bitch.”

“Already? We haven’t even gotten there.” Soren flashes me his shit-eating grin, the same one that signals mischief. “Breaking up with Tabitha, I see.”

“Yep.”

He snorts. “According to Daddy’s wishes, huh?”

I jab his upper arm, causing him to fumble the wheel and lurch into the opposite lane. A car horn blares as he rights the wheel while cursing profusely. We’re alone for fucking miles and suddenly there’s traffic? That’s fucking stupid.

“Dammit, Parker,” he hisses. “This car is brand new. Do you want me to crash?”

I don’t respond as I twirl my phone between my fingers.

“You’re so sensitive,” he teases as he resumes his lounging pose. “I give you three days before you crawl back to that pussy.”

“Not a fucking chance.” I tuck my phone into the pocket of my navy blue jeans and play with the fabric of my white Polo shirt. “Not even if it was the last pussy on earth.”

He hums curiously as he speeds up around a sharp curve. The car tips slightly and I roll my eyes.

What a fucking lunatic.

“This car is brand new,” I taunt. And then I add, “I need booze.”

“Mood.”

The car slows about five miles per hour as we approach another curve in the road. Soren is an excellent driver, probably one of the best I’ve ever met. He would never put his precious car in danger. He’s too careful for that.

“So,” I sigh as I ignore the incessant pinging of my phone. That must be Tabitha. Sounds like she might be mad. “How did it feel to have Alex slobbering on your knob?”

“Like a goddamn dream.”

My eyes imbibe the countryside outside the window, the moon glaring bright in the sky. “Those fucking tits are amazing.”

“All that long black hair could come in handy.”

I make a crude stroking gesture toward him. “Right, handy.”