Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

I glare at the phone as if I can wrench him out of it and punch him in the face.

Ronan: Also, your scratch still hurts. Want to come kiss it better?

Teal: I should’ve scratched you harder.

I curse myself as I hit Send. Why the hell am I even indulging him? I broke so many of my patterns today, and it’s all because of him. I should stay the hell away from him to avoid any other disaster.

Ronan: Pain. Yum.

My legs clench, and the orgasm from earlier feels like it’s rising to the surface all over again. Just how can he elicit this reaction from me?

But if he thinks he can get me out of my element and receive no retaliation, he has another thing coming.

Teal: You’re not my type.

Get over yourself.

Ronan: And what’s your type, ma belle?

Teal: My type is at least fifteen years older, experienced, and doesn’t smile the entire time like a gigolo on crack. In short, not you.

I feel a weight slide off my chest as I send that text. I needed to remind myself of that fact as much as letting him know, because that’s what’s bothering me about the whole thing — the fact that he, someone not even close to being my type, is invading my thoughts this much.

There’s a long pause before he sends his next text.

Ronan: And yet you came when I only touched your tits.

Teal: That’s because I didn’t know it was you.

Ronan: Is that why your arousal still coats my stomach?

My cheeks heat and I curse him all the ways to Sunday.

Ronan: It’s all dried up, but it’s there. You saw it on that IG pic. I’m not washing it off.

Teal: You’re sick.

Ronan: I like to think I’m not sicker than you, ma belle, but I love the competition.

Ronan: Cancel the engagement and I might fuck you.

I might fuck you? Might? As in he’s gracing me with his damn cock? The arrogance of this bastard.

Teal: As if I would ever want to fuck you.

Ronan: I think we should both agree that you did tonight.

Teal: I did not.

Ronan: Sure. Whatever helps you sleep better at night.

I can almost imagine his smirk, and I want to smash his face and this stupid feeling of embarrassment with it.

Ronan: Night, ma belle. I’ll dream of your orgasm face.

I throw my phone to the side, seething, my heart beating so hard it’s nearly dangerous.

He thinks it’s fine to play with me? He’ll see what playing means.