Chapter 7: Vicious Prince: Chapter 7

I never thought there would be a day when I’d consider Teal beautiful.

She did have some sort of external beauty. Elsa calls her snow white with her tiny features, porcelain skin, and naturally red lips, but it was never quite it, you know. It’s not the type that grabs you by the gut — or rather by the dick — and refuses to let go.

As she kneels in front of me, half-naked, her gown bunching around her waist and her huge black eyes staring up at me, I see it.

Her beauty.

It’s a special type, the kind you not only want to stare at but also want to trap somewhere so you’re the only one who sees it. It’s kind of sick, but it fits her.

Everything about her is beautiful, from the flushing of her cheeks, the parting of her lips, and the slight perspiration covering her pale skin to the erratic rise and fall of her chest that causes her generous tits to push further into my hands.

Her pale pink nipples are red from my ministrations, and I still can’t let them go. My dick strains against the sorry excuse for trousers, and I inhale a deep breath while taking in her confusion mixed with the scent of her arousal.

Well, fuck.

I’ve fucked more girls than I could count, and none of them — absolutely none — had this effect on my dick.

Ron Astor the Second is ready to rip someone in half, and not just anyone.

Her.

The girl who orgasmed by just nipple play. The girl who appears like a robot but is actually turned on by a simple blindfold and the teasing of her nipples.

When Cole mentioned this place, I almost didn’t believe him. Teal might appear like a goth with a tendency of calling out Satan in night-time rituals, but she’s Ethan’s good girl. After all, she wanted the engagement for his sake.

Surely she wouldn’t be in a place that’s fit for Cole’s defective brain. But then, sure enough, I saw her.

Here. Wearing a black gown and waiting to be devoured.

Since Cole’s family owns this business of debauchery, and he’s the one who accepted her application so soon, it didn’t take me long to not only become a member but to also have her as my first meal.

Teal Van Doren is more than what meets the eye, indeed. I didn’t know I needed to read her fantasies until I had them on paper in front of me.

All laid out for my pleasure reading.

I begrudgingly release one of her swollen nipples and continue tracing the other as I reach into my pocket and retrieve my phone.

“Say cheese.” I snap a picture of her dazed, flushed state.

That manages to snap her out of her stupor. Teal pushes back so abruptly she nearly falls over.

To my dismay, I lose all feel of her nipple as she rises to her shaking feet. Her tits bounce with the motion, giving me one last view before she pulls up the straps of her gown, covering them and herself.

Hiding those beauties is a tragedy that needs to be mourned.

She runs a hand through her straight hair. To her credit, she does regain her composure and adopts her haughty default state, but it’s not soon enough to hide the slight tremble in her fingers or the goosebumps covering her arms.

No one can hide involuntary bodily reactions — not even with her level of emotional blankness.

I rattled her. One point for me.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Being debauched like you.” I grin. “Actually, I’m the one doing the debauchery, but details.”

“Phones aren’t allowed h-here.” She bites her lower lip, trapping it against her teeth as if reprimanding herself for stuttering.

And suddenly, a thought I never had becomes my sole purpose in life. I want my teeth on that lip. I want to lick it, bite it, then devour it.

But that’s kind of a wrong thought, isn’t it?

It’s probably this place and her earlier state; they’re playing with my fucking head.

As if you never knew you had this in you?

Shush, thoughts.

“I guess I kind of snuck it in.” I lift a shoulder as if saying ‘Oops’. “You’re really special, though, aren’t you, ma belle? Nipple orgasm is so hot.”

“Fuck you.” Her cheeks flush, but it’s not entirely embarrassment; there’s also a hint of rage.

I grin.

It’s the first show of emotions she’s ever given up. Anger is good; anger makes people commit mistakes. That’s why I make sure I’m rarely angry, if ever. I might feign it, but I always stay the fuck away from it.

Anger is the source of all evil.

Teal here is ashamed of her orgasm — or rather the one who caused her pleasure. Since she can’t say that out loud because it’d mean admitting it, the pent-up frustration is turning into what resembles rage.

“I’m happy to oblige, ma belle. I can come up with other types of orgasms we can try out.” Lie — I don’t need to come up with them. My perverted head has been filled with them since the moment I walked in here and saw her kneeling on the floor.

“But first,” I continue, “I need you to tell your daddy and my daddy that you’re calling off the engagement.”

“That won’t happen.”

I scroll through my phone, feigning a sigh. “Then I guess Ethan can see what places his daughter frequents. Are you sure you want to scar him with the image of your tits? Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful tits, but they’re not fit for your dad. Unless…you have a daddy kink?”

She gulps audibly, her delicate throat moving with the motion. One day, I don’t know when, but I’m going to grab her by that throat and fuck the living shit out of her until she can’t move.

Okay. That was too explicit even for my perverted brain.

“Besides,” I continue. “I assure you, Earl Edric Astor wouldn’t approve of a daughter-in-law who likes to be treated like a slut. Since I’m a gentleman, I’m giving you the chance to walk out of this unscathed. We both get what we want. Win-win.”

We stare at each other for a second. I watch her body language for a sign. Her chest that used to rise and fall heavily is now serene, calm almost.

Good. She learnt her place.

Just then, she pounces on me. No kidding — she jumps at me like a flying animal, her legs wrapping around my waist as she lunges straight at the phone in my hand.

Well, fuck me.

Out of all the reactions I expected from her, this was the last. Fuck, it wasn’t even on the list. She didn’t let her height keep her down when she made the decision to come at me.

A fighter.

Why the hell do I want to break that or somehow engross myself in it?

Her face reddens as her gown bunches up her thighs in her struggle to reach my hand. Even by using my body as some sort of a ladder, she can’t reach the phone.

I keep it up. When she thinks she’s got it, I throw it to the other hand, making her cheeks redden more, her chest rising more. Her breathing turns harsh, causing her tits to strain against my bare chest.

When she realises she can’t reach it, she scratches my arm with her black-painted nails. The sting burns my skin and I react immediately, slamming her back against the wall.

A yelp escapes her throat, but before she can react, I grab both her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head, securing them with a hand.

Now, I have a tiny frame wrapping her legs around my waist, her chest against mine, and her arms are confined.

At my mercy.

Or the lack thereof.

“Let me go,” she hisses, but her gaze follows my hand that’s clutching the phone as I let it fall to my side.

I motion at the angry red scratch marks on my forearm. It’s like I’ve been attacked by a kitten — a small, furious kitten.

“You hurt me,” I say with a dispassionate tone.

“You want a prize for that?” She strains, trying to get free, but I’m pinning her so thoroughly she’s barely able to move.

“No. I’m more interested in justice. You hurt me, so I should hurt you back, don’t you think?”

To her credit, she tries to hide it, but her eyes widen the slightest bit, and to my fucking surprise, it’s not out of fear.

A spark just passed through the dim colour of her eyes, almost like a shooting star in a moonless night. It disappears as soon as it appears.

Well, well, well.

Looks like Teal Van Doren has perfect control over her expression. But there’s something she’s not quite successful at controlling — something that permeates the air with a musky, distinctive smell.

“Are you turned on by the prospect of being hurt, ma belle?” I smirk, drawing out the words slowly.

“You wish.”

“You did come by nipple pain just now. Does the thought of pain make you soaked?”

She purses her lips but says nothing to deny or to confirm.

“You know.” I slide my phone into the pocket of my trousers and reach my fingers to lift her chin.

Her lips are pink, full, and have this heart shape that could use some devouring or could be wrapped around Ron Astor the Second — I’m not picky.

She glares at me as if she wishes she could bite my eye out with her teeth. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a bit crazy, and fuck me, it’s starting to grow on me.

“You don’t have to hide it. I can feel your arousal on my stomach and smell it in the fucking air.”

She clenches her thighs then loosens them with the intent to come down. I slam her against the wall again.

The moment she gasps, I crush my lips to hers. She tastes like…madness, the type you can never get away from or with. It’s the type that gets under your skin, and soon enough, you don’t know whether you’re losing your sanity or your life.

Her lips tremble as if she doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. Her tongue moves tentatively against mine before it stops. She doesn’t kiss me back, but I don’t allow her the chance to.

For the first time in my life, I fucking feast on someone. Using my grip on her jaw, I squeeze it open so I can claim her tongue, bite it with my teeth, suck it with my lips. I steal her breath and her damn sanity just like she’s been doing with me.

She stirred up my ugly side, and now she has to become its target.

I, Ronan Astor, the most attentive lover you could ever find, want to break someone — but not just anyone.

Her.

I want to smash her tiny body against mine until she can never find an escape. And I want her to enjoy every second of it.

Tiny teeth latch onto my lower lip then bite — hard. Both of us taste the strong metal as she shoves away from me.

In her attempts to pull away, she stumbles to her unsteady feet. I expect her to fight me, to curse me, but she simply stares at my lips, at the blood she left there, as if she can’t look away. Then she wipes the blood off hers, still not breaking eye contact with my lips.

It’s like she’s in a trance and can’t break free.

Seeming to realise that, she turns around, and as I warned her she would, she runs.

It’s useless, though. She can’t run away anymore.

Different times. Different circumstances.

They say you should find what you love and keep it close.

The same can be said about what you hate.