Home > Cruel King(33)

Cruel King(33)
Author: Rina Kent

He stands at the edge of the pool, already dressed in his three-piece black suit. A hand in his pocket, he has the other holding the phone glued to his ear.

“I’m her father and legal guardian, Commissioner.”

My back snaps in a rigid line. This has to do with my accident.

“She lost her mother in an accident and had a similar one of her own,” Dad speaks in his no-nonsense tone that intimidates me even when I’m not the one on the receiving end. “She will not take the fall of your incompetence.”

Silence.

Long, thick silence.

Dad looks in the distance for a few seconds that might as well seem like an eternity. “The answer is no and that’s final.”

He clicks something on the phone and turns around. I duck and run in the opposite direction towards the pool house’s side door.

Dad stops right in front of the entrance and takes a deep breath, his shoulders drooping as he pinches his eyebrows.

I haven’t seen him do that since I was a little girl. I thought he completely lost that habit.

The moment ends as fast as it came. He straightens like the lord Clifford everyone knows, opens the door and strides inside.

“Sarah, is Astrid down for breakfast?”

Shit.

I sprint towards the back entrance, not looking back.

My head is a jumbled mess as I walk down the street and to the park. My fingers tighten around the backpack’s straps.

Dad’s hiding something that has to do with the police commissioner and my accident.

Astrid will not go through that again.

Go through what?

A finger taps my shoulder, and I yelp. I was too caught in my thoughts to notice someone approach me, let alone walking by my side.

My heart rate returns to normal only to spike up again when I meet those sinister, pale blue eyes.

Sometimes, it’s like they belong to an angel. Other times, it’s like the devil is staring down at me.

This morning, it’s a mixture of both.

I can’t help the spike of my pulse or how heat smothers my skin by just looking at him.

Levi has his golden, Viking hair slicked back today as if he’s out on a fashion show. His team’s royal blue jacket clings to his shoulders like a second skin.

His mouth curves to the side. The same mouth that sucked and nibbled and brought me a pleasure I didn’t realise existed. The same mouth that kissed me like a madman with my taste all over him.

“You’re blushing, princess.” His grin widens.

“I’m not.”

He taps my nose with his index finger. “It’s adorable.”

I step back until he has to drop his hand.

Dammit. A single touch is all it takes for me to crave crawling into his side.

“Why were you blushing? Are there certain memories prickling your mind?”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t that special.” I lower my heating face as soon as I say the words, not wanting him to see my reaction.

“It?” he asks with an amused tone.

“You… know.”

“No. Enlighten me.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

Ugh. He’s infuriating. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“Are you too shy to say I went down on you? That I ate you up like I’ve never eaten anything before? That I licked and bit your hot, wet pussy as you came all over my face and —”

“Stop.” I place both my hands on his mouth, shutting him up.

I’m not that worried about the early runners in the park as much as my stupid body’s reaction to his crude words.

With every word coming out of his mouth, a rush of heat invades me and pools between my thighs.

When the hell did I become so addicted to his dirty talk?

I look on either side of me. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I came for you.”

I came for you.

Just like that. He makes it appear so easy and nonchalant.

“I would’ve gone to your house, but I’m guessing Lord Clifford isn’t a big fan of me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I frown. “How did you know I’d be in this park?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I have my ways.”

Dan. That traitor. I’m supposed to be angry with him for spilling my morning routine, but I don’t have it in me now.

Levi might be a bastard, but he managed to pluck me from the dooming thoughts about Dad and what he’s hiding from me.

“Run with me.” He nudges my shoulder.

“I’m an artist, not an athlete, remember?”

“You don’t have to be an athlete to run.”

“I’m good.” I flop to an empty bench. “Thanks but no thanks.”

I try to imagine he’s not standing right in front of me as I retrieve my sketchbook.

Easier said than done.

His presence always fills the space like a hurricane brewing in the distance.

I pause opening my pad, recalling that my last sketch is from the game. I might have been working on it during the entire weekend.

“Hey,” I meet his assessing eyes. “Did you steal my sketch the other day?”

“What sketch?”

I narrow my eyes. “Just some rubbish.”

“Just some rubbish, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

There’s no way in hell I’m telling him that it was the first thing I’ve been able to sketch after months.

“Now I see it.”

I follow Levi’s eager field of vision. He’s staring at the end of my Sun-Moon-Star tattoo.

“See what?”

“That’s the reason why you have all these stars on your phone case, your bag, and even your drawings.” He tilts his head. “Do you make wishes upon the stars, princess?”

“I stopped doing that since Mum died.” I narrow my eyes. “You did steal my sketch.”

“What’s your evidence?”

“Tough luck, Levi. You just admitted to it.”

“And how, do tell, did I admit to it?”

I puff my chest, feeling smug. “You said I have stars on my drawings when you’ve supposed to have never seen one.”

He points in my sketchpad’s direction. “I meant that.”

Right. Lie to someone else.

“Let’s run,” he repeats.

“The answer is still no.”

He slides beside me, crowding my space. His eyes gleam with menace and the air shifts.

The park and its runners hush in the background. All I can hear is the thumping of my heart and all I can smell is Levi’s clean, intoxicating scent.

“We can sit here and catch up about what happened on Saturday. You know, the whole part about eating you up,” he whispers so low, it’s sinful. “Do you want to know if I jacked off to your orgasm face?”

I jerk up and start running to hide the heat creeping up my cheeks.

Did he really jack off to me?

Wrong thought, Astrid. Super wrong thought.

Levi catches up to me, chuckling softly. He must be finding all of this too amusing.

Bastard.

While I put every ounce of energy I have to run, Levi seems like he’s strolling in the park.

His legs don’t flex as much as mine — stupid tall people. While I’m already sweating like a pig, there’s not an ounce of sweat on his forehead.

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