I don’t think she noticed it, but at that moment, she looked exactly like her father when he’s putting down his political enemies in the House of Lords.
What? I might have googled her and watched a few videos of her dad on YouTube.
“Why do you think Aiden and I are weird?” I ask, needing to keep her talking.
The way her lips roll around the words reminds me of how I claimed her mouth and how much I want to repeat it over and fucking over again.
Before I claim other parts of her.
Soon.
So soon.
“I don't know, I just feel it.” She buttons her jacket concealing my view of her tits. “You’re obviously the devil in disguise.”
“Why in disguise?”
“Because you appear perfect and gorgeous on the outside.”
“Perfect and gorgeous, huh?”
“That wasn’t a compliment. It only means that you’re not on the inside.”
“Still, you think I’m perfect and gorgeous, yeah?”
The slight blush creeping up her cheeks is all the answer I need.
“Whatever. You only look that way because you inherited some Vikings’ genes — which is super unfair by the way. I should’ve been the one who inherited some.”
“Why?”
“Mate! Have you seen them? They’re super badass.”
“You’re doing just fine without the Viking looks, princess.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, back to you and your cousin. You’re the devil and Aiden seems suspiciously too normal.”
I laugh, my head tipping back. “If you think I'm the devil, you should search for a higher position for Aiden.”
She mulls my words over in that busy head of hers. “Does it run in the family? Being abnormal, I mean.”
My jaw clenches, but I mask my reaction and smile. “Sure thing. If it makes you sleep better at night to know we’re all defected, then go right ahead.”
“You don't have to be a dick about it.” She stands, throwing the towel to the side. “I'm trying to figure out why Dad hates you guys so much when he thinks all those negative emotions are beneath him.”
“Maybe Lord Clifford isn’t such a saint after all.”
She lifts her chin. “Or maybe your family wronged him. I witnessed first hand how cruel a King can be.”
Jonathan is the type who destroys anyone who crosses him. It’s weird that he’s choosing to remain tight lipped about his grudge against Lord Clifford.
“Take me home.”
I abandon my half-full glass of vodka and approach her in steady steps. “Repeat that without the order part.”
“So only you are allowed to dish out orders?”
“Basically.” I stop when I’m toe-to-toe with her and she has to stare up at me. “Now, rephrase. Here's a hint. Use ‘please’.”
“Go screw yourself, please.”
I grin. “Wrong choice.”
My arm wraps around her waist and I dip my head down to hers, needing to taste her lips again.
To feast on them.
To eat her up until there’s nothing left of her.
Astrid’s sparkly green eyes widen. She jerks a hand up covering her mouth and my lips find her fingers.
Instead of pulling away, I kiss the back of her hand, biting and nibbling on her skin like I would’ve done her lips. I tongue her forefinger and middle finger, thrusting between them and sucking the flesh into my mouth.
A long shudder goes through her. I’m rock fucking hard. My dick strains against my trousers wanting to feel her bare.
I’m consuming her fingers with my mouth and she’s consuming me with that expressive, lust-filled gaze.
Her hand trembles as if she wants to remove it, but something is stopping her.
Maybe it’s the same thing that’s stopping me from bending her over and burying myself inside her so deep, neither of us would know where I end and she begins.
In one night, I had a bruised nose and shoulder because of her. I had my first all-consuming kiss with her. I enjoyed the rain after a long time also because of her.
I can’t begin to imagine what my life would be like if I spend more time with her.
No idea what’s this fucking obsession with Astrid is all about, but I know one thing.
I’m seeing it to the very end.
20
Astrid
When it rains, it fucking pours.
* * *
My eyes are barely open as I trudge down the stairs. Pain snaps from the back to the front of my head and my nose is partially blocked.
Yup. Totally caught something from being soaked in last night’s rain.
Aside from sheer confusion.
The more time I spend with Levi, the better I think I know him. At the same time, it’s like I still know next to nothing about him.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he does everything he does.
Don’t they say that on the chessboard, the king’s moves can’t be predicted?
Or did I make that up?
What worries me the most about Levi isn’t his acts. It’s my reaction to him. Yesterday, I was on the verge of completely surrendering to his sinful touch and lips. Damn those firm, kissable lips.
For the love of Vikings, why can’t I snap out of it and stop thinking about that kiss?
He’s the devil, remember?
“I saw her! She came home in King’s car.”
“Now, hush, Nicole,” Victoria hisses. “Don’t say that name aloud in this house.”
My feet falter around the corner of the dining room, contemplating what to do.
They’re talking about me so I shouldn’t feel bad about eavesdropping.
“I can’t take this anymore, she’s not supposed to be here. You said she’ll be gone.”
“She will.” Victoria sounds calm. “This is her last year in the house before she leaves for good.”
How did she figure out my plan?
Not that I care. This is all for everyone’s benefit. I don’t fit in with Victoria and Nicole’s posh, perfect life.
Even Nicole’s dead father was some sort of a knight. She and her mother are a picture-perfect family cut for Dad’s needs.
If he has to choose, it won’t be me.
I ignore the pang that comes with that thought and start to push inside when Victoria’s voice stops me. “Her type belongs in the rubbish just like her whore mother.”
Blood pumps in my veins and heat smothers my neck, creeping to my face.
I barge inside with my fists clenched to my sides and throw my backpack on the chair.
Victoria and Nicole sit across from each other with their plates in front of them.
“Take it back,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel.
Nicole’s malicious eyes shoot daggers in my direction as she stabs something in her plate.
Victoria’s perfect eyebrows scrunch in mock surprise. “Take what back, dear?”
“You called my mother a whore and you’ll take it back.”
“You must’ve misheard, dear,” Victoria continues smiling as she sips her tea with no care in the world.
The thing about Victoria is her ability to avoid confrontation and slip her way out of any dire situation. It’s probably why she’s the perfect wife for a man like my father.