Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5) - Rina Kent Page 0,53

if you want to join.

Knox: Why didn’t you tell me you disappeared? I had to hear about it from Dad. You’re losing twin privileges, sis.

Knox: Text me back that you’re okay.

I reply to both of them, thinking I’m done with texts, but then a dozen other messages appear at the top.

My heart does that stupid thing whenever his name comes into view. God, what’s wrong with me?

The first text was an hour after I left school.

Ronan: When I told you to figure out your mistake, I meant to figure out your fucking mistake, not get together with Cole. Spoiler alert: that made your situation way fucking worse.

He sent another text soon after.

Ronan: Where are you? Why is your phone turned off?

He laid off for an hour before sending another one.

Ronan: Teal, don’t fuck with me or I’m tying you the fuck down when I find you. Answer your damn phone.

Ronan: If this is your version of playing hard to get, it’s working. Reply to my texts or answer my calls. We need to talk. Stat.

His next text was a few hours later, at eight.

Ronan: Do you know where I am? At the Meet Up. You’ve been here before, but do you know the story behind it? It’s the place Aiden inherited from his dead mother. It’s the only place where we get to be ourselves and just talk. Usually, I’d do most of the storytelling. I’m not talking right now, though. I’m thinking about you while smoking weed and contemplating the perfect way to get away with murder and if I can melt Cole’s corpse with acid. No idea what that makes you, but it’s something close to being the cause of murder. If you don’t want to become one, how about you answer me?

My lips curve in a smile before I can stop it. He has a way of making you feel like you’re there with him. I can absolutely imagine him being a bastard about what happened with Cole, but it’s not like he’s innocent in the whole thing.

The following text came soon after.

Ronan: What’s with all the purging Knox mentioned? What are you doing? I just confirmed that the fucker Agnus is with Ethan at the company or I would’ve cut a bitch. You’re not at the club either. That’s a good save, for your sake, not mine. Why do you need to purge? And I can’t stress this enough, but fucking answer me.

I bite my lower lip, my heart beating fast and loud. I can’t believe Knox told him that. It’s supposed to be our secret. Why does everyone think Ronan is good to be privy to my life?

Myself included, because even now, I’m tempted to reply to that text and come clean about all the shit I think about when I’m in this mental state.

He has that effect on me, Ronan, the type where I want to bare myself and just be out there with him.

Which is the worst thing that could happen to someone like me with someone like him.

I might have snagged this arranged marriage, might have fought tooth and nail for it, but the truth remains: he’s an earl’s son.

I’m a prostitute’s offspring.

A few hours later, at night, another text comes from him.

Ronan: You’re infuriating — has anyone ever told you that? You’re so infuriating it’s on another level. You’re so infuriating I’m tempted to do shit to you. But I don’t have you here with me, so I’m rubbing one out in your honour, ma belle. I’m jerking off to the memory of your lips wrapped around my dick as I fucked your face like the other time. When I see you again, I’m fucking you whole.

My mouth hangs open and the cold air forms goosebumps on my skin. I can’t fight away the image of Ronan masturbating, and not only masturbating, but masturbating for me.

When did I become such a fan of male masturbation? And not any male — him.

Another text came this morning.

Ronan: I didn’t sleep because of you. Happy now? I’m not. Happy, I mean. Lars isn’t happy either because I made him stay up all night listening to me spouting rubbish. He’s writing about me in his little black book and hid my stash of weed. No more weed for me at home. It’s all because of you, belle. I’m going to take it out on your pussy the next time I see you, which better be in the first class of the day at school.

An hour

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