Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance (38 page)

BOOK: Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance
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His voice rumbles low, booming, savage. Scarcely human. I don't try to squeak out another word, even if I want to.

“No, no, no, boss,” Karl blubbers. “She's a tease. She brought me here. Boss, please!
Boss!

I cover my face with one hand. Fuck it. He deserves everything the mad dog protecting me wants to give him.

Karl never gets out another word. Ty picks him up and drags him across the room, through a narrow space formed by boxes stacked to the ceiling. A door I hadn't seen before swings open in the back. I catch a glimpse of some loading docks, and that's where Ty throws his manager.

Well,
former
manager. The door slams shut while the man is still screaming, and he whirls around.

Now, I'm face to face with the devil himself. But if he's a devil, then Satan has the coolest, most beautiful blue eyes anyone can imagine.

I feel like I'm facing a firing squad. Only, instead of catching a bullet, I'm going to catch nothing but pure hell, or else a twisted ache between my legs.

“I'm sorry as fuck about this, babe. He's never acted like this before – or at least I've never caught him. Shit, it's always the ones you trust.” Ty shakes his head.

I see he's got a bandage on his temple, and his skin's gone slightly dark in several patches on his face. Fresh bruises are blooming from the fight.

I can't believe what's just happened – what I've barely escaped. Rage floods my brain in one blast.

“I didn't need your help. I would've screamed.” I ball my fingers into fists, amazed at the words coming out of my mouth. It's pure defense. “There was another couple out there who would've heard us, broken up what he was doing. Thanks, but no thanks, Ty. I appreciate your help, but I don't
need
it. You're
not
my knight in shining armor, and you're definitely not my prince.”

God. I sound like a total lying bitch, and maybe I am.

But I
need
to be. I can't let myself actually fall for the six-foot-something lunatic standing in front of me, looking like he wants to either rip my head off or pick up where Karl left off.

“Shit, you're drunk. I never should've let you outta my fucking sight for one second.” He grabs my wrist, and for about the fourth time that night, I'm led around by a man.

Fire explodes in my belly. I yell, try to fight. It doesn't do me any good. We burst out of the room and he marches me through the VIP lounge, toward another not-so-secret passage in the club.

“Ty! Ty! Let me fucking go! I
can
walk on my own, you know.”

“I don't know shit when you're like this. The only fucking thing I know is that I'm never letting another man lay his hands on you, even if he's not a sinister little pissant like my dearly departed Swedish manager.”

We're going down a short, dark hallway now. The EXIT sign glows red above a door. As soon as it's open, I smell exhaust fumes and hear rowdy laughter. We step out next to his car, perfectly parked in his reserved spot behind the club.

“No way! I'm not going home right now.” I stand up on my heels and glare at him. “I'm going back inside. I'll shake this off so I'm good to drive in a few hours. I can't let our parents see me like this...”

His eyes narrow. I should be expecting him to grab me and throw me into the car, but it's something else when he really does it.

I'm a screaming, bawling mess, totally going to pieces. Too drunk to pop the lock and get out again too.
Mercy.

Catching a quick flash of my reflection, seeing what I've become, is all that calms me the hell down while he slides into the driver's seat.

“We'll take our time. I'll sneak you in. Your ma's oblivious, and Dad's got his head too far up his own ass to notice anything. Stop worrying all the goddamned time. You're in good hands with me.”

Am I?
I feel like I've got a boa constrictor around my throat.

Before, I was just confused, drowning in all the storming emotions he ignites inside me. Now, I'm livid.

He's doing it. Again.

The ever-cocky asshole steering us through downtown Seattle's controlling my fucking life. Sure, he saved me tonight, but then he has the arrogance to tell me he'll decide who gets to lay his hands on me?

Where does he get off?
Where?
Or does he just get off on bossing me around like I'm really this little-sister-wannabe-lover combo he can't decide what to do with?

I'm fuming, trying to focus on breathing without passing out. My stomach heaves every time the car lurches, and I fight just to avoid getting sick all over his fancy leather interior, which is even nicer than the one in my new car.

Shit. My car!

“Hey, dick, since you're taking me for a ride tonight – who's going to get my car home?”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and sneers. “I've got connections. I own a whole fucking nightclub, babe. My old man's the richest man for several hundred miles. You really think I haven't sorted out the logistics of that shit about a second before I decided to get your ass home?”

He makes me feel so small. If both my hands weren't tucked close to my angry belly, trying to hold everything inside, I'd slap him clean across his stupid smug face.

But I guess we've been there, done that, haven't we?

Nothing gets through to him. Nothing.

I can't make him respect me. I can't decide if I really deserve it. All I can do is settle into my seat and let him punch my ticket to another rung of hell. The only thing I know about my destination is that I'm bound to suffer,
guaranteed
to bottle up my emotions while they eat me from the inside out, this fucked up love-hate thing we've got going that smolders like slow moving acid.

“You always have all the answers, don't you?” The saner part of my brain's screaming
shut up,
and it wants me to bite my tongue. But it comes out anyway.

Ty stomps the accelerator a little harder.

“Yeah, I do. I know how my world works, as much as I fucking can. Shit, you saw what happened back there when I miscalculated. I almost got you literally fucked by some piece of shit who's not fit to stick his dick in the nearest blender!” His fist comes down on the steering wheel – hard.

I blink, trying to comprehend what I'm hearing. It's bitter and violent, even by his standards. There's something else too.

Is Ty Asshole Sterner actually feeling...
guilty?

I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think he had a conscience. He seemed like a wild beast before, a force of nature, certainly not a man with thoughts and feelings and regrets behind his inked up muscle.

“Huh? Are you really saying you're...sorry?”

He just drives for a few seconds. Then he looks at me and narrows his eyes. The shadows dance with a few fresh bruises on his jaw.

“Yeah. Sorry some asshole I trusted turned out to be a piece of shit.”

I snort. I should've known he wasn't
really
going to give me an honest, heartfelt apology. Still, he's gone quiet, serious, and the bright blue eagle eyes he's got fixed on me haven't moved a notch.

“But that's only half the issue. Claire, you're right. With you, I'm a controlling motherfucker. I'm jealous. Loose cannon doesn't begin to describe the way my damned heart beats whenever I feel another man's eyes on you. Let's be straight – any asshole who swoops in for a kiss would've gotten the treatment I gave Karl. That's what anybody with a swinging dick's gonna get as long as I'm around. You're making me fucking crazy. I won't let
any
man fuck you, even if he brings you roses, candy, and martinis for the privilege. We both know the only dick worth having between your legs is mine.”

My ears start ringing. I'm still a little drunk, and my brain struggles to truly process what he's saying.

I'm not sure if I should be flattered or completely horrified.

The car jerks, and for a second all my worries are dashed by the fear that he's going to drive us right off one of the high ocean cliffs overlooking the coastline up to Bellingham.

By the time I remember to breathe, we're heading down a small service road, into a dense forest. He pulls over, kills the engine, and brings us to full stop.

“Ty...this is crazy.” My voice sound so small. “We can't really do this, you know. We can't, our parents are married, we're practically brother and –“

“Sis?” He says it and sends needles dancing up my spine. “I don't give a fucking shit. It's not like we're blood related and we'll make mutant babies or something. I've been fighting this shit since the minute I laid eyes on you. I've never been so obsessed. I can't shake it. Absolutely fucking can't. And you know that? Pussy's easy come, easy go in my world. Only, for some crazy reason, yours is stuck on my mind, twenty-four-fucking-seven like a jackhammer drilling into my skull. Stop pretending you don't want this.”

He unbuckles his seat belt and leans in close. My heart's swollen with all the bitter lies I keep trying to tell myself, trying to tell him. It hurts because they're not true.

I
do
want him, dammit. We both know it.

And now I remember how fucking good his lips feel against mine.

Ty's kiss crashes into my lips and swallows me up like a tsunami. His heat sweeps over me, and I can barely remember to kiss him back before he starts growling into my mouth.

God, that growl. He's a feral man, and that's what makes this so insane, but the heat in my body doesn't lie.

It shouts down the crap I've tried to tell myself. Lust is a thousand times louder. My nipples are like pebbles underneath my shirt, and everything beneath my waist coils tighter, tighter, ready to
snap
if he doesn't dig in and unwind the tension.

My mind races at light speed while his kiss quickens. Ty's got his hands around my back now, shoving me close, pulling me over the divider between us. I bend around him, as naturally as if we were always designed to fit.

“Fuck, babe,” he snarls, fisting my hair. “You ready to admit you want this yet? Or do I have to prove how damned good it'll be?”

No.
I'll deny it a hundred times if it makes him set me on fire like this. But eventually, kiss by fiery kiss, I'm going to give in.

The good girl inside me stomps her feet and whimpers as he kisses me again. I try to squirm back toward the steering wheel, but Ty's hands won't let me maneuver away, won't let me resist. He holds me down and pulls my soft locks again.

This time, he bites me. It's hot, unexpected, and just a little bit scary.

The scant kisses I've had with other boys can't even compare to this. They're not in the same universe.

He doesn't stop for air either. This man's lips don't quit. They're just driving deeper, harder, ruthlessly taking me over. His tongue pushes into my lips and holds me open. I'm shaking and I can't stop the moan from steaming into his mouth.

He growls back, sucks my bottom lip with his teeth, shoving his tongue against mine. I can't even imagine playing hard to get when he's already inside me, whirling his tongue against mine like he owns it.

Hot. Wet. Unapologetic.

His hands dip down and go below my waist. I moan for precious air when he cups my hips and squeezes. My ass jerks in his hands, and I swing up, accidentally grinding into his lap.

His lips quirk up in a smile against mine when I gasp, feeling how huge and hard he is. He must've planned this. He had to!

Nothing else explains why I'm going to pieces all over this thick, tattooed prince who talks like a street thug. When his thumbs hook just below the waistband to my skirt, catching my panties too, I jerk up and pull away.

I can't speak. I'm too stupefied, too alive with pleasure coursing through my system. My body doesn't want to do anything but
feel
. All my blood goes straight to making sure I'm burning and wet for him.

Ty's ocean eyes are brighter than ever, small worlds dancing in his sockets. He doesn't say anything as he shoves my bottom down in one rough push.

“Oh, God!” I practically come on the spot, and he hasn't even touched me yet. Not
there.

If it didn't feel so good, I'd be embarrassed. He's fucked a small army of weekly concubines, and I'm just a pathetic virgin, one more reason to hate him for the gulf of sexual experience between us.

Yeah, that's right. I
still
hate this asshole with his hands on my bare ass, pouring his hot breath all over me, even if I happen to
love
what he's doing to me.

He lifts up a hand and aims it at the control panel beneath the window. I jump as the seat falls back, flattening itself low and nearly horizontal. Great, now my bare, slick pussy is practically pressed right against his dick, separated only by his jeans.

I try to edge up, but he grabs me, and pins me down on his waist with a growl. “Don't you fucking move, babe. That's my job.”

“Ty, I don't know about –“

This?
I think to myself, finishing it as his face goes between my legs. He drags me right where he wants me, making room for us, cutting off my words. One lick, and hell, I don't know about anything.

All the thoughts I have about wriggling away from him and saving face are obliterated the instant his tongue licks between my folds. He licks long, slow, and deep, making me feel how incredible this can be if I just shut up and go along with it.

He's controlling every fucking thing I do, even from the bottom. I want to slap him across the face, keep hitting him before the shame and confusion kills me. But this control, these orders gliding from his mouth on my tender skin...I don't mind it.

My trembling hands resist the urge to fight and clamp down on his shoulders. It's just as well, because his licks are speeding up, making my entire body rock with his hunger. He finds my clit, pulls it into his mouth, and starts dragging the ferocious tip of his tongue across it.

I think about those stupid superhero flicks Mom grew up watching, and insisted on sharing with me when I was a kid.

Bam! Pow! Hiss!

One thing's for sure – he's an honest-to-God ninja when his mouth covers my pussy – and he isn't going to stop until I either say it or blow the car's windows out with my screams.

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