Deviant King: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite Book 1)

I thought I knew fear.

My parents’ death brought me raw, inexplicable fear.

So much fear that I buried it all in a black, inaccessible box.

As I stare at Aiden’s impassive face, I realise that I know nothing about fear.

Or if I did, then I forgot it.

Because Aiden, an eighteen-year-old, is giving me another definition of fear.

I’ve never really known Aiden King until this moment when he has me at his complete mercy — or the lack thereof.

Pride and dignity were the only things that got me through the past two years from hell.

But now, as I stand with my hands locked behind my back and my shirt ripped open, that pride is crumbling apart like it was cartoonish.

An illusion.

A lie.

“Aiden…” His name gets stuck in my throat like smoke.

He’s like smoke.

Suffocating, slippery, and undecipherable.

“Stop this.” My voice drops, softening, pleading with any human part in him.

But I should’ve known better.

There’s no humanity in a monster.

His steel gaze darts my way, and I cease to breathe.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but for Aiden, there’s… nothing.

It’s empty in there.

A dark, bottomless hole.

“What are you willing to do to have me stop?” His voice is calm. Too calm. It’s terrifying.

“Let’s take the phone, King.” Xander’s voice holds an uncertainty that matches my jumbled insides. Even though his grip remains steel-like.

“No.” Aiden doesn’t break eye contact. He’s like a dog with a bone. There’s no stopping him until he gets what he wants.

“Frozen here will give me what I want so I’ll let her go, right?”

I shake my head once, holding onto the last thread of dignity I have left.

Xander presses on my wrists harder as if communicating something. What, I don’t know.

The sadistic spark from earlier returns as Aiden watches me intently. “What do you say, Frozen?”

He reaches for the lace of my bra, his fingers tracing along the lace. My back stiffens, and I shrink into Xander as if he’s my defence against his friend.

In all honesty, he may be the only defence I have.

Aiden gets bolder, hooking his finger against the cloth. His skin brushes along the valley of my breasts, leaving a trail of something so foreign, it’s horrifying.

He’s not even reaching for the phone. No. He watches me with that poker face the more his fingers lazily trace along the curve of my breasts, stopping at my scar.

His endgame seems to be making me uncomfortable in my own skin.

It’s working.

It’s freaking working, damn it.

Xander tugs on my wrist again as if pushing me to end this.

“Fine!” I seethe. “What the hell do you want?”

Aiden steps back but doesn’t break eye contact. I don’t want to back off first, but staring into those hollow eyes is exhausting.

It’s like being trapped in a void and screaming, but the only sound you’re able to hear is the echo.

“Everyone calls me King.”

“And?” I ask, not knowing what he’s getting at.

“You don’t.”

“That’s because you have a first name, why the hell would I call you by your last?”

“Who gave you the right to call me by my first name?”

“Huh?”

“Call me King.” His face lights up with malice.

He’s enjoying this. The bastard is enjoying seeing me helpless.

I thought Aiden was crazy before, but it turns out he’s a fucking psycho.

“Call you King?” I repeat, incredulous.

“It’s not rocket science. Say, please let me go, King and I might.”

I wiggle against Xander’s hold, hating how my breasts bounce with the move. “I don’t care who you are, Aiden, and you too, arsehole.” I throw over my shoulder at Xander who’s… playing on his phone? Seriously? I jut my chin at Aiden. “If you do anything to me, I’ll report you for sexual harassment and ruin your entire future.”

“Damn, Frozen. You’re truly fucked now.” Xander whistles. “You really shouldn’t have threatened him.”

“I thought you were smart.” Aiden tsks. “But I guess you have your stupid moments, too.”

Before I can ponder on that, he yanks me from his friend’s hold. I cry out as I collide against his hard chest. His rough fingers dig into my bra. He retrieves my phone and throws it behind me. To Xander I suppose. Then he grabs both my wrists behind my back, locking them in one bruising hand.

“I’m out of here,” Xander says in an absent-minded tone. “Don’t take long.”

His casual footsteps disappear into the distance.

I never thought I would want Xander to stay, but I’m ready to beg him to. He might be cruel, but he doesn’t have an empty gaze like the one Aiden is watching me with.

“You have the phone.”

“So?”

“So let me go.” I stare at his shirt, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“That would be a no.”

His fingers are back to my bra again, but instead of tracing like earlier, his thumb and forefinger latch onto my pebbled nipple through the cloth and he pinches.

A sound claws its way up my throat, but I clamp my lips shut around it. A strange heat invades my body and I hate it.

I hate the tormenting sensation.

I hate him.

I try to struggle, but that only pushes my half-naked breasts forward, making them bounce in his hands.

“Are you putting on a show for me?” He smirks.

“Screw you.”

He pinches hard again, and pressure builds behind my eyes.

“Try again.”

“What do you want from me, damn it?”

He pinches again, and I bite my lower lip so hard that I taste blood. I’m all flushed, sweaty, and sticky. It kills me that I’m allowing him to have this effect on me.

“So now you want to know what I want?” He tsks, lazily brushing his thumb on my hard nipple.

“Just tell me.”

“What makes you think I want to tell you now? Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like you this way.”

My chest heaves up and down in an erratic rhythm. He’s not even looking at me. All his attention is on my breasts and… the scar. He doesn’t break eye contact from it like he’s a child who’s found a new favourite toy.

He watches intently with that slight furrow in his thick brows. His suffocating interest makes me feel even more exposed than when he ripped my shirt open.

“I’ll do it,” I blurt. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

His smokey eyes finally slide up to mine as he tilts his head.

It’s a dangerous tactic, but it’s the only way to swipe his attention from my scar.

“Apologise,” he says with a casualty that negates his blackening eyes and the torturous swipe of his thumb on my nipple.

“Apologise for what?”

“For threatening me.”

Hot fury whooshes through my veins like a fast-spreading fire.

Enough.

I’m not taking his entitled shit anymore.

“You’re the one who’s supposed to apologise to me! You ruined my life for two years for no reason and you’re now holding me against my will.”

“Hmm, for no reason.” He repeats with a casualty that kills me. “Is that what you think?”

Nope. No. I’m not breaking my rule. I won’t try to understand bullies.

Not now.

Not ever.

I wiggle against him, stomping my feet and groaning with pent up frustration.

“You might want to stop, Frozen.”

“Screw. You,” I grunt, willing all my strength to get me out of his hold.

“Keep struggling, and you’ll have to take care of this.” He pushes his hips into me. Something pokes against the softness of my belly.

My eyes widen, and I go completely still.

He’s… hard.

His usual bored expression is gone. The star, perfect player is gone, too.

Instead, there’s this dark spark of sadism.

He gets off on my struggle. No. Scratch that. He gets off on seeing me helpless.

The arsehole is turned on by my weakness.

Is he… a full-blown sociopath?

“You’re sick,” The words leave my mouth in a haunted whisper.

He lifts a shoulder. “Could be.”

His fingers snake into my bra and circle a nipple. I thought it was torturous over the cloth, but having his skin against mine is complete hell.

I can feel the pulse of his nerves — or mine — and it’s making me hyper-aware of everything.

Of the pine scent around us. Of the rustle in the trees. The humidity in the air. And his sheer asphyxiating presence.

I screw my lids shut, not wanting to feel whatever sensation that’s crawling up my spine.

His touch is bruising, uncomfortable even, but there’s a flash of something going through me that I can’t identify.

No one has ever touched me this way before, and I hate that Aiden King is the first to invade my body.

“Do you like me hard for you?” he asks in a nonchalant, almost amused tone.

“Of course not. Are you crazy?”

“Then why aren’t you giving me what I want? Because the more you resist, the harder I’ll get.”

“Go fuck yourself, Aiden.” I stare at him straight in the eyes. “I won’t let you break me.”

It’s false bravado.

I’m scared of this monster. After what he did today, I honestly don’t know how far he’d go.

However, after my parents’ death, I vowed to never apologise for something I haven’t done.

Aiden fucking King won’t make me go back to that helpless child I was.

“Don’t put ideas in my head.” He runs the pad of his thumb over my nipple. “It’s already crowded with so many fantasies about you.”

So many fantasies about me?

Aiden has freaking fantasies about me?

“Are you going to tell me what scares you, Frozen?” It’s a taunt, his mocking way to put me in my place.

“Nothing scares me.”

“I call bullshit on that. Everyone has something that scares them.” He sounds thoughtful. “What’s yours?”

I lift my chin. “I told you. Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar, but I’ll play the game. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”

His fingers leave my nipple, but before I can release the breath I’ve been holding, he trails his hand down and over my bare stomach.

I suck in a crackling breath at how gentle, almost soothing, his touch is. It’s the complete opposite of the devil look in his impenetrable eyes.

His fingers play with the waistband of my skirt. “Are you a virgin, Frozen?”

My stomach plummets with so many feelings I can’t keep up with. I look away from him and stare at a tree so hard as if willing it to go up in flames and end this nightmare.

It’s not prudeness that fills me. It’s not even shame.

This arsehole actually terrifies me and I hate myself for it. I also hate the tingles erupting at the bottom of my belly.

What in the ever loving hell are they supposed to mean? He’s violating me and I’m freaking tingling?

“No?” He sounds almost disapproving. “Who did you give it up to? The biology teacher? Some loser in your previous public school?”

I meet his demon eyes again. “That’s none of your business.”

“Did you like it when he plunged inside you?” he continues as if he didn’t hear what I just said. “Or did it hurt? I bet you were too tight, huh? Did he tear you in one go or did he take it slow? I bet the sorry fuck worshipped you like some Goddess, didn’t he? But you’re not a Goddess, you’re Frozen. I bet he didn’t know you have an icy heart when he was giving you foreplay and taking it easy on you. Did you bleed all over his dick or on the sheets? Did he get you off or did you have to fake it? Or maybe —”

“Shut up!” My face burns at the crudeness of his explicit words.

What type of person has so many questions about how someone lost their virginity?

Worse. Why did his expression darken with every question as if he’s… pissed off?

Aiden’s hand plunges inside my skirt and he slaps my thighs apart.

I cry out, my heart shrivels into a black hole. “A-Aiden, what are you doing?”

“For the last time, it’s King.” His face is completely blank except for the slight smirk. “You said you’ll report me for sexual harassment.”

“W-what… ?”

“It’s your lucky day. I’m making the report come true.”

“You… can’t be serious?” My voice cracks.

“Have I ever joked with you, Frozen?”

I struggle against him, my heartbeat increases with every second that I can’t budge away. “Aiden! Stop it.”

“Wrong name.” He hums, his finger teasing the hem of my boy shorts.

My throat closes the more his fingers invade the inner part of my thighs. The more I try to close my legs, the harder he slaps my thighs apart.

My walls crumble and I can feel myself losing and crashing to pieces by him.

I suck a breath into my lungs and try to level my tone. Uncle Jaxon always told me that the best negotiating method is to be confident. Even if it’s only the fake type. If I show weakness, Aiden will only lunge towards it like a shark to blood.

My best bet is to be calm — no matter how hard that is.

“King!” I blurt. “Are you happy now?”

He smiles with approval. “Not really, but you’re learning.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“I called you by your stupid last name, what else are you waiting for? Hail to the king?”

He chuckles. “Let’s save that for another day.”

As if there will ever be another day with this bastard. However, I smile. “Fine. Now, screw off.”

“You know…” he trails off. “You really play stupid moves.”

“What?”

“When your opponent charges for the attack, you’re supposed to stay low, not crash with him head first. You’re the only one who’ll get hurt.”

Whatever the hell that means.

“I was ready to let you go, but you pissed me off, so I changed my mind.”

I watch his poker face closely. Aside from the slight twitching in his left eye, he looks peaceful to me.

Not pissed off at all.

But then again, what the hell did I know about Aiden’s body language? He’s like a fort.

Impossible to climb, to peer over, or to destroy.

“Then change it back,” I mumble.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Let me go and I won’t tell anyone,” I say in my most neutral tone.

“Is that so?” His fingers draw small circles inside my thighs, and I clench my fists against the sensation.

I bite back the discomfort and the freaking tingling. “Yes. I only want to finish this year in peace.”

“What makes you think I want you to have any peace, Frozen?” He grips my sex harshly. “You were born to suffer.”

I cry out at the intrusive gesture. A zap bolts straight from where he’s gripping me to my entire body.

Aiden is watching me with those sadistic eyes. Only now, the glint is becoming darker. Hazier. Stronger.

He loves having this effect on me. He’s getting high on it.

Like a drug addict who can’t get enough, he seems ready for more.

The harder I refuse, the more drastic his methods become.

It started with demanding my phone then he wanted me to call him by his last name then he wanted me to apologise.

Whenever I say ‘no’, his assault becomes relentless.

Ruthless.

Remorseless.

I’m provoking a monster.

A full-blown monster.

During my years of struggle against bullies, I learnt to never give them what they want. If I acknowledge their bullying or show them I give a damn about what they did, it’d give them the incentive to push harder.

Aiden is darker than the usual bully, but he’s still a bully all the same.

Only he doesn’t want those apologies or for me to beg or even the damn phone. He wants my struggle.

He wants my helplessness.

My weakness.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt and try to mean it.

He pauses his ministrations for a second, but he doesn’t release my sex. His gaze meets mine and his left eye twitches before he presses his thumb on my clitoris above the cloth.

My legs shake and I briefly close my eyes, willing the feeling to go the fuck away. I shouldn’t be affected by whatever this monster is doing.

“Why did you say that?” he asks.

“You told me to apologise.”

“You don’t mean it.” He leans closer and whispers in hot breaths against my ear, his voice amused. “Did you seriously think I’d fall for that, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart?

Sweet-fucking-heart?

It takes everything in me not to let my anger seethe to the surface. I want to push him so badly, but I know it’ll only give him the upper hand.

Aiden’s type gets off on hysterics. It’s their driving force.

I level my tone. “I apologised as you asked.”

“Apology denied.” He muses. “You of all people don’t get to play games with me.”

You of all people? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“You said you’d let me go. This isn’t fair.”

“Who said anything about fair, hmm?”

How am I supposed to win if he keeps changing the rules?

An idea flashes in my head. It’s something I learnt from old Chinese war books.

When cornered, use your opponent’s attack mechanism.

“What do you want, Aiden?” I soften my tone. “Tell me.”

There must be something he wants. If he asked me the question then he must already have an answer of his own.

“Let me guess.” He smiles without humour. “You’ll make it happen?”

“If you let me go.” It’s a dangerous game and he might decide to not play fair again.

“You never cry.” He observes me, sliding his thumb back and forth over my clit.

I clamp my lips against the sound trying to claw its way through. I want him to stop, but I also want something else.

What, I don’t know.

“Why do you never cry, Frozen?” he asks with an almost gentle tone.

I want to tell him I do cry, just not in front of him or any of his bully minions, but I keep that information to myself.

If I get worked up around him, it’s game over.

“These eyes should be filled with fucking tears.”

“Aiden, seriously, what the hell is your problem?”

“Cry and I’ll let you go.” He deadpans. “You have to be convincing, though.”

My lips part. Is he serious?

“I won’t cry.”

He tightens his grip on my sex, and I whimper. Pain shoots through my core along with something else I don’t want to think about.

“Hmm. I’ll be generous and give you the right for two moves. Either cry or we can stand here all day and I’ll see how far I can take your sexual assault report.”

I look over his shoulder, desperately trying to find anyone. But I should’ve known better. Kim purposefully chooses this place because no one wanders this far in the back garden.

When I stare back at Aiden, he’s watching me with a strange mixture of emotions. Interest? Curiosity? Hate? I don’t know what it is, but I need this freaking psychopath as far away from me as possible.

If crying will push him away then so be it.

“Do you need me to count to three?” he asks.

“Tears don’t come on demand.” I can’t help but snap. I’m too angry and flustered to just cry.

“Let me help.” Still gripping my core, he uses my bound hands to push me back until my breasts thrust in his face.

He glares at the scar as if it’s a person he loathes.

“This should’ve killed you.” His warm breath tickles against my skin and goosebumps erupt in its wake. “You should’ve died, Frozen.”

My nose tingles and pressure builds behind my eyes.

With a few words, he thrust me back to my child-self. To the fear. The helplessness. The unknown.

He’s right. That heart surgery almost killed me. But that’s not the reason behind my unshed tears.

It’s the memories surrounding the surgery — or the lack thereof.

The reason I hate the scar so much isn’t because of the surgery or the non-aesthetic appearance.

It’s because the scar is a reminder that everything before it is blank.

All I have left are nightmares and phobias and a distant reminder that I once had parents.

The scar represents that missing part of me.

Before I can try to seal those emotions into their dark box, Aiden bites on the flesh of my breast. I cry out as his teeth sink into the skin and then he sucks and bites along the scar with such animosity that leaves me breathless.

And terrified.

It’s like he wants to bite the skin off.

Unleash those memories.

The nightmares.

The smoke and the flames.

And the blood… so much fucking blood.

“Aiden, s-stop.”

He doesn’t.

He continues feasting on my skin like he’s a cannibal.

Everything will be out.

All of it.

This can’t be happening.

“Stop!” My lips tremble as tears fall down my cheeks.

Aiden lifts his head. He stares at my face, at my tears, and the expression of hate that must be written all over my face.

His features are expressionless.

Closed.

Impassive.

“Good girl.”

He finally lets me go. The space between my legs feels kind of strange when he removes his hand. My shoulders ache from how he locked my wrists behind my back.

I expected him to step back and leave me be.

But Aiden never acts like you expect him to.

His upper body leans over and he darts his tongue out.

Aiden licks the tears falling down my right cheek. My skin turns hot and cold at the same time.

He moves to the left cheek, taking his time in tasting my tears.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t appear as shocked as I feel.

However, his devil mask slips.

I get my first glimpse at the real Aiden.

The one he hides behind the smiles. The true form.

If the smirk on his face and the manic look in his eyes are any indication, then the fucking psycho enjoyed licking my tears.

A phone rings, startling me out of my stupor.

He checks it and sighs like someone is ruining his fun.

He gives me one last, unreadable look. “Be smart and stop making stupid moves.”

More tears continue falling down my cheeks as I watch his stupid tall frame disappear behind the trees.

I turn in the opposite direction and run.