There’s this thing about breaking habits that messes with the human brain.
Or that’s what Cole says. I believe him, anyway, because he reads more than the pope reads the bible.
My point is, breaking my habits is what’s making me weird. I can see it loud and clear now.
I went from throwing a party every other night, smoking my stash of weed, and fucking exotic girls to living like a priest.
The partying part can be overcome. Not only does Lars no longer bitch at me to stop, the absence of night fun also means Mum is home. I get to have breakfasts and dinners with her every day. Needless to say, her presence matters more than all those other strangers who only exist in my life because I have money and status.
Mum being here also means Dad is around, too, and that kind of sucks, especially since he’s been watching me more closely lately.
Lars and I have put on an Oscar-level performance each time he’s asked about a missing item.
Or rather, I put on the performance and Lars follows along. It’s become our thing since that night.
The excuses usually follow the same pattern of What? We had that? We must’ve given it to friends.
Dad reminds me that we don’t have that many friends, and I tell him of course we do. They just visit when he’s not around because they seem to love me. It’s like he’s baiting me to admit something, and for some reason, it doesn’t feel like he’s interested in the partying part.
The only untouched things are Mom’s paintings, which she’s spent years collecting. She studied art before she had tremors and had to stop drawing altogether.
Or maybe that’s the version of things my father came up with to convince her to remain a housewife — or rather his bloody secretary, whom he paraded around the globe.
Anyway, back to the point, the lack of sex is the reason behind the shitshow a few days ago at La Débauche. If I’d been fucking like a normal human being, I would’ve never had those thoughts about Teal or sent her those texts.
Or dreamt about an affair between her mouth and Ron Astor the Second.
Now is the time to fix it.
Then, I’ll corner her and have her visit my father and tell him all too politely that she’s breaking off the engagement.
I drag Claire behind me to a storage room at the back of the library. She giggles as we sneak through the rows of books.
Claire is one of the few I’ve fucked more than once. As long as I bring her to orgasm, she lets me do whatever I want.
Except what you really want to do, you mean?
Shush, thoughts.
As soon as we’re away from prying eyes, I flip Claire’s dark brown hair over her shoulder. “Strip for me.”
She licks her lower lip and I wait for her to refuse, but she throws her uniform’s jacket away then unbuttons her shirt. I reach into her lacy bra and twist her nipples, and she sighs.
Sighs? Really?
I ignore that and tease her nipples some more. She leans into me, breathing with delight. Fuck, it’s like I’m caressing her.
Not like a certain someone who detonated all over the floor after I only touched her nipples.
But this isn’t about her.
I lift my hand and grab Claire’s jaw then open her mouth using my fingers.
“Do you want me to blow you?” Claire asks in a sultry voice that’s…wrong.
So damn wrong.
I can’t even get Ron Astor the Second to wake up for her.
I-I’ll be good.
Her voice barges into my mind like a fucking train wreck.
“Say I’ll be good,” I tell Claire.
“I’ll be good.” She runs her tongue over her upper lip and fingers my tie. “Aren’t you like sooo overdressed, though?”
“That’s not the tone.” I smile. “Say it right.”
Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
It hits me then like doom with all the damning sounds. It’s not her voice that I want to hear or her face that I want to see.
In all the years I’ve been fucking my way through the female population, I always had that sense of dissatisfaction. I brought them to orgasm and had mine in return, but there was always something missing.
I ignored it for years, pretending it was wrong.
But that night, when Teal rubbed all over my stomach, I realised what I’ve been missing.
It’s the depravity of the act.
I have never in my life been as hard as I was while her body was wrapped all over me.
And I mean fucking never.
Since he witnessed that scene, Ron Astor the Second has become picky and refuses to get hard for anyone.
It’s not Claire’s fault; it’s his.
I’m about to push her away when the door opens. Light comes through the slight crack before those slender fishnet-stocking-covered legs come into view.
Teal is breathing heavily as she glues her back to the door, closing it behind her, and clutches her chest, seeming oblivious to her surroundings.
She bends over, her harsh breathing filling the dim space, but I can make out her dishevelled state, the parting of her lips even as her hair falls on either side of her face.
Is she having some sort of an attack?
Now that I think about it, she’s always had these moments where she disappears to the middle of nowhere and no one can find her.
“Um, excuse us?” Claire places a hand on her hips, turning slightly to face her. “This spot is occupied.”
Teal’s body jerks, her head snapping up. The blackness of her eyes appears even more desolate with the lack of light.
The moment she sees me, her expression softens, but it only lasts for a second. The rest of the scene in front of her becomes clear — Claire half-naked, my hands on her chest — and just like that, Teal’s features turn into a blank façade.
Unfeeling.
Empty.
She wants me to think none of this affects her? Fuck that.
“I didn’t know anyone was in here.” She starts to turn around.
“You can stay and watch.” I smile. “Right, Claire?”
The latter nods, too eager to end this and go tell her friends she fucked Ronan Astor. Girls here use me and I use them back — win-win.
Teal doesn’t make a move to stay.
Someone is running away.
My lips rise in a smirk. “Unless something about it bothers you?”
“You flatter yourself.” She faces me fully, her hands hanging limp by her sides.
“How about we give my fiancée a show, Claire?” I grin at her. “She’s a bit of a voyeur.”
I think Teal’s jaw clenches, but it disappears all too soon.
“Absolutely, Ron,” Claire says breathlessly.
“On your knees, love.” I’m speaking to Claire, but my attention is on the girl by the door. “Suck me off and make it good so my fiancée can get some pointers.”
Claire sinks to her knees without any protest, her fingers playing with my belt.
Come on, ma belle. You know you want to stop this.
Teal’s gaze remains uninterested, detached even as the situation progresses before her eyes. Her hands tremble a little; it wouldn’t even be noticeable if I wasn’t watching her like a hawk.
Claire is now unbuttoning my trousers, and I groan. “How do you feel watching your future husband being blown by someone else, ma belle? Does it turn you on?”
Teal’s gaze strays to Claire’s fingers before it slides back to my face. “There’s one type that turns me on, and I’ll see it tonight in that place we both know so well. This time, I’ll make sure you don’t ruin it. Maybe I’ll make you watch, too, for pointers and all that.”
I grin even though my jaw clenches.
Well played, fiancée.
But does she think I would mind having some older man touch her, bringing her to orgasm by just teasing her nipples and watching her face flushing as she trembles all over?
I don’t care.
Fuck — I do care.
Why the fuck do I care?
I’m about to stop Claire when Teal barges towards us. It’s like that night when she jumped me in a second. A knee-jerk reaction.
She grabs Claire by the hair and pulls her back. The girl shrieks as she falls on her arse. “What the —”
“Leave.” Teal glares down at her.
“No, you leave, you freak.” Claire rises to her feet, about to attack her.
Teal stops her with a hand to her face. I don’t know how she does it, but she appears normal even though her body is shaking with rage or agitation — or both. It’s like her face can’t catch up with her emotions.
She pushes her out of the closet, throws her jacket after her, and slams the door shut in her face, cutting off all Claire’s shrieks and protests.
When she faces me again, the blankness is still there, but her hands are balled into fists by her sides.
“There goes my BJ for the day.” I keep my voice light-hearted. “Did you kick Claire out to finish the job?”
“Dream. On.”
“Aw, you’ve never given head before? I can help with that.” I point in front of me. “The first step is to get on your knees.”
She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Oh, wait.” My lips curve in a smirk. “You like pain with that, too?”
She says nothing.
I button my trousers back, and she watches the movement as if my dick will jump on her or something.
Truth be told, he does want to do that.
“If you didn’t plan to take Claire’s place, why did you kick her out?”
Her eyes harden, but she huffs and looks the other way.
“Huh. Is it because—”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I approach her until once again she’s against a surface and I’m towering over her.
I’m starting to like this position, maybe even love it.
She seems to realise this fact as well since her nails dig into her arms.
Teal doesn’t back away though. She has this adorable habit of glaring even when she’s cornered.
There’s so much fight in her, and I want to explore it inch by agonising inch then maybe break it.
Definitely break it, so I can see what’s behind it.
“All I know is,” she says in a neutral voice, “if you do that again, I’ll also be having people go down on me in front of you. I’m your fiancée, and that makes me your equal, not your toy. If you disrespect me in front of other people, I’ll do the same.”
I smile, but there’s no humour behind it. “What makes you think I care?”
“Then continue. By all means, let’s see who’s the biggest exhibitionist between the two of us. For the record, I never lose.”
Fuck. This girl.
“You’re not going to La Débauche tonight.” Or ever, for that matter, but that’s for another day.
“Why not?” she taunts. “I can have someone strip me as I get on my knees for him. I feel like recreating the scene from just now.”
I grab her by her nape and she stills, her breath hitching. Fuck me, just one touch and she’s already this responsive.
What would it be like if I pinned her down and ate her out like she’s my last meal? Or better yet, if I fucked her without holding back, like I’ve always wanted?
“L-Let me go.”
“You might want to make that a bit more convincing,” I whisper.
“Ronan…”
“Oui, ma belle?”
“If you don’t let me go—”
“What? You’ll leave another love bite like the one on my lip?” I tap the slight cut that’s slowly healing.
Her gaze follows my finger and she swallows, her breaths crackling in the silence of the closet.
“Does it turn you on to know you hurt me?”
“What? No.” Her voice is the lowest I’ve ever heard.
My little crazy beauty.
“Then is it the prospect of being hurt in return?” My finger traces up and down the skin of her nape, and that’s when I feel the shiver that overtakes her.
When she says nothing, I lean in to whisper, “You don’t have to hide your crazy from me, ma belle. Show it, and I promise to feast on it.”
She shoves me away, her cheeks turning red. I chuckle as she opens the door and bolts outside.
“You have a week to break off the engagement,” I call after her in my charming tone.
She doesn’t turn back and runs to the nearest exit.
This is the second time she’s run away from me, but there won’t be a third.
