Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 80: Chapter 80

Vivian’s POV
“Don’t you have something better to do than stalk me from the bushes?” Ric’s voice was sharp, but not cruel. Just tired. He didn’t turn around.
I stepped out, brushing my skirt. “Such wonderful instincts you’ve got,” I said lightly, strolling into the open. “But I’m not surprised. Not just anyone could stand behind the King.”
Ric sighed. “Vivian,” he said, like a warning. “What do you want?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that lately.” I stopped just short of the fountain, watching the way water splashed violently against the basin. “Even when I explain, they never seem to understand it. So with you, I’m trying a new strategy.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t look at me.
“Save the performance,” he muttered. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”
That made something tighten in my chest.
“Bullshit? That’s rich coming from you. Tell me—do you bark like that with everyone, or just the ones who make your chest tight?”
“Vivian.”
One word. Flat. Warning.
“Just leave me alone.”
I bit down on my lip, heat curling in my belly. There was something about him like this, frustrated, stormy, raw…that pulled me in with more force than I cared to admit. Ric, for all his brooding and sharp words, had always been the one I couldn’t get under. And that made me want him more now.
So much more.
“I would,” I said, stepping closer, “if I could. But seeing you like this just makes me want to understand more. Come on, Ric. Talk to me. Tell me what happened?”
I sat beside him.
“Nothing happened,” he said. Then, a little sharper: “And even if it did, it’s not your business.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I smirked, shifting to face him. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, remember? If anyone gets to poke at that frown on your face, it’s me.”
He scoffed, still not looking at me. “You barely spoke to me back then. The only time you did was when Lance was around.”
“So you were paying attention.”
That got him. His eyes cut to mine, annoyed.
“I wasn't.”
That might have encouraged me. “I’m just reminding you I did notice you. And you know it. I was a different person back then, just like you were. Time changes people.”
“So what, I’m just supposed to believe you’re suddenly kind now?” he muttered.
I laughed—soft, low. “Was I never kind?”
Ric gave a humorless snort. “If you were, you had the strangest way of showing it.”
“See?” I nudged him lightly. “That was a laugh. I’m already making you feel better. You’re welcome.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” he said.
“No,” I agreed. “But it softens the edge.”
He stayed silent, so I said plainly. “You’re pissed because the King brought someone else in to dig into Landon.”
His eyes snapped to mine.
“What—you knew?” He stood suddenly, fury rising.
“Oh relax,” I said, standing too. “Why don’t you just listen for once? I went to check on Lance because I heard he wasn’t feeling well. He told me everything. I didn’t help him arrange shit.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“I followed you because you looked like hell when you left his study. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said stiffly.
“No, you’re not.”
I stepped in front of him. Close enough that he had to see me. Really see me. “Ric,” I whispered, reaching for his hand. He didn’t stop me. I guided his hand to rest gently on my chest—right above my racing heart. A silent offer. A plea.
He stared down at the contact, muscles tightening beneath his sleeves.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low and uneven.
I didn’t answer. I just pressed his palm flat against me, made them squeeze my breast. My skin prickled. His heat was everywhere now.
“Vivian,” he growled. “Stop. What are you doing?”
“Trying to get through our traumas,” I said, almost a whisper.
He blinked. “What?”
I leaned in, closing the space. “You’re hurting. So am I. We don’t have to keep pretending.”
He pulled away from me like I’d slapped him. Shook his head. “Well, congratulations.” He turned from me. “You’ve seen me.”
“Ric?” I walked after him as he stalked across the garden like the air itself offended him, straight into the narrow outbuilding tucked behind the palace. I slipped in behind him.
He turned on me, eyes wild. “Why are you following me?” he snapped. “We can’t be doing this.”
“Why not?” I said, watching him. My voice didn’t rise, but it curved. “What are you scared of? The King?” I stepped forward. Grabbed his arm—halting his pacing—fingers digging into the sleeve of his jacket. “You’re not scared of Lance. So what is it? Me?”
He turned away again, but I grabbed the front of his jacket—dragged him back—and slammed him against the nearest pillar.
“I’m not scared!” he growled, hands balling into fists.
My face was inches from his. My breath shallow now, matching his.
“But what?” I pushed, voice low. “You know you want me. You always have. How you’ve managed to bury that hunger this long…” I tilted my head, dragged my lips across his jaw without touching. “You should be applauded for it.”
He was breathing hard now. The heat between us tightened like a snare.
“I don’t want to be a fool beside you.”
Fuck him.
“You’re not a fool,” I whispered. “You never have been. You’ve just been starving. And pretending not to be.”
His gaze snapped to mine. Something feral burned behind his eyes. “Do you really want this, Vivian?”
That was the last word spoken before I kissed him. I yanked him down and crushed my mouth to his. For a moment, all I felt was the press of his body, the tension locked in every shuddering muscle beneath my palms. I kissed him with my eyes open, watched his eyes widen in surprise—even disbelief—as I answered him.
Then I pulled back, smirking, dragging my fingers down the front of his jacket.
But I didn’t even get the chance to walk away this time.
Ric snapped.
He grabbed me by the waist and threw me into the wall.
The slam of stone against my back stole my breath—my laugh caught somewhere between shock and a gasp. He was already there, on me. All of him, pressed tight and consuming.
His mouth crushed mine, no hesitation now. It was heat and teeth and fury, his tongue pushing past my lips, owning every inch of my mouth like it owed him something. A hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back as his mouth ravaged mine, rough. His other hand gripped my hip, hard enough to bruise, grinding me into the cold wall with his full weight.
And I moaned into it—because (fuck!) this was what I wanted. The hunger. The fire. The storm in him that I’d never been able to reach until now.
“Still think I’m scared?” he hissed against my neck, his breath hot, tongue flicking the skin beneath my jaw before he bit down—hard.
I gasped, fingers scrambling to pull his jacket off.
He tore it off himself, hands already sliding beneath the hem of my blouse, pushing the fabric up, over, off.
“You drive me insane,” he said through clenched teeth. “You crawl under my skin, you live there—damn you.”
I dragged his mouth back to mine, biting his bottom lip just to feel the growl that ripped through his chest. He shoved my thighs apart with his knee, forcing me higher against the wall. I locked my legs around his hips, gripping his hair, dragging his mouth back down.
Ffff—ffuck! Yes!
Ric’s hands found the waistband of my skirt and yanked it down roughly, knuckles grazing my skin as he pressed a hand between my thighs. My head hit the wall with a soft thud when he touched me, fingers slipping against heat and slickness I didn’t bother hiding.
“You’ve been wanting this,” he growled. “Coming out here like a bitch in heat—chasing after me.”
I didn’t deny it.
I arched into him, nails scraping his shoulders. “Do something about it then.”
That was all it took.
He didn’t give me another second to breathe.
Ric spun me around, shoved me hard against the wall, my cheek pressed to cool stone. His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to whisper into my ear, “You asked for this.”
And then he tore what was left of my underwear down, shoving his trousers just far enough.
The first thrust knocked the air out of my lungs.
Hard and deep and unforgiving.
I gasped, one hand slapping the wall, the other trying to brace myself. He didn’t let me settle. Another thrust. And another—each one rougher than the last. The rhythm was brutal and merciless.
“Still smart-mouthing now, Vivian?” he hissed.
I choked on a moan, too breathless to fire back.
Every sound I made, every twitch of my body, just made him rougher—like he wanted to break me. And I let him. Fuck, I let him!
The room was filled with the slap of skin, the hiss of breath, the wild, wet sound of him plunging into me over and over.
I was unraveling fast. Tension coiling tighter, fire licking up my spine. My hands clawed at the stone, desperate for something to anchor me but he was all there was.
Ric grunted into my shoulder. “Say it.”
“W-what?”
“Say you wanted this.”
I whimpered, biting my lip.
He slammed into me harder.
“Say. It.”
“Yes!” I cried. “I wanted this. Fuck! I want you!”
“Good,” he snarled. “Because this is all your doing.”
He grabbed both my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head. I felt him bend, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear.
“I should hate you,” he said, almost too quiet, but rough.
“I think you do,” I whispered.
His hips slammed forward once more—and I shattered.
Everything exploded.