Here Lies a Saint: A Dark Bully Academy Romance Page 11

  He eyes me casually, and as if something breaks, he rushes me. Fingers clutch my jaw, harsh and unforgiving, forcing me to stare only at him.

  "You're not hers," he all but spits. His voice dropped low, husky, filled to the brim with possessiveness. If not for our current predicament, I would find it sexy, irresistible, but he's pissed, my life is over, and we're stuck in a fucking box where no doors exist.

  "I am now," I croak, feeling the morsel of myself I've stowed away plead for something it can't have. A family. Love. Someone who cares.

  He grabs the back of my neck, his palm tight and heavy against my skin. Pulling me within tasting distance, he breathlessly speaks words against my lips. "You never fucking were. That hasn't changed."

  His mouth slams against mine, his kiss demanding, angry. Our needs mingle as we growl against each other for more.

  We make it to my bed, him boxing in like he always enjoys doing. My cock already aches, throbbing from all of our unfinished business. Now, he can't avoid me. They aren't here. She's not injured, and I'm running out of time.

  Our mouths devour. They bite, and they clash with each strike of our tongues. He lifts off of me, taking off his shirt, and fuck, seeing him shirtless from afar versus up close and personal is like night and day. Glorious doesn't begin to explain Lux's body.

  He's muscle upon muscle, driven simply by masculinity. I stare, watching him remove his pants effortlessly. Nearly naked, I can see his dick tenting the smooth fabric of his designer underwear.

  "We only fuck on one condition," he sounds out, sauntering toward me.

  I smirk at him, knowing he's going to ask me to bottom, which isn't unappealing, but I've never been with a man, and being with one only scares me when Lux isn't part of the equation.

  "What's that?" I taunt, leaning backward, folding my arms above my head. It's fake. The relaxation isn't there, not existing in this moment when he's nearly naked about to fuck me.

  "I want to face you when you fuck me," he admits, biting his lip, almost nervous.

  "You want me to fuck you?" I ask, not understanding.

  He was so adamant to never let anyone inside him but Max. Facing him was never a question. Fucking him from behind seemed emotionless, impersonal. When my cock is buried deep, I want to see him moan for me. Each gasp that leaves his lips, I want to experience. Every curse, name, and plea he gives, I want to reach for them and taste them.

  He nods shyly, his face a bit red. Sitting up, I reach for him then, needing to touch him anywhere. When our skin makes contact, whether it's in a brutal kiss or an aggressive push, it feels so fucking intoxicating to me.

  "Don't hide from me, Lennox. There are no judgements here," I whisper against his jaw, so close to his ear. Licking a small path from the bottom to the top of his earlobe, I bite, receiving a muffled curse. "Now, undress me," I demand.

  He goes for my sweater, tracing my Adonis belt before lifting the material. Unlike how I thought this would be, he's slow at the removal, as if savoring each new sight.

  "So fucking hot," he rasps. "Hate it."

  "No you don't," I tease, forcing his hazel eyes to meet mine. "You love each inch."

  He smirks, his left eyebrow rising. "How many are there?" he baits.

  "Didn't you watch me fuck Colt?"

  "I was paying attention to her pleasure," he admits. Then, he narrows his eyes at me. "You were a dick, and not paying you attention was your punishment.”

  A chuckle leaves me. I was so pissed when he didn’t offer to suck me off. It's all I could think about. I wanted him to fuck Colt and suck me off while I kneeled above them both.

  "You won. I'd have killed someone to have you touch me," I confess. Admittedly, I'd still do that, but I knew this was different.

  We were fucking.

  No doubt about it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lennox

  Seething rage fueled me here. It geared me up for this moment. Thick and heady lust is all I feel now. My head is a mess.

  Save Jordan.

  Save Colt.

  Fix everything.

  Don't lose anyone else.

  All I can concentrate on is all the people who keep leaving me. They don't even get a say in the matter. They disappear. They die. They leave willingly.

  Jordan is doing both and none at all.

  He has no choice, but he's willingly taking that spot. His abandoning me makes me rage, urges me to fuck sense into him, begs me to find a way to keep him.

  He's ours, the selfish organ in my torso rages, pounding its nonexistent chest with acrimony. It seethes, needing to spill blood, and fuck, its tastes were for Jordan specifically.

  My fingers touch his skin, bare, hot, all male. It's addicting, grazing him anywhere. Whether it be my teeth, my tongue, my cock... I'm not picky as long as it's him and I.

  After his shirt and pants are gone, I'm desperate to take his boxers off of him. They're satiny, smooth, offering me every wild fantasy I've ever had of seeing him nearly naked.

  "Lube?" I ask, wondering if he has it.

  A rueful smile greets me, and I pray he's never fucked a dude. He's well versed in sexing me enough as is, but thinking of him with someone else, ever, has that green monster inside me ravenous to mark him in every way possible.

  He hands me a bottle.

  It's still sealed.

  Fuck.

  "Planned ahead," he husks.

  When our eyes meet, I'm mesmerized by the hunger in his. He's staring at me as if I'm a ten-thousand-dollar steak, and that makes all my worry disintegrate.

  "You're such a dick," I mutter halfheartedly.

  "You're psyching yourself out, Lux."

  Lux. I groan when he calls me that. He seldomly offers me my nickname, the one my father doesn't use. My dick rehardens as the thought of him calling me that while buried inside me comes to mind.

  "Let me distract you."

  I swallow.

  He grips my hips, his thumbs digging deep. “On the bed,” he rasps.

  The grit to his voice has my dick leaking for him. Before I get up, he removes my bottoms and smacks my ass, forcing me onto the bed.

  I'm on my knees, my heart racing, and I hear nothing. I tremble a bit before he slides his palms up my ass. He kneads my cheeks, his thumb tracing and digging with each stroke.

  "W-what are you..." I trail off as I feel it. Him. His mouth licks my left cheek then trails to my right. He wanders to my balls, laving at them as air barely leaves me.

  I forgot how to breathe and the anticipation of what we're about to do assaults me, but he's right. It's a distraction.

  I'm only thinking about him.

  His mouth.

  The ache in my balls.

  My hard as fuck dick.

  "Did he ever rim you?" Jordan demands suddenly.

  I shiver at the tone of his voice. It's possessive, animalistic, and greedy.

  "No," I barely breathe. I've watched porn on this, both male and female, and the thought of having him in my most intimate place scares me.

  Instead of a response, he grunts, and then I feel him there. His tongue flicks against me, the sensation causing my balls to tingle.

  I've always bottomed for Maxim, and this feels different. What we had was sex. I'd fallen for him, always wanting more, but my body was the only thing he craved. He never worried about my pleasure, only his own.

  When Jordan plunges inside my hole, I groan loudly. My body shivers at the invasion, not used to the stirring from my nerve endings. His hand glides down, palming my sac, rolling my balls aggressively. I shake as his tongue works harder at me. It's the most depraved mixture, and I can't handle the way my body bends for him.

  Wanting more but also wanting to resist, I hiss, not knowing what to do or say.

  "Distracted enough?"

  His goading works because I let out a low growl.

  "If you don't fuck me, I'm going to come before we do anything."

  "We've already done things, Lux. I'm
fucking your ass with my tongue, and I'm about to do it with my cock."

  I grip the sheets beneath me.

  He smacks my ass. "Now flip over so I can watch your face when you explode."

  Moving to my back, he stares at me with rapt attention, giving me every ounce of his attention. He slides down the bed, licking a path down to my dick. His tongue flicks over the head, tasting precum, I'm sure. Lust, full and heady, overwhelms me as he sucks the tip into his mouth, teasing me.

  "You're so fucking hot when you lose control," he mentions, his eyes on mine.

  He lifts my thighs, placing one above his shoulder. Like this, I feel exposed. No less than when his tongue was at my ass but no less intimate either. Now, he's face to face with me, imploring, sharing a part of himself.

  "Do I need to dominate you, Lux? Force you? Degrade you? Do you need me to fuck you harshly?"

  My cock throbs at his words, and as if taking that as acceptance, he spreads me wide. I flinch, wanting to close my legs.

  He slaps them. "Keep them open, or I'll tie up your dick."

  I cringe, knowing exactly what he's talking about. There's a bow we can do. It'll stave off my orgasm, and I'm not that much of a masochist.

  "Good, passerotto," he praises.

  If we weren't ready to fuck, I'd ask him why he calls me that, but punishment isn't my favorite, and my cock hurts too much to risk it.

  With the lube bottle in his hand, he wets his fingers. Instead of going straight for my entrance, he toys with my balls then traces his fingers down to my hole. He slowly starts entering me and reaches down to lick my tip. I growl with the duel sensation, but I can't look away from his dark locks. The need to grab a fistful of them and force him to choke on me is potent, bringing me near delirium with desire.

  One finger turns into two, and by the third, his eyes are nearly black, losing their charming navy hue with licentiousness.

  "Fuck me already," I mostly beg, partially demand, needing something.

  He tsks at me, his face alight with humor. "Greedy, even when you're beneath me."

  "If you don't hurry up, I'll be the one fucking you," I hiss, my body humming with anticipation.

  He hovers over me now, his massive dick heavily bobbing. He lines it up with me, forcing me to be exposed to him in every way.

  "I'll be the one fucking, Lux, and when you're at the height of your desire, you're going to scream to my name. Do you understand?"

  I nod frantically, needing him to thrust into me so I can breathe again. Wanting the heat between us is easy. Successfully getting it, that's the scary part.

  He slams into me in one ruthless shove. The stretching is a painful pinch, but I've missed it so much. Him inside me without barriers is as addicting as the act itself.

  "Fuck!" he grunts, fully seated inside me. "I've never fucked raw."

  I look at him at that, seeing the honesty there.

  "Need to move."

  He grips my throat and starts undulating. Lifting my hips to match his movement, I can't help the noises leaving my mouth in fervor. He's so fucking huge, and I feel as if I'm splitting. With his other hand, he circles the head of my cock.

  I watch in fascination as a string of his spit travels down my length. He hisses as I squeeze him, the anticipation of him tugging me making me impatient.

  His hand rubs his saliva all over, wetting me entirely. A little hiss of air leaves me as he fists my length, working me over and rutting into me at the same time. He goes with the pace of his cock inside me, making me feel every fuck, while hitting my prostate with each rotation of his hips.

  "Jordan." I gasp as my balls tighten. "Need to come."

  Our glazed gazes catch, and he fucks into me harder. "Say my name, Lux. Give me your come." He picks up his pace, and a tingling sensation goes up my balls to my spine, and I roar his name as milky spurts leave me. With each ribbon, I clench around him, and soon after everything leaves me, he's grunting my name, bucking into me with abandon.

  He lets my throat go, and the lack of oxygen actually has me lightheaded. Practically falling on top of me, his lips meet mine passionately. Our sweat mingles, and my body hums with satisfaction.

  "Fuck," he says sedately.

  "Next time, I want to try blood play," I mutter shamelessly.

  He rolls to his side, looking at me with intention. "Only if it's your blood."

  "Is that a bet?"

  "It's a I'm not a vampire, but want to try everything with you bet."

  Hope festers inside me. "Does that mean you're not going to fuck her and produce heirs?"

  His face falls as if everything he'd hoped for just crashed into the ocean from the cliff he resided on. Then he looks at me with a fight I watched melt away from him.

  "You're mine now, Lux. You and Colt, you're worth fighting for."

  I stare at the guy I'd spent most of the last year and a half hating, seeing him for the first time. "If you touch her, I'll fuck you up," I muster, not wanting to stare at his face too long.

  Catching feelings before they're offered is a toxic trait I've always had. With him, I'm not ready to dive deep.

  "Someone's possessive," he mocks.

  Predatory jealousy slams into me, pushing me to tug his throat to the side, exposing it. I lick and suck, lick and suck, and when he's grinding into me, I know I've worked him up enough to fool around again.

  But what's the best part of it all is the mark I've left on his throat for all to see. He's mine, and if I have to put a new one on his skin every goddamn day so everyone understands it, I will.

  Fucking in secret is hard.

  Fucking in secret while being a founder’s kid is harder.

  Fucking in secret as someone with my bloodline and with someone who's marrying another is deadly.

  I hope we know what game we're playing because either way, we're in for hell.

  "Mine," I rumble, kissing him once more. "Better hurry and shower. They're going to flip their shit when they see us on the feeds tonight.” When he cringes, I laugh. "Don't act like you don't enjoy watching everyone fuck Colt. Even I do, and I hate most of these dicks."

  "Don't want them to fuck you," he enunciates, hauling me in for another heated makeout session. "I mean it."

  "Not even Justice?" I taunt, thinking of his lips and how they felt. Fuck, he's a good kisser too.

  "Especially not him," he growls, his face morphing into one of protectiveness. "I don't trust him."

  "Me either," I agree.

  Almost silently, we head to the shower and hope no random visitors catch us. We're playing a stupid, stupid game.

  Either one of us dies, or we both do. There's no way to rig the game where we both win.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Colt

  Who announces a wedding at a school function? There's something about the fucking Arcadia families that grate on my soul, gnawing like a bunch of hungry rats in an alley.

  When my feet hit the stage, my stomach drops, and I feel miserable and empty with realization. They picked me for some bullshit foundational lie, an internship. Not only is it one I never signed up for, I don't even know what it entails, and that alone is a terrifying thought.

  Everyone screams, and I must've zoned out because Elijah Edgington pulls me into an awkward embrace. Friendly, too much so. It doesn't even match his scary face or horrible features. There's too much animosity hidden in his stare, a chilling type of monstrosity I'm no doubt going to experience.

  Edgington & Estates. I roll the name over my tongue and come up blank. They're a founding family. That much I gathered from the file, but it didn't tell me enough in the quick glance I got for me to be able to know what the fuck their business is.

  Hudsons are diamonds.

  Kranes are oil.

  McAllisters are in the music industry.

  DeLeons are big business, financial, stock market, and they're all government officials, too.

  Dellamores are airplanes, airspace in general.

  Clemon
tes are said to be in the acquiring business—fine arts, lost treasure, and heirlooms.

  Now, I need to know what Jordan's family does. Then, I can properly prepare for my fate.

  When his grip on my shoulder tightens, digging too harshly, painfully so, I come back. Everyone's leaving, and I've somehow already numbed myself to my future, one where fighting seems too exhausting, blood seems to be too inviting, and dying seems to be too promising.

  "Smile, Miss Hudson. They're watching you, and if you fuck this up for me more than my insolent son has, I'll make you wish you'd be reunited with your brother."

  The words leave him in a hiss, and my breath follows with a whoosh, making me dizzy. It takes me back to the texts, the single note, all the warnings I've been given to stay away, but of course, spite has always been a driving force for me, pushing me to the envelope for answers.

  Maybe this is mine.

  "Fuck you," I whisper.

  It's so quiet that I almost think he hasn't heard me, but then his grip practically strangles the skin of my forearm.

  "This time can fly by, Colton, or it can be your worst fucking nightmare. Don't test me."

  I twist, forcing him to let me go. Peering up at Jordan's father, I see the similarities, but they nearly stop at the eyes and lips. The haunting way his father looks through me as if I'm a meat suit and not a girl with a soul isn't lost on me. If anyone cared or paid attention, they would see my slight tremble, the discomfort filling my body to the brim, and the anxiety that's turned into pure torment to my mind.

  "Colt!" Moms yells happily. Her cheerful voice is bright and not fearful about the position I'm in.

  They say your parents are your protectors, the ones who save you, cherish you, and love you endlessly. Did they forget to gift mine with that care and reasoning? Was there a mix-up when their souls were delivered into their bodies?

  Standing here, seeing them, I'm at a loss as to what they could possibly offer me other than pain. Cassidy was my safety, my care, my protector. He's gone, and all the things he did to keep me from falling no longer exists.

  Why couldn't it have been me, Cass?

  I think of the last moment I'd felt safe in ages. It was in our bunker, stuffed with his memory, my blade, and the soothing words my mind conjured.