Here Lies a Saint: A Dark Bully Academy Romance Read online

  More kisses.

  More bites.

  More pressure.

  The absolute yearning to have him in me is drowning, and the way Pru continues to thrust into my mouth has me a teary mess.

  "Fuck her, Just. She's desperate for it," Pru suggests, and that has me wanting to pleasure him more. I suck harder, swirling my tongue all around him, making sure to focus on his head. "Goddamn it, princess. That's a good girl."

  His praise lights me up inside, making me want to please them both so much.

  Just thrusts into me in one quick move, making me gag over Pru's length. When they get to a speed together, I'm filled and a mess of moans and cries.

  "Going to cum," Pru pants, his hips becoming jerky. I swirl my venom piercings on the underside of his cock, and he's done for, grunting his release loudly. "Such a good girl, princess. Take all my cum."

  And I do. I swallow every drop and keep licking him like a melting popsicle, making sure I don't leave anything behind.

  He bends down and kisses me as his brother fucks into me from behind.

  "Fuck, yeah. Squeeze my cock just like that, sweetheart."

  I flex and cry out as Just’s fingers bite into my hips. He's savage and relentless as he pounds into me. Pru's mouth owns mine all while his brother beats into me like a man on a desperate mission of release.

  "Going to fill you up, Colt."

  I nod against Pru's mouth as Just jerks a couple more times, releasing his hot warmth into me. It's filling me to the brim, and I can't help but to sigh in contented relief as he finishes.

  When he pulls out, I fall flat, exhaustion hitting me immediately.

  While they were the perfect distraction, even they have lives they'll have to go home to, and I can't stop thinking about how far I'll fall when they inevitably leave.

  All the people I love always leave.

  It's my curse.

  My burden.

  It's what will forever break me in the end.

  Chapter Six

  Lennox

  Jealousy is a disgusting flaw in humanity.

  Sitting here, knowing she's with those two, makes my blood boil. It's like an itch beneath my skin, flagellating until fury is the only emotion left inside.

  "You pining?" Ross mutters, putting a bag of peas to his busted lip. He's angry. It's obvious every guy here is.

  Colt has a way of owning each one of us. At first, all I wanted was for her to choose. How could she possibly have feelings for all of us? And now two more...

  But the more time I spend with these fucks, I can understand her needs. We all offer something.

  Not sure what it is I offer, but I'm sure it's something.

  "You're not?" I rebuke, wondering if he'll be honest since I sure as shit am bad at it.

  "No, I am. I'm just wondering why the fuck I'm even staying away from her."

  A derisive laugh bubbles from me, making me laugh maniacally. I'm fucking losing it.

  "It wasn't funny, dude."

  When I peer back at him, he's annoyed. The pinch between his eyebrows is enough explanation.

  "I'm aware," I reply. "It's just ironic. How much we sacrifice for her. Knowing she could become Yang at any point. Hell, I don't trust half of you fucks."

  He nods knowingly. "Ditto."

  "Yet we stick together?"

  It's rhetorical. No one is safe here. I want to believe none of these guys would willingly hurt Yang, but if you're given rules by him, your choices are nonexistent.

  "Do you really think any of us are capable?" he asks.

  "Do you think any of us truly has a choice?"

  The rebuttal slips free easily. Can anyone say otherwise? We're born with all the money we could ever desire, but we're also born without a single freedom. We live to please. We're produced to serve. We follow the rules.

  Or we die.

  "Did you really let her leave?" Ten butts in, his face filled with disdain. Out of us all, his emotions are always displayed across his chest as blatantly as his tattoos.

  "What was I supposed to do, Tennison? Hold her hostage?" I ask.

  "Yes!" he yells, his voice aggressive and unhinged. I always wondered what it'd take to make him lose it. Apparently, it was losing her. "I have to get her. They're not safe. They're—"

  "You need to fucking chill," Jordan bites out, his eyebrow raised, begging for bloodshed.

  And what about him? How could he fucking get involved with her? How could he sit here while they claimed her as theirs? How did he just sit like a fucking royal prince, waiting for the tools to screw themselves?

  "Why didn't you stop them?" Jordan points out with his own question.

  A sneer takes residence on his sculpted features, and it almost hurts to see. I fucking hate him, and for some reason, I still want him naked beneath me, and I hate that more.

  "You of all people know that there's no stopping them. Have you forgotten their last name? The weight it carries overshadows all of us combined. Without Cassidy here, we'd be fucked."

  "Don't act like you have leverage. What were you doing in Castelluccio for those years, Jordan? It's the tiniest little town. Not like there's much out there." The words come out as an accusation. I'm not supposed to be privy to his whereabouts when Maxim still lived here, but I searched for it when he arrived.

  I needed to know who was replacing the first guy I ever cared about.

  "God, piccolo, you're so adorable," Maxim muses, his eyes alight with warmth.

  He calls me his little one. It's emasculating to many men but not me. It's charming, just like he is.

  He leans into me, his nose brushing mine before his lips capture me entirely. I moan as he pushes me onto the grass. Heat flames me while he hovers my body. I'm aching everywhere, wanting him. He's the first guy I've ever had feelings for.

  Joyous, unbreakable love. That's what Maxamillion Edgington offers me.

  Shaking my head free of the one person who saved and abandoned me all at once, I feel a weight in my chest.

  I didn't notice, but Jordan closed the distance between us, his face sour and full of distaste. "Don't act like you didn't wish I'd have stayed there. If I had, you wouldn't be wound tight over a girl. It'd be over a man you'd never be able to love in the open," he all but yells.

  He grips my shirt, his face so fucking close I can practically taste the hatred from him.

  "Guys, if you're going to fuck, at least let me get lube first," Ross jokes, behind his humor is pain. So much fucking pain.

  He's right though. We're on the verge of something that we'd regret.

  When I peer at Ross, I see the same interest there, it’s clouded with disappointment too. It's not the first time he's seen this. He used to watch as me and Ten double-teamed, and I'd watch and control when he and Ten did the same. But never us. Not together.

  It's not news we've shared.

  It's not news they've wanted to test more.

  It's not news I want it too.

  But I'll be damned if I risk my life on someone else again. No matter how good it could feel. We're Emeralds. Love doesn't equate heirs for our lineage.

  "Fuck off, Ross," I growl, hating this tension between Jordan. It's not even because hatred is draining—it is—but it's fucking exhausting hating the brother of someone I trusted wholeheartedly.

  This guy, his replacement, I don't trust.

  If my life were in danger and he was the only one able to save me, I believe he would send me to my death.

  "So, we're just going to avoid the topic of Colt fucking the twins? Cool, cool," Tennison practically spits, grumbling his entire way out of the room.

  Knowing him, I push Jordan from my face and follow. "Don't do anything stupid, Tennison."

  "As stupid as you and Jordan fucking her?" he challenges, and I can't hide my flinch. "What? Didn't think we'd all watch the feeds, Lux? We watched."

  "Don't be jealous. You had her first," I weakly argue.

  That does him in. Ten practically runs to me
, his face morphing into barely abated hatred. "I may have taken her virginity, but we've all been in this stupid fucking battle since day one. Who wins, Lux? It sure as hell isn't us."

  Anger takes refuge in my chest. Will she ever pick? Are the twins that choice? The simmering green monster inside me rages. Ten's right, and I'm not going to take it lying down.

  Moving around Tennison, I don't respond as I leave the tower.

  "Where are you going?" he asks.

  "To get fucking answers," I bark back, not looking back at him.

  I charge toward Ivory and let my shoulders relax when I notice none of them followed me. It's morning. School should be in session by now. Yang's death won't stop a single thing. If anyone is even aware it happened. With it being morning, the doors will be accessible. I don't stop at the information desk. I don't even take the elevator.

  She's in room twenty-two on the sixth floor.

  I take the stairs quickly, almost pushing too hard. Anger—much like fear—drives humans to outdo their normal.

  When I make it to her door, I'm slightly flushed, but that could also have to do with my hatred for what's happening behind this door.

  Fuck them.

  Pulling out my wallet, I take out my secret key. All Student Gov members have one. We aren't meant to abuse them, but we've never been one for rules.

  Especially when it comes to Corpse.

  The smack of the plastic against the scanner sounds noisily in my already vibrating ears. That's what happens when adrenaline slices through you at a constant upbeat. The beat frantically makes itself known throughout your system.

  Green.

  My palm nearly shakes as I turn the handle. Half expecting them to be on the couch, fucking the day away, I am pleasantly surprised to not see them.

  But fuck, I hear them.

  Colt's loud moans ricochet off the walls, swimming through my veins like fucking acid. The nearly physical pain that digs into me at the sound has anger propelling me forward. Against my mind's disgust, my dick hardens in my slacks. Not even eight hours ago, my dick was deep in Jordan's throat. And fuck, the cum he spit against my throat is dried and caked on my shoulder and chest still.

  Luckily, before the twins showed up, I adjusted my shit, but even if I hadn’t, Corpse's jealousy would have been stunning across her face.

  With less than eager steps, I go to her room in the far back. The door lays mostly open, and I see them. Colt is on her knees as Justice takes her from behind. His ass flexes fiercely as he pounds into her, and fuck, he has a nice ass. My gaze goes to Prudence, his eyes closed as he thrusts into her throat, treating her as if fucking her mouth is his only duty in life.

  “Going to cum,” Prudence warns, his eyes finally opening. He sees me and smirks. “Such a good girl, princess. Take all my cum.” He pulls out of her mouth, his release lightly spilling from her lips as she tries swallowing it all.

  Then, he's leaning down, staring at me as he takes her mouth. And like the little fucking slut she is, she moans, and Justice receives pleasure from it. My cock literally aches for the scene in front of me. Jealousy, that cruel cunt of an emotion. still slices through my skin.

  "Fuck, yeah. Squeeze my cock just like that, sweetheart."

  Something in me breaks as he fills her to the brim. By the time he's pulled out and she's sagged against the bed, my contempt is fueling me.

  "Have a good fuck?" I hiss.

  Colt gasps, but the twins stare at each other with this malicious joy.

  They always wanted to win over me. Guess this is their chance.

  She lifts her bare ass up in the air, making my dick groan with heated scorn. Red and flushed with freshly fucked skin, she turns to me.

  "Lux," she begins, and then there's a hint of sadness.

  I expose my neck, wanting them to know who she's always belonged to. If not for our parents having a falling out, she'd be mine.

  I don't give a single fuck what Father says. She's mine. Always has been.

  "Thank you for reminding me what razorblades beneath my skin feels like, Corpse."

  Her face falls. Daring to glance back at me, she then looks at her arms.

  I know, I say with my eyes. I've always fucking known. Does she think she's the only one who takes the shiny metal to their flesh?

  She swallows and starts to stand.

  "Stay," I bite out, wanting nothing more than to fuck them out of her.

  She nearly flattens again, and the twins say nothing. They won't.

  "You two, move."

  Neither of them give fight.

  If Colt could be any more shocked, her jaw would lock up. It hangs agape, and she must know by now we're all acquainted. Not just with the way my face still burns from their brutality but the familiarity in the room that couldn't be erased even with fucking magic.

  "W-what are you doing?" she whispers, her lips puffy. The just-fucked look would be better on her if it was my doing and not theirs.

  "Marking my fucking territory," I snap, grabbing her ankle.

  She yelps as I drag her to the edge of the bed. She starts looking at the twins, silently asking them to stop me. When they don’t and I reach for her, her disappointment is obvious. The only thing stopping her from reaching out to them is my grip on her chin.

  Sliding my palm to her throat, I squeeze lightly. "Don't look at them. Only me."

  Her eyes widen, and she bites her lip with a nod.

  "Good little slut."

  I force my gaze away from hers to peer at the twins. They're sitting, smug, a possessiveness lingering in their expressions, but they know better than to interrupt. Their father might line the pockets of the depraved and dirty, but mine litters the world of the rich and famous.

  They don't truly want to stop me. Their amusement mixed with interest is obvious. Prudence might be less than happy. His fists are balled, and his eyes are narrowed, but his dick is growing.

  Coming back to my Vamp, the Corpse Bride to my fucked-up death nuptials, I notice her pout. She's worried. Good.

  "Tell me," I muse aloud, "did you tell them we exchanged blood?"

  She flinches, and I watch as they both growl a little. How cute.

  "Not once, but several times,” I add.

  Her eyelashes flutter as if lost in my favorite memory.

  I twirl my knife, my hand carefully practiced with the swipe of my blade, knowing exactly when to move my fingers and when to keep them steady.

  Colty's eyes glint as the sound of metal slides, successfully flicking it open.

  "Do you like knives, Colty?"

  Her aroused glance toward me is answer enough, but I want to hear the words.

  "Is your pussy wet, thinking of me pressing it against your skin?"

  A tiny noise escapes her lips, and I grin wildly. Everyone always asks why I carry a knife. The easy answer would be protection. Who wouldn't want to keep themselves safe? But it'd be a half-truth. Regardless of how many dicks deny it, half-truths are lies that are barely protected by semantics.

  The truth, or reality really, is... I cut.

  None of the guys know. They won't ever if I have anything to say about it. I carry this metal tool at all times because when the urge hits me, it really fucking hits me. The last desperate attempt of mine led to a gnarly scar on my thigh.

  Never again.

  "Will you..." she mutters, stopping herself from finishing her sentence.

  I place the flat side of it against her, knowing it wouldn't cut but also knowing it's a thrill can be as euphoric.

  Low and greedy, a hiss escapes her lips. "Cut me?"

  When I raise an eyebrow at her, she bites her lip, a nervous gesture, one I adore. Her barely-there baby blues gleam with wanton desperation, her silvery-blonde hair already a mess around her face. We've been kissing a lot lately. I want more, so much more, but she's not mine. She's ours, and we have rules.

  Moving the blade, I push her onto the plush grass. Her crop top squeezes her as she bends at an awkward ang
le, and the sight is to die for.

  "Tell me where, Colton. Be very fucking specific." It comes out a little crueler than intended, but it doesn't make me falter or her either, for that matter.

  She reaches the top of her shirt, dragging it over her stiff, rosy nipples, taunting me with her light eyes. Her thumb circles her areola, soft, almost reverent, distracting me. My dick aches in my pants. I'm sure it's her intention.

  After she's done teasing, her bubblegum pink nails draw the tiniest line at the swell of her breast. "Here, where only we can see it."

  The way she says that has me groaning with desperation. Of course I want that, but whether or not she knows all four of us know about her rendezvous with all of us, they'll be seeing it too.

  A burning need to claim this little part of her rises inside me. I trace the back of the blade against her flat stomach, all the way to her breasts, and goosebumps flare across her skin. She takes loud inhales, sharp, all sinewy like her.

  "Don't move, sweetheart."

  Her face turns into a mixture of excitement and fear. It's endearing and inviting. I gently press the blade against her pale flesh. With direct and purposeful pressure, I slide, and my girl moans.

  Blood rises, and fuck, it's beautiful. I've always had a candid fascination with blood. My scars are answer enough. They're always hidden to the world. Beneath fancy suits, fake smiles, and blazers, I hide blissfully.

  But not from Colton Hudson.

  Never from Colton Hudson.

  My mouth waters in an odd way as I watch her face go through various shades of pleasure and interest. Calling to me, I listen. My tongue flattens against her chest, and I taste her.

  Her essence. Her livelihood. Her blood for mine.

  I break free of the memory, the first time I ever took her blood and let her take mine. It gives me all the ammunition I need for what's next. Reaching into my slacks, I grab the same blade we used on each other.

  When I flick it out, her eyes glint in that special way I know she saves for these moments. My girl is still my girl. Her yearning for our shared ritual is as vital as the pulse at her throat.

  "Promise me something, Vamp."

  She scrunches her nose but nods.

  "Promise that when the time comes for others to take your screams into their mouths, you'll keep our secrets."