Twisted Elites: A Dark Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Bully Boys of Brittas Academy Book 3)

by Sofia Daniel

  At least it explained the streaks of fluid across Ashley’s back.

  Leopold kept whispering in my ears and checking that I was handling everything, but I continued to nod, even though I just wanted to curl up and bury myself in the kings’ embrace.

  When Barrett finished his story, a few of the girls in the dining room cried. Even Mrs. Benazir sat with her head in her hands.

  Sebastian asked one last question. “Who attacked Ashley at the end of term?”

  “Bruce,” he whispered. “Ashley just wouldn’t go away.”

  Mrs. Benazir canceled classes for the rest of the day and told everyone to do their prep instead. Sebastian convinced a few of the students to email him their footage of Barrett’s confession, so he could send it to Mr. Pinkerton.

  For the rest of the day, I poured through my books, not holding out much hope for the evidence to free Prakash. The police seemed determined to hold him.

  That evening, partway through dinner, gasps filled the air, followed by applause. I whirled around to see the source of the commotion.

  Prakash stood at the door, looking tired but composed. He wore jeans and a white tee-shirt with a blazer that didn’t fit as well as his usual clothes.

  For a second, my heart stopped beating. Both Leopold and Sebastian froze. Then my heart flipped like a crepe, and I rushed to the door. The Kings overtook me by seconds, their broad backs obscuring my view of Prakash.

  Leopold reached him first, and they exchanged manly hugs. “It’s great to have you back!”

  Prakash grinned. “That’s an understatement!” His eyes softened when Sebastian stepped forward.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Sebastian.

  Prakash’s eyes glistened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Seb, I know how much you’ve sacrificed to help me, and I’ll pay back every penny.”

  Sebastian gave him a clap on the back that turned into a tight hug. “Nonsense, it’s what friends do.”

  The moment Sebastian drew away, leaving me standing in front of Prakash, everything stilled except for my clattering heart. I stared mesmerized by his fathomless, dark eyes, which glittered like faceted jet.

  Until this moment, I hadn’t been aware of how much I had missed him. I’d become accustomed to his quiet strength, his shy, admiring glances from across the table, and his presence at my side during Advanced Calculus.

  No matter how far I’d gone sexually with Leopold and Sebastian, I had missed Prakash’s presence. Now, with him standing before me, I finally felt complete.

  In a burst of movement, I wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling the scent of bergamot and wild grass. He was finally free, and he was here. His chest and the arms wrapped around my waist felt bulkier than usual, as though he had spent his free time pumping iron.

  “W-when did you get out?” I whispered into his ear.

  “At lunchtime.” He drew back and cupped my cheek, spreading warmth through my flesh and making me melt into his touch. “Mr. Pinkerton took me to the club to clean up and get a meal.”

  I rested my palms on his chest. “Are you alright? I was so worried—”

  He pressed a kiss on my lips, bringing with it a jolt of pleasure that halted all my thoughts. “This isn’t my first time in custody,” he murmured. “I knew what to expect and prepared my mind.”

  My heart pounded so hard, my ribs rattled with impatience. I wanted all of him. Wanted to taste more of his full lips. I leaned forward and brushed my mouth against his, reveling in the feel of the gorgeous boy I’d longed to see for weeks.

  “Guys?” said Leopold. “As much as I’m enjoying this reunion, we have an audience.”

  Prakash drew back from the kiss, and I turned around. Everyone in the dining room—including the teachers at the head table—stopped eating to stare. Mrs. Benazir strode toward us with her brows furrowed.

  Sebastian stepped through the doors into the hallway. “Let’s take this somewhere else, shall we?”

  Chapter 8

  Leopold and Sebastian remained at the dining room doors, blocking Mrs. Benazir from following Prakash. Maybe the wretched woman wanted to make him leave the premises. She had used the Board of Governors as an excuse to refuse his bail and keep him in the juvenile detention center.

  Prakash and I rushed through the hallway, our feet thudding on the parquet floors. My gaze lingered on his high cheekbones, strong jaw, and beautifully shaped lips. The entire effect was made magical by hair the color of ink.

  I looped my arm around Prakash’s thick bicep, enjoying his newfound bulk. Pushing away thoughts of bulging muscles encased in beautiful, dark skin, I picked up my pace to keep up with his strides. After spending weeks locked up, he’d probably just wanted to sit down and unwind with a cup of his Kashaayah special tea blend.

  As Mrs. Benazir’s screeching voice got closer, we ducked into the nearest stairwell and took the stairs two at a time. By the time we reached the fourth floor, my heart hammered against my ribs, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the climb.

  He opened the door to his room, ushered me in, and locked us inside, presumably in case the headmistress stormed up the stairs to make a fuss. When he turned around and fixed me with those glittering, ebony eyes and smiled with those full, sensual lips, my heart did a happy somersault.

  Prakash was finally free. The part of me that felt responsible for Ashley’s actions reminded me that his liberty was no thanks to me.

  “I’ve caused you so much trouble.” I rushed at him and wrapped my arms around his broad body. “And I’m so sorry for everything you’ve endured.”

  He drew back, holding me at arms’ length. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “My stubbornness.” It was a difficult thing to admit, but he had suffered so much, I had to force out the words. “Everyone told me to leave Brittas Academy, but I wouldn’t because I needed the bursary to pay for the upkeep of a house I barely use. And I unleashed my psychopathic sister onto you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  “The police would never have arrested me if I hadn’t gotten into trouble last year. This is my karma. Something I must suffer to atone for what I did to Corrine.”

  My nostrils flared. After hearing the passage Ashley read out where Corrine had likened the way they had started their relationship as rape, I’d been reluctant to read more of the dead girl’s ramblings. She had taken her revenge too far, just like Ashley had by poisoning Jarrett Riley and Bruce Wilmington.

  I couldn’t stand for Prakash to continue torturing himself when Corrine had punished him enough for his mistake. It reminded me too much of Sebastian’s guilt-motivated protection of Miss Claymore.

  “You didn’t kill Corrine,” I snapped.

  “I didn’t.” His brows drew together.

  “Then why do you speak like you should be punished in perpetuity?”

  He glanced away, but I held his jaw and turned his face back to force eye contact.

  “Have you seen the third years in this academy? They’re practically toddlers. If one of them made a mistake, would you want them to suffer for years afterward?”

  “Of course, not,” he replied, sounding utterly confused, “But—”

  “But nothing,” I said. “It’s time to forgive yourself and move on. I doubt that even Corrine would approve of Ashley’s actions.”

  He blew out a weary breath. “You make it all sound so easy.”

  I grabbed him around the back of the neck and pulled him down to my level. “Maybe you need me to kiss some sense into you.”

  “I’d like that very much.” He lowered his lips onto mine in a gentle caress that brought back memories of him standing above my hospital bed after having driven out into the mountains to search for me.

  My eyelids fluttered closed, and I relaxed into the kiss, each touch filling my chest with affection. This was the boy who had opened his heart to me and revealed his darkest secrets without fear of
judgment. He had trusted me with his past, just as I now trusted him with my heart.

  His strong arms crushed me against his chest until our hearts beat in unison. “Coming back to you was the only thing that kept me going in that place.”

  I moaned in response, and he slipped his tongue between my lips. One of my hands trailed down his muscular shoulder, down hard biceps, and across his back, where it settled onto a hard, muscular ass.

  Prakash drew back from the kiss, his eyes soft. “I needed that.”

  Warmth filled my soul, and my lips curved into a smile. “It’s so great to have you back.” I placed my hand on his chest. His heartbeat thrummed against my palm. “We tried to see you, but Mr. Pinkerton said only family could visit youths on remand. What was it like there?”

  He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “Not as bad as you’re imagining. Mrs. Benazir brought textbooks, so I could study, and there was a gym.”

  I bit down on my lip. “And the other prisoners?”

  Prakash shook his head. “Let’s not talk about that place. Will you stay with me tonight? I want to wrap my arms around you and sleep.”

  Blinking back my surprise, I suppressed a curl of disappointment in my belly. Maybe that place had ground him down more than he wanted to admit. I tried not to imagine the kinds of thugs and juvenile delinquents who occupied the detention center.

  In one of our conversations, Mr. Pinkerton had assured us that youth detention centers were nothing like a real prison and that Prakash would be among boys his age, but he was different.

  Prakash wasn’t a criminal or someone who squared up to other boys and played those games of dominance. At heart, he was a scholar, and he even shared most classes with us. The only difference between him and me was that his parents could afford to pay Brittas Academy’s exorbitant fees.

  I rocked forward on my tiptoes and pressed a quick peck on his lips. “Of course. Anything you need.”

  A knock on the door made us both still.

  “Mr. Kashaayah?” said Mrs. Benazir’s shrill voice.

  Prakash groaned. “I don’t want to talk to her tonight.”

  “He’s probably asleep,” said Sebastian from behind the door.

  “Have a heart, Miss,” added Leopold. “I can’t imagine the beds in prison being comfortable.”

  I glanced up at Prakash, who turned to the door, his eyes burning with hatred. If Prakash had family in England, the police would have released him into their custody while he awaited being charged. But he was utterly reliant on Mrs. Benazir, the woman entrusted to be his guardian. And she’d let him languish in that place, using the excuse of needing the Board of Governors’ clearance.

  “Out of my way,” said Mrs. Benazir. “Or—”

  “Or you’ll do what?” asked Sebastian.

  A silence stretched out for several moments. Prakash’s rapid heartbeat pounded against the hand I’d left on his chest.

  “She wants to expel me,” he whispered.

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I wrapped my arms around his middle and murmured. “Don’t let her in. If she sees me in your bedroom, she’ll use that as an excuse to get rid of you.”

  “Listen,” said Leopold. “My mother is on the Board of Governors, and I’ve kept her apprised of all the developments at the school. Bruce Wilmington attacked Ashley. No-one else.”

  “You shouldn’t have let an expelled student return as a cleaner,” said Sebastian.

  Behind the door, Mrs. Benazir spluttered. “I didn’t—”

  “How thoroughly do you check the backgrounds of new staff?” Sebastian asked. “Some of them have access to our bedrooms.”

  “I’d say you have bigger issues than a student returning from a juvenile detention center,” added Leopold.

  I wrapped my arms tighter around Prakash, closed my eyes, and inhaled his bergamot scent. The kings were right. She needed to focus on fixing student behavior and the security breaches and stop harassing a boy who just wanted to sleep.

  “Fine,” she snarled. “But I want to see him tomorrow in my office.”

  “We’ll deliver him personally,” said Sebastian.

  Prakash and I exhaled long sighs of relief.

  “She’s gone,” Leopold whispered through the door. “But we’ll stay alert in case she returns with a key.”

  “Thanks,” said Prakash.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for several moments, drinking each other in. Mrs. Benazir’s interruption had extinguished the desire that had burned within me moments ago.

  Weariness etched his handsome features. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but the incident with the headmistress had brought a strain around his eyes and tightness to his brow that hadn’t existed before.

  I longed to erase his worries, but I didn’t know how.

  Prakash cupped my cheeks and placed a soft kiss in the center of my forehead. “Thank you for standing by me.”

  “I’ll always watch out for you,” I murmured, “Just as you’ve watched out for me.”

  He lowered his lips onto mine in the gentlest of kisses and drew me into his chest. “Let’s go to bed.”

  The next morning, I awoke with my head resting in the crook of Prakash’s neck. Last night, he had hinted at a few things, some of them disturbing. Now, with the morning light streaming through the window and hitting the embroidered, white comforter, they rose to the forefront of my mind.

  Deep and even breaths heaved out of his lungs, making his chest rise and fall, indicating he was still asleep. Running my hands along the silken hairs on his chest, I sighed. Last night had been so bitter-sweet. I had loved our closeness, loved the way he had held me and cherished me as though I was the most precious thing in the world.

  But I still had the feeling Prakash felt that his incarceration was a just punishment for what he had done to Corrine. More alarming was the thought that he might still have to face trial for what Bruce did to Ashley.

  My finger skimmed his dark brown nipple, which puckered under my touch. I made tiny circles over his little areola and glanced at his handsome, regal features for any reaction.

  “Kash?” I whispered.

  He didn’t wake up.

  I blew a gentle stream of air into his ear, hoping it would at least make him stir, but he gave no reaction. What if he had slept badly in the detention center? If he was only out on bail, did I need to ruin the moment by bringing up his legal problems?

  No, I didn’t. Besides, Sebastian had probably already spoken with Mr. Pinkerton. It could wait until we were all together. My fingers traveled a slow trail toward the other nipple.

  Prakash’s chest rumbled. “If you like body hair, there’s plenty more lower down.”

  With a smirk, I ran my hand down the thin trail of hair leading from his chest to the thatch beneath his belly button. My little finger bumped his erection, and I smoothed precum over his huge cock head with my index finger. The skin there was rougher than Sebastian’s and Leopold’s, and I guessed it was because he’d been circumcised.

  He drew in a sharp breath between his teeth. “You know polyandry is practiced in India.”

  “Hasn’t it been outlawed yet?”

  “In some communities, it’s a form of keeping the family property together.” He shuddered. “And population control, I suppose.”

  “Ah, because a woman can only have so many children?” I wrapped my hand around his erection and twisted it around his gorgeous head.

  Prakash shuddered. “Th-that’s right.”

  “How does a polyandrous marriage work?” Propping myself up to one elbow, I lay on my side, continuing to work his dick, sliding my grip up and down his thick shaft, making sure to pay attention to the sensitive tip.

  The skin along his shaft was as smooth as lambskin, but veins pulsed and protruded underneath its delicate surface.

  Prakash closed his eyes and tremble. Harsh breaths huffed in and out of his nostrils, and the muscles of his face clenched, as though he was trying to regain h
is composure.“In some communities, marrying a man automatically weds the woman to all the brothers in the household.”

  I pressed a kiss on his shoulder. “Sounds delightful if the brothers are all as nice and handsome as each other.”

  He cracked an eye open. “Would that interest you?”

  “You three are my first boyfriends. I doubt that I’ll be able to go back to having just one.”

  “I have an aunt who has five husbands…” He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a long breath. “She’s a distant cousin, I suppose. One summer, we could ask her to introduce us to the priest who performed her wedding.”

  My tongue darted out to lick my lips as I made circular motions over his slick head, spreading more and more precum further down his prick. The thought of tying myself to the kings sent a ripple of excitement through my belly, but I also wanted to experience them when no one was trying to kill us, frame us, or maim us.

  “But you three aren’t brothers.” With my left hand, I gripped him around the base to hold him steady while I rubbed little circles with my thumb over the underside where his tip connected to his shaft.

  Prakash squeezed his eyes shut and gasped. “After this wretched ordeal, I’d consider us brothers-in-arms.”

  “Is that enough to qualify for a polyandrous marriage?”

  “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “What do you think?”

  I pressed my lips on his sideburn and inhaled his wild, masculine scent. “Are you proposing to me?”

  A deep, rumbling laugh was his response. “Would you like me to propose to you?”

  All the butterflies in my stomach took flight. I’d barely been in a relationship with him for two terms. Even though things were intense between us, he’d been incarcerated for a huge bulk of that time. My heart longed for more with the kings, but there were a bunch of things I wanted to do with my life, including go to university.

  I swallowed hard. The last thing I wanted to do was blurt out all those thoughts and ruin the moment, so I said, “Maybe once I’ve gotten a few letters after my name?”