Dirty Wicked Prince: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Court Legacy Book 1)

by Eden O'Neill

  “Nah, I’m okay,” I told him. “Go mingle or something.”

  He didn’t look like he wanted to. I mean, his sister just walked in here half naked, and only after assuring I was okay did he decide to go off to find some friends. I was really happy to have him in my corner again, and I hoped I did after what I was about to do.

  Fact of the matter was, I needed to stand up for myself.

  I purposely took my coat off.

  I got right back down to my undies, striding with nothing but self-assurance when I dropped my coat and my purse off at coat check. Yep, Ares Mallick actually had coat check at this party. They had a guy in a suit taking everyone’s stuff in the foyer.

  Bow’s jaw dropped.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, her cheeks warming. The way she stared at my boobs, one would have thought she didn’t have any herself, but then again, I did have pretty big boobs for my size. I was lanky, but easily fit into a D cup.

  “I’m going to make a statement,” I said, confident as hell. Well, at least I tried to put that off. I got more than a few catcalls as tool-burgers passed me half drunk. I threw my cheap mask at one of them. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

  “No problem, baby.” Dude snapped that picture, and I growled. The guy scampered off, but I didn’t have any time for him.

  I faced Bow. “Where’s Ares?”

  The asshat was here somewhere, and he was about to answer to me.

  Bow shrank in her little jeans and T-shirt. Really, we were yin and yang, and how we’d been able to establish some kind of friendship was beyond me. There must have been something about the two of us that went together, though, and like the rest of Legacy, I somehow felt like I had a long-lost little sister I never had. She was just cute like that, and you wanted to protect her.

  She hugged her arms. “Depends. What are you going to do with that information?”

  “What’s necessary,” I said, honest. “Where are they?”

  Because where he was, I was sure I’d find the others. Those four traveled in a pack like an actual wolf pack.

  “Probably hanging out in his dad’s lounge,” she mumbled. Though, obviously she didn’t want to tell me. “But no one else is allowed in there.” She leaned in. “They take girls.”

  Meaning they were getting their dicks wet.

  Perfect.

  Some thought really should have gone into this next move. I mean, I probably should have reconsidered before I stormed the house looking for this lounge. I found it easily. Everyone apparently knew where Legacy like to have their fun.

  They even had a dude at the door.

  The guy hadn’t even bothered to question me when I swiveled my hips and scampered inside a room reeking of weed and flesh. Actual sweat clouded my nostrils, and I was sure the goon at the door thought I’d fit right in for what I’d been about to see.

  I definitely did.

  I was as scandalously clad as some of the other chicks in there. Thatcher had two girls in iridescent cat suits on his lap, bra and panties on full display. The girls made out in front of him, his hand on the ass of a third girl kissing his neck.

  He paid no attention as I waltzed past him, clearly busy, but the other three played poker. They passed a blunt around. A couple of topless chicks felt each other up while dancing for the guys who barely even looked at them. The girls appeared to be partygoers who simply looked thirsty as hell, and Ares had been taking his hit when one girl pushed her tits in his face.

  “Back off,” he grunted, making the girl whine. Wells gave her a nice place on his lap instead, and that seemed to appease her. Ares passed the joint off to Wells next, and he started to take a drink.

  That was until he saw me.

  The guy literally blew the alcohol out of his mouth, spraying it all over the poker table and the remaining girl who vied for his attention. She made the mistake of trying to kiss his neck, and he got it right in her face.

  “Ew, yuck!” she squealed, getting up, and Dorian and Wells threw up their hands.

  “What the fuck, bro?” Dorian charged, growling. It didn’t appear Ares had gotten him too, but his buddy had just spat alcohol all over the place.

  Ares howled boisterous laughter.

  “Holy fucking shit. This is amazing,” he stated, clapping, then directed his finger toward me. “You actually fucking fell for it.”

  Dorian and Wells whirled in my direction, Thatcher too.

  Thatcher’s women nearly fell off his lap. He actually had to do a double catch just to keep them up there. His jaw dropped. “What the fuck? Sloane?”

  What the fuck indeed.

  I pranced over, tossing my hair around and looking like an idiot. I propped my hands on my hips. “Hey, guys. Got room for another?”

  Wells cleared his lap, Thatcher too, which caused all three of their girls to moan and groan. Thatcher waved a hand. “Come on, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Only after me.” Wells was more delicate about it, taking my hand. He kissed it. “I’ll say. You certainly like to make an appearance.”

  “Yeah, she does.” Ares was still roaring, but Dorian was not.

  Dorian shoved him. “What the fuck?”

  “Chill, bro.” Ares threw a hand at him, finally calming down a little. “She can take a joke. Why can’t you?”

  “Because she shouldn’t have to.” Dorian stood, and it was like the record stopped. All laughter completely left Ares’s lips, his smile wiping away.

  Dorian never had one.

  The dark prince was steamed for some reason. Red was chasing up his neck, and when Ares opened his mouth to say something, he never got the chance.

  His buddy was too busy taking me away.

  Dorian literally jerked me by the arm out of the room, being more than forceful about it. I threw him off me outside the door. “What the fuck?”

  “You, what the fuck?” he growled, then snatched my arm again. I punched at his big, meaty grip, but this guy gripped footballs for a living.

  He wasn’t letting go.

  “Get your hands off me,” I bit out, then he physically picked me up. He tossed me like a fucking sack of potatoes over his shoulder. I got nothing but the sight of a muscled ass as he walked me up a spiral staircase.

  I kicked and screamed the whole way, physically punching at his perfect ass, but that only made him slap mine.

  “Hit me again, little fighter, and I’ll be owning this,” he warned, his hand cradling my ass still. He squeezed, his palm rough through my underwear, and I thought he’d rip them off.

  He gratefully didn’t.

  He just continued to walk, and people passed us like this wasn’t unusual. Like this ape of a boy did this all the time, and this was simply normal. Eventually, we stopped at some room, but he didn’t set me down.

  He threw me on a bed.

  Fear caused me to back up on it, not fucking playing anymore. This guy had come at me before, and he’d definitely do it again.

  Dorian smirked at me, as if I was an idiot for the thought when he studied me on the bed. He shook his blond head before heading over to a set of dresser drawers.

  “Can’t help but make noise,” he gritted, seemingly to himself as he rooted around in it. Next thing I knew, he was tossing clothes at me. Boy clothes.

  I eyed the shorts and top. “What’s this?”

  “Put it on,” he ground out, then turned around.

  Like a gentleman.

  I almost laughed, thinking he was joking. On my elbows, I did nothing.

  He cuffed his arms, head raised. “Do it, or I’ll do it for you.” He eyed over his shoulder. “And you won’t like it.”

  My eyes lifted, putting his stupid clothes on. They were of course way too big, and I looked even more of an idiot than I had a second ago. Once I stood before him fully clothed, he turned around. I raised and dropped my hands. “Happy?”

  “Actually, no.” He got in my face, not shy about it. He bared his teeth. “I’ll be hap
py when you stop making noise. When you stop getting in my way and fucking with my boys.”

  You got to be shitting me.

  I directed a finger at the door. “Your boy set me up, dick wad.”

  The wrong thing to say.

  I knew because he turned the tables around on me.

  He whirled me around by the hips, locking me ass-first to that same dresser. His hand braced my throat, and I gasped. “Let go.”

  He didn’t.

  His hold tightened, and a madness danced about his ebony eyes. Like he was teetering a line of destruction and pain.

  “What did my mom do to deserve what you did?” His eyes scanned mine. “What did my mother do to deserve to cry from your noise?”

  He was obviously referring to earlier acts, things I did to get to him.

  “I didn’t mean to make her cry.” And I meant that. “I didn’t mean to use Bow either. I didn’t mean to do anything to either of them.”

  “Then what do you mean to do?” He got up in my face, but he didn’t let go. His irises simmered. “Tell me. What are your intentions, Noa Sloane?”

  “Sloane,” I corrected and wouldn’t back down from this jock. I wriggled within his tight hold. “And I’ll do whatever I have to in order to stand up for myself.”

  “So, you’re not sorry.” Breath to breath. Scowl to scowl. He was so close I tasted his wintry breath again, cool winds passing roughly over my lips. “For making my mom cry? For betraying Bow?”

  Of course, I was. I didn’t mean to upset his mother. I didn’t even know his mother, and Bow was my friend. Of course, I hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

  This boy made me do things, got in my head, and I made mistakes I couldn’t take back.

  “Fuck you,” I emphasized, and I didn’t care that it was the wrong thing to say. I didn’t care if it set him off. He wouldn’t get his way with me. I shook my head. “You touched me. Tackled me.”

  “And like you didn’t like it.” He was too close now. He placed a hand on either side of my face, his dark eyes flaring. “Like you weren’t begging to suck my cock.”

  I reared back to slap him, but he caught it. Stupid fucking football player.

  “Like you didn’t gag around me,” he heated over my face, my insides churning, my lower lips surging. They buzzed like my clit between them, my thighs hugging together. Dorian wet his lips. “Like you didn’t want to taste me.” He angled forward. “Like you didn’t want me tasting you.”

  His chest pressed close to mine, my nipples hard and erect, and as if to make his point, he reached between my legs.

  “Dorian…”

  He shoved his hand down my shorts, cupping me right through my panties, and I gasped.

  My pussy lips ignited against his rough fingers, the heat beneath my legs easily soaking his fingers.

  He knew.

  I watched as that awareness drove his madness across the line, the dark prince taken to his brink.

  “You’re so wet for me, Noa Sloane,” he said, ignoring what I wanted to be called. He eyed my mouth. “I’m in your head just as much as you’re in mine.”

  What?

  He bit my lip, the thoughts gone when his big hands drew my face up to meet his. Our teeth clacked, all tongues and pants.

  “Fuck you for getting in my head.” He sounded angry, enraged, and he bit my mouth so hard I cried out. “Fuck you, Noa.”

  “Sloane.” I shoved at his beefy chest, a weak attempt at best. “Get off me.”

  “You want me,” he gritted, almost smirking as a simple tongue flick caused me to open my mouth for me. “You want me filling all your holes. Making you scream.”

  He had such a disgusting mouth. My panties were completely wet as he manhandled me. He shoved my shorts down to my ankles. And whoever’s shirt he gave me, he ripped off.

  His went next.

  Beautifully tanned skin hugged muscled fleshed, no doubt from all those days he played football shirtless in the sun. His hair caught that same sunlight, streaked and trapped in every strand.

  He drew his fingers through them, looking crazed and deranged as he ground his cock against my mound.

  “Stop fucking fighting it.” He dragged my arms up, knocking off candles and a display of framed art off the dresser. Whoever’s room this was, he was trashing it. He tangled our arms. “Stop fighting me.”

  He made it hard not to. I was in a constant fight with him basically since I’d set foot in this town. He’d placed a target on me and set quickly to break me.

  I moved my mouth away, and all that did was cause him to fasten his full lips to my neck. His teeth bit my pulse, canines piercing the skin. My breasts sagged, heavy and weighted through my lace cups.

  “You’ll hurt me.” I trembled beneath his mouth, I think my real fear. This boy drove me insane. He made me not think for myself. I didn’t think clearly.

  His hand captured my throat, his tongue dragging up my quivering pulse. The mere action alone caused weakness to hit my legs.

  Dorian was there to keep me upright. Hands on my thighs, he picked me up and looped my legs around his waist. His hands braced my ass, and he kissed me so hard and fast I forgot what I’d just said to him.

  I forgot that he could hurt me.

  “You’d do worse,” he panted, our tongues dueling, his taste full and explosive with heat. “You’re doing worse.”

  He made it sound like I was getting to him too, in his head just as bad, but I found that hard to believe. This boy was unshakable, impenetrable. He’d gotten me literally down on my knees for him in multiple occasions.

  The bed was soft.

  He set me down on high thread count sheets, and I disappeared into it. It sunk deeper with Dorian’s weight, a smirk on his lips when he tugged my kitten heels off.

  “These are dangerous,” he growled, tossing them to the floor. Like an animal, he then proceeded to bite my naked toes. Seriously, it was like the hottest fucking thing he could have done, and not once had someone ever done that to me.

  The dark prince wasn’t just anyone.

  He was a man god, a boy making the transition into the fullest potential of himself. He exuded power, all raw sex and muscled flesh. Those around him bowed down, and those far beneath him didn’t even bother.

  They couldn’t get low enough.

  This boy had broken me, trembling at just the anticipation of him inside me. That was no doubt where this was going. I mean, he had me half naked on a bed. There were candles in the room, and he put them out with his fingers. The room dimmed to nothing but the moonlight streaming in.

  He really did look like a god now, a beast of a man on his knees in front of me. The room’s dim shadows hugged his bulky frame, large biceps and thighs.

  He jerked me to him, and since making out his expression was hard with the low light, I had to literally wait with anticipation as he felt me up.

  As he tasted me.

  His tongue flicked me through my underwear, and my thighs hugged his face. He forced them apart, the growl from his lips buzzing my pussy.

  “What the fuck? Why do you taste like this?” He sounded drunk below me, and since I couldn’t see his face, I had no idea if this was a good reaction to the way I tasted or not. It might have been strategic, him taking away the light. He didn’t want to expose himself to me. It made him vulnerable.

  And something told me the dark prince didn’t like being vulnerable.

  He shredded my panties, ripped them clean off with his teeth, and his hands did the rest. Bracing my thighs, he drank from my center. My fingers gripped his hair as I called out, and he chuckled against my pussy. “I’d like to keep some of my hair, Sloane.”

  “Fuck you.” God, we were so dysfunctional. I mean, who made love like this? We weren’t making love actually—at all. This was just sex between us.

  Hot. Fucking. Sex.

  Dorian knew how to eat pussy, nearly feral about it when he drove his tongue into my core and probed me deep. He hit me with piston-like pr
ecision, his hands digging into my ass cheeks.

  “I told you. You wanted me to taste you.” He buried himself between my legs, his big arms sliding beneath them. Bracing them to his shoulders, he blew heat on my sex. “You’re a goddamn liar, Sloane.”

  I was a liar. Everything he was doing to me felt so good.

  “Don’t stop,” I called out, nearly there, but Dorian didn’t make anything easy. He left my sex, and my body sagged without his mouth.

  He was such an asshole, arrogant, and I made out nothing but a dark smile on his lips when he wiped his mouth with his arm. He loomed largely over me, my sex still vibrating with need.

  “Beg for me,” he said, guiding my mouth up, but he didn’t kiss me. His eyebrows narrowed. “You don’t get it until you tell me you want it.”

  I had told him.

  And he was playing games again.

  He liked to win, and apparently, this went far beyond the football field.

  I turned my face away, equally frustrated as I was annoyed. But then he played with me, his hand at my center. His fingers buried inside me, his hard body pinning me down.

  “Sloane.”

  I faced him, his eyes like ebony pools. They scanned mine with interest, analyzing like he was trying to figure me out. He did kiss me then, hot and hard, and I ached beneath his mouth.

  “You can do worse to me,” he said, something he had said before. He turned me on my front, unstrapping my bra, but then, he crowded me.

  His big hips drove into me from behind through his jeans. His growl touched the air when he tugged my hair back and bit my neck. He was going so slow, controlled, and I nearly came with him just grinding on top of me.

  “Beg me,” he said again. Slowly breaking me down. He had broken me. I was fucking shattered. He laced our fingers, pinning them to the bed. “Tell me to fuck you.”

  “Fuck me, please,” I cried, nearly in tears. The frustration claimed me, anger buckling me and making me want to knock him off me. I didn’t understand why he needed me to be like this, why he felt the need to control me and take whatever he wanted.

  He stripped me raw, and upon turning me around, I saw him through clouded eyes. He was a beautiful monster, all darkness and little light.