Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1)

by C. L. Matthews

  Are you ignoring me, beautiful?

  I can’t help but smile at Pru’s question.

  I’m just enjoying your banter. Pretty sure it’s turning me on.

  I’m not pretty sure. I’m absolutely positive. Being fought over by two guys is hot, especially after our night together.

  Fuck, they both text at the same time.

  Which we definitely would if you weren’t halfway across the world, but semantics. Pru sends a meme of someone saying whyyyyy all dramatically.

  I giggle, and then another escapes me when Justice sends a side-eye emoji.

  Imagine if you were both here, I’d be naked and probably filled. Twice, I continue to torture. Problem is, it’s me who’s sad as shit with the knowledge that they’re so far.

  Where are you? Justice asks.

  On my living room floor.

  Well, get that pretty ass up and get on your bed, princess.

  My body melts with his message. I stand and lie on the bed in the next moment.

  Then what?

  Pull down those fishnets and take your panties with you.

  I’m molten with his commands, wanting to be in the same room. But where is Pru? He disappeared.

  Where’s Pru?

  Probably getting lubed up for some play time. Are you without panties, sweetheart?

  I nod and then realize he can’t see me. Yes.

  I want you to take those fingers and slide them down your body. Make sure to stop at those perky nipples and squeeze them for me. Flick those dangling crowns for me too.

  My hands grip my breasts through the material of my hoodie, and I cry out, remembering how they felt being tugged on by both Justice and Pru. My left hand lowers to my pussy while my other stays on my breasts.

  I bet you’re so drenched for us. Justice knows the art of sexting. That’s for sure.

  Tell us how wet you are, Pru finally responds, and my heart races.

  Soaked, I moan when I rub the wetness around my clit.

  Are you touching that pretty pussy, Colton? Pulling on that little hood piercing of yours?

  I am. He’s right. I pull on the little ring as pleasure zips through me.

  Yes. It’s all I can respond because I’m a goddamn mess.

  That’s when my phone starts to ring. Picking it up, I let out a sigh. “Hello.”

  “Hello, darlin’,” Justice’s voice rings through while I put it on speaker. It’s husky and warm. His southern drawl is something I already miss.

  “Hi, beautiful,” I hear Pru say a second later.

  “We’re like nineties kids, three-ways,” I jest.

  “Don’t say three-ways when my dick is this close to fucking combusting.”

  “I meant the call.” I laugh. “But I’m down for that too.”

  One of them groans, and I feel my body only getting hotter.

  “Are you touching yourself?” Justice asks.

  “Yes,” I breathily admit, not that he doesn’t already know.

  “Well, since my dick is going to be aching from the blue balls I’m bound to have after this phone call, you better yell my name.”

  “She’s going to yell mine, actually,” Pru comments.

  I’m stifling a laugh. Having them argue over me is an ego boost I didn’t realize I needed.

  “Don’t listen to him, Colt. Touch that wet cunt and imagine it’s us finger-fucking you.”

  I start rubbing over my clit and moan into the phone.

  “That’s right, beautiful. Let me hear you,” Pru says on a groan.

  Knowing he’s touching himself with me while halfway across the country has me literally panting.

  “If I were there, I’d be eating that messy pussy while you begged me for more.”

  I hiss as Just’s words make me throb. I’m so fucking close to my orgasm.

  “And while he ate you out, I’d be biting those supple tits and grinding my dick all over you.”

  “Ah, fuck,” I moan.

  “That’s right, princess. Now tug those nipples for us. Let us hear you.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant as I rub myself and pinch myself at the same time.

  “Shit,” Prudence hisses, his voice near guttural. You can hear the wet sounds of both of us moving.

  “Now stick two fingers in you, baby. Use that thumb on your clit,” Justice says, his voice so low and pained. “Imagine I’m working you up to sink inside you.”

  I whimper and do as he says, letting out a long moan.

  He clears his throat as if he’s having a hard time swallowing. “By now, I’d be done and your cum would be in my mouth. I’d be kissing from your inner thighs, biting each stop, and then hovering above you before I rammed inside you.”

  I can feel my climax rising, making my forehead sweat.

  “Then I’d fuck you, sliding in and out, pounding into those tight walls until you screamed.

  “After you wet my cock from that second orgasm, I’d fuck into you until my balls ached.”

  I’m a mess of moans, slick as I slide against my clit harder and harder, loving the intense warmth building inside me.

  “Then I’d explode inside you. Since we were so worked up, we forgot a condom, and my seed would fill you to the brim. You’d shake from the intensity, crying out because you want more.”

  That’s all it takes before I’m moaning both their names and shuddering from head to toe. My body quivers through my orgasm as I hear Prudence grunt his release.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “That was so fucking hot.”

  “Yeah,” I say, my vocal cords strained.

  “Now, go take a shower, princess. We’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

  “I miss you,” I tell them.

  “We miss you too. Don’t forget our promise,” Pru adds.

  “Don’t forget yours,” I tease.

  Then I hang up on them and shower.

  That was a much-needed stress reliever.

  Thirty-Six

  Jordan

  Determination of death, do you know what that consists of? Did your mind travel to an autopsy table? Maybe a TV show you watched which showed you your first experience of the table where they carved up a human. Or maybe it was those words “cause of death.” It’s weird, isn’t it? How our minds travel to the familiar, even if it's gruesome.

  Determination of death.

  What it consists of for me is the night where everything changed. Dead. Deceased. Heart beats no longer.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not the death, not the lack of life, not the aftermath or the fall, but you never realize what you’re about to lose until the loss has already risen.

  One night changed my life. Our lives. Everyone’s.

  “What are you doing here?” Cassidy hisses. His pale hair seems frailer, thinner, almost a whisper to the wind, but he’s fierce, even with his sunken cheeks and sharp jaw.

  But something has changed. He won’t tell me. Usually, he tells me everything like the little gossipmonger he is.

  “Well?”

  The way he pushes the words at Ridge has me shaken. It’s not like Cassidy to be the aggressor. He’s brutal when necessary. It’s his protective trait, but he’s anything but reckless.

  Ridge doesn’t take threats well. He’s not soft. Nor is he stony. He’s nothing.

  If you could carve a box to reveal its secrets, slowly shredding down each inch until it was a masterpiece of pretty divots and edges, it would become nonexistent by the time you realized there are no emotions or motives to uncover.

  Ridge—as all of us call him—is something else.

  He would be scary if not for the way he softens for a certain little sister of Cassidy’s. I once thought he didn’t have a heart. I mean, how could he when he’s emotionless?

  Somehow though, one beats. Even if only for one girl.

  “Don’t ignore me, asshole!” Cassidy’s voice rises, the loudness breaking the stale air with a newfound tension.

  It’s just us three—Ridge, C
ass, and me. We’re in the main gathering hall in Crystal Tower. Colt doesn’t know, but this is where the Emeralds live. We meet at the cabin’s basement, but this place in the tower is where we coalesce. This entire floor is our dedicated living space. Not only is it off-limits to everyone, it’s nearly a secret. Hell, she doesn’t even know I exist. I’m a shadow. The darkness in the late of night. Danger lurking in wait for the right time.

  I’m a plot.

  A ploy.

  Their weapon.

  “I’m here because we have business to see to,” Bridger answers with indifference. He places his hands against the railing, leaning against it. His face, as impassive as ever, doesn’t even twitch when Cassidy comes closer.

  “Business? Tonight is a Crystallites party at the cabin. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  I stare at them both. I’ve heard stirrings. Bloodlines talk, and the Grims have been practically vocalizing theirs. There’s a battle between the two oldest families—the Grims and the Marchettis. Neither have kids our age, which means I’m the closest in line for leading the Emeralds. The Grims—the oldest founding family, who also has ties across the world—held the most secrets, dark ones, all of which terrify me. My father wasn’t a saint. He got his hands dirty. Like many—if not every—founding family, he’s a killer, but even my old man knows his power doesn’t compare to the Grims’ Empire. They’re so secretive they’ve been erased from the books.

  There’s been whispers amongst the adults at their charities and galas that they’re thinking of taking over Emerald business, corrupting it once more, turning it into what it was created for.

  There’s a problem with this, though. Generations ago, the founding families swept out three generational bloodlines, severing their ties to the cause. This means all Emeralds and kids born since aren’t fully aware of the past, not unless they read Limpieza de Sangre. It’s the contract, really; the story of stories, all of them—the beginnings, the middles, and the ends.

  “What are you dickbags doing?” Ross yells, walking through the room like he’s annoyed.

  “Cass is being a little bitch,” I muse aloud, holding my spot as the bitter bitch of the group. That’s what my father asked of me. It’s what Mother expects, but most of all, it’s what I pretend to be. If not, I would fail, and in my family, failing is the equivalent of a death sentence.

  It’s why I only have a little sister left. No one knows of Maximilian. It’s as if he never existed.

  “You’re just mad you don’t get to be the spotlight unless we’re here,” Cass bites, his eyes narrowing on me. Then they go to Ross, and Cass’ blue crystals almost darken, hatred seeping out of them like venom.

  “Aw, is poor little Hudson mad Rossy-boy dicks his sister?”

  Cassidy’s gaze bounces to mine, disdain dripping from every tired line on his face. What changed? He used to be able to hand it back to me. Unlike what everyone thinks of the star athlete, he’s ruthless when it comes to those he loves. He doesn’t cower, and he’s the least weak link.

  Ross throws his hands up. “I haven’t—”

  “Shut the fuck up, McAllister,” Cass seethes, spittle leaving his mouth. “Let’s get this shit over with. Gregor wants us at Site L early tomorrow. No drinking. No drugs.” He glares at Bridger and Ross, then lands his eyes on me. “And no fucking touching Colton. She’s off-limits.”

  “Aye, sir,” I mock with a two-finger salute.

  He scoffs and pushes past me. His sweat permeates the air, like a fog of tension. It’s weird. He’s been distant. Not the boy I’d met before, but a new kind of tired, restless, and dead-to-the-world replacement.

  When he leaves, I peer at Bridger. “What is happening with him?”

  His eyes take on a different darkness, one he hides well in front of others. He’s a charmer when he wants to be, but we all know he’s a sociopath in a good boy’s human suit.

  “Stay in your lane, Jordan, and keep an eye on Colt.” He stares at Ross. “You fuckers can’t keep her safe alone. You tend to get distracted by pussy too easily.”

  This time, it’s Ross who scoffs.

  There’s a battle here, one I’ve stayed far away from, but what they don’t know is that even if you win the battle, the war hasn’t even begun, and the girl isn’t the prize for any.

  “Keep your eyes peeled,” Ross mutters to me. “Something doesn’t feel right about tonight.

  I stare at him. For the first time, I see it, the fear. Like Cassidy’s sweat, it’s almost surrounding me, teasing the air, warning us all.

  Too bad none of us listened.

  I shake my head at the memory of Cassidy’s last night. We never truly saw eye-to-eye. The only reason he tolerated me was because I never touched or went after Colt. It wasn’t for lack of wanting. It was merely for the inability.

  They had their rules, and as the ruling bloodline, I had mine.

  “She’s back,” Lux mutters.

  I peer up at him, pretending I’ve been working on my finals like I should be, but my mind keeps traveling to what was said to Colt right after we fucked her. “Such a little slut. Fucking two guys in her brother’s old room. On his old bed...”

  We’ve kept our distance since. Not by choice, either.

  She’s up to something. It’s in the way she watches us and thinks we don’t notice. Her friend, Melissa, isn’t any less invasive. The difference between them is, Colt has all the power and the keys to the Emeralds’ kingdom. She only has to use them correctly.

  “Where’d she go?” I ask.

  She disappeared for Thanksgiving. No warning. I left because Father required it. Lux left, too, to stay with me. Midas DeLeon isn’t one for holidays with his sons. They usually vacation with my family. Lux and I ditched early, told them we had emergency school shit.

  They believed us, but what they didn’t know is what we planned.

  “How the fuck are we going to be able to sneak in now?” The question leaves my lips in a curse.

  Lux stares at me. “Why did you bring us to Cassidy’s room?” he counters. His face is hardened.

  Lux and I are always at war. He’s the grenade, and I’m the pin who forces him to detonate. If not for me, he would be leading the Emerald Vestige. He would be ruling the school, but without me, he would fail.

  “You could have stopped me,” I point out.

  “I didn’t know that’s where you were leading us. Ten’s room is the last one on the left. I figured you were getting back at him and going there. Now, answer me. Why did you take us there?”

  He walks toward me, no aggression, just insolence. He’s not happy, but he’s unwilling to play all his cards. We would never survive if we ever went at it full-on. He’s tumultuous; I’m reckless. We’re a waiting disaster, but fuck, if he doesn’t confuse the fuck out of me sexually. Before him, I didn’t question my preferences once. He’s not my type. For one, he has a dick, and it never appealed to me in the least. Yet, he’s somehow changed that for me.

  “Tell me why it matters?” I ask, even though I know why. It’s the desire to hear him say it which drives me because we all know I won’t.

  “Why? He’s fucking dead, Walker. Dead as a fucking doornail.” His chest puffs with angry drags of oxygen, all while his face contorts in pain.

  Like me, he wasn’t expecting the death of Cassidy. None of us planned for bloodshed. We were supposed to distract Colton. That’s it. No one should’ve died.

  “You’re right. He fucking died, but that didn’t stop you from torturing Colt. It didn’t deter you from fucking her raw, and it sure as hell didn’t push you to tell me no, so what has you so up in arms, Lennox? Is it because you’re mad we were in a dead man’s room, or that you had to share her with me?”

  His nostrils flare as he sucks in a ragged breath.

  “Isn’t that why we all hate each other, even while being brothers?” I ask.

  “You are not my brother,” he hisses.

  “Why? Since I wasn’t raised alongside you and the
others, or because you want to fuck me? It’s not my fault Maxim was here while I’d been in the dark. He could be here, and you’d be fine, wouldn’t you?” I pester, and Lux growls, fisting his palms. “What, Lennox? Is the Saint of Arcadia finally cracking under pressure?”

  He rushes me then, forcing me on my back. After ripping the book from my lap, he tosses it against the wall. “Shut the fuck up, Walker.”

  He fists my shirt’s collar, the bed sinking from our shared weight, his face inches from mine, venom in his eyes and redness tinting his heated cheeks. He’s always so well put together—the saint, the savior, the student body president.

  “Tell me, DeLeon. Is the only reason why you hate me because of how much my older brother fucked you, and now you see his face when looking at me?”

  He lets me go, his face falling with my words. The indent of him lightens, as if along with his speech, his soul’s weight leaves him too.

  “Guess you weren’t aware that he told me everything,” I add.

  “I didn’t even know you fucking existed,” he spits, his face full of disdain. “You were the black sheep, the outcast, unwanted.”

  I smile. He’s ruffled. His poor soft boy feathers are being plucked one by one, and he’s not prepared for the massacre I’m about to cause.

  “Yeah, I’ve always been the weak one to Father, but that’s not true. I didn’t want to be involved. Maxim craved power, craved blood, and craved you.”

  Lennox stiffens, his face one without emotions. “He died, anyway.”

  “Yet you never speak of his name.”

  “Seeing you is bad enough,” he hisses through clenched teeth. The tick in his jaw appeals to me more and more every day, the sharpness from him. When Maxim was taken from Lennox, he changed. He hardened.

  “Is it only bad since you can’t have what you’ve always wanted?” I ask.

  “Fuck off,” he barks, his face morphing into a longing I feel deep in my chest.

  I sit back up, bringing myself right to Lennox. When he turns his face back to me, I strike. Grabbing his jaw, I force his lips to mine. He pushes me back, his eyes filled with a barrage of emotions. My chest rises and falls, crashing against the shores of my ribs.