Cruel Prep: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Princes of Ravenlake Academy Book 1)

by Nicole Fox

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, it feels good,” I gasp, falling back to the bed, my chest rising and falling madly.

  I glance down and see that Finn is smiling to himself as he watches me squirm under his touch. Then, he slides his other hand up my leg, under my dress, and across my body. Without hesitation, he rips the sticky bra down and finds my pebbled nipple.

  When his finger brushes over the sensitive skin, I moan.

  His hands move over me expertly, like a cellist playing an instrument. His fingers slide into me while the pads of his fingers pinch and stroke and flick over me. Just when I think it can’t get any better, his thumb reenters the equation, swirling circles over the bundle of nerves between my legs, and finally … finally, it is too much.

  “Oh God.” My entire body clenches. I squeeze my eyes closed and arch my back against the oncoming release.

  I’ve found this by myself. Under the covers in my room, with my own hand. But never with anyone else.

  The drugs stripped me of so much inhibition, but suddenly I don’t want Finn to see me. Not like this. Not so entirely out of control.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I ignore him, doing my best to keep my facial expression neutral, trying to keep from shaking.

  His fingers stop moving all at once. “Open them now.”

  It feels like something essential has been taken from me. Something I desperately need. So, I open my eyes.

  As soon as I do, Finn starts moving inside of me again. He picks up where he left off, and I look down at him.

  “Look at me when you come.” His lips move slowly around the words, sensually, and I want them on my body, too.

  His dark hair is sweaty at his temples, and his cheeks are red. I’ve never seen him anything less than perfectly composed, but this sight is better.

  I realize the same is probably true for him. Seeing the way I respond to his touch is a turn on, so I focus on that thought as the heat quickly builds inside of me again.

  This time, when my body flings itself over the edge and into the abyss of pleasure, I don’t hold back.

  My forehead wrinkles, my brows draw together, and my mouth falls open. Tiny gasps force their way from my lungs as my body contracts and releases over and over again.

  I roll my hips up, incapable of staying still a second longer. When I do, Finn moans.

  I snap my attention back to him, and realize he slipped his hand away from my breast at some point and is now firmly gripping his own cock.

  I thought when we came up here that he’d do that inside of me. That this was just the warm-up.

  “Finn, do you want to—?” I try to sit up, but he slides his fingers out of me and pushes me back into the mattress.

  Even without his hand, my body is still convulsing, feeling the last remaining pulses of my orgasm.

  Finn holds me down and pumps more furiously, rising up onto his knees.

  I watch him, transfixed, confused and sated and mesmerized. Every emotion all at once.

  He grits his teeth as his hand slides down his length, and I want to reach out for him, but it is clear that isn’t what he wants. Finn likes to take control, and I don’t mind.

  His stomach tenses, showing off his lean, toned torso.

  It happens so fast that I’ve barely registered he has moved at all when suddenly, he is ripping my dress up. The fabric falls over my face, and I scramble to pull it away. By the time I do, Finn is hovering over me, pumping himself as he admires my body.

  “Fuck.” He tips his head back and moans as I feel his warmth splatter on my stomach.

  Finn’s groans slow down to silence.

  His voice emerges from the darkness. “The bathroom is down the hall if you need to clean up.” He picks up his shirt on the floor, sees the mess on the front, and then tosses it lazily at the closet door.

  “Oh,” I say. “Thanks.”

  I consider putting my shoes on, but I want a reason to come back to this room and figure everything out. I want there to be a reason for me to be in here with him again.

  So, I drop them next to the bed and pad across the plush carpet and into the hallway.

  The party is curiously quiet downstairs, and I peek over the railing and see why.

  Everyone has paired off. People are making out all over the furniture and on the floor. Couples are leaned against walls, grinding against one another shamelessly, and I’ve never seen anything like it before. I feel like I’ve stumbled into an adult film set.

  Was I just a party hookup? In Finn’s room, with his attention on me, I felt cherished. Chosen.

  Now, seeing everyone else getting their rocks off, I feel like a fool.

  I spin away from the railing and have to stop to steady myself with a hand on the wall. My vision spins before I regain my footing and move down the hallway.

  There seem to be more doors than there were before, and I can’t even remember which room is Finn’s anymore.

  I stumble to the end of the hallway, turn a knob, and throw the door open, thinking the worst that will happen is I’ll walk in on a couple … coupling. But if they are anything like the people downstairs, they won’t mind.

  Except, the door doesn’t open all the way. It catches on something.

  “Hello?”

  There are no lights on, so I can’t see inside. I push on the door a bit harder and it gives way, but there is something blocking it. Something heavy.

  It opens enough for me to slip inside, so I do. I fumble along the wall for the light switch and then curse when I find it and the light blinds me.

  Blinking against the sudden brightness, I take a step forward and kick something.

  Or rather, someone.

  I curse again. “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was—”

  I see the demon patch first. That sneering face with a crown on its horned head.

  It’s Dallas.

  His head is slumped forward, chin on his chest, and he is leaning against the side of a bookshelf. Clearly, he isn’t well. His legs are spread out in front of him like a rag doll. Dried blood is pasted against the back of his head.

  I drop to my knees. “Dallas?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I slowly reach for his neck with two fingers, doing what I’ve seen done in movies and television. I press his cool skin in several places before panic begins to grip my chest, making it hard to breathe.

  There is only the faintest flutter of a pulse.

  At least, I think there is. Maybe I’m making it up. Maybe there’s nothing.

  Maybe he’s dead.

  10

  Lily

  I jerk my hand away and cover my mouth, muffling a scream. Then, on shaky, drug-fueled legs, I crawl back into the hallway. I’m just finding my feet, ready to run downstairs and find a phone to call 911, when I run into someone.

  “What the fuck?”

  I recognize Cora’s voice and almost sob with relief.

  “Thank God. Cora. We have to—” I look back at the door and shake my head. “I need a phone. Something happened, and—”

  Cora rolls her eyes. “Where is Finn? Why did he let you leave?”

  She sounds like she is annoyed with me, but I know it’s just because she doesn’t understand.

  “We need to call the police.”

  She grabs my arm and pulls me down the hall. I don’t ask where we are going because it doesn’t matter. No matter where we go, I’ll find a phone and call for help.

  Cora throws open a door. Finn is sitting on the edge of his bed. He still doesn’t have a shirt on. When Cora walks in, dragging me behind her, he frowns at her. No, it’s a grimace.

  Maybe it has something to do with the ecstasy between her boobs from the game earlier. Finn didn’t seem to enjoy her dare, and it didn’t make any sense to me, either. For days, she talked him up to me, acting like he liked me. So, why would she do that?

  I shake my head, chastising myself for thinking about something so trivial when someone might be dead in the ot
her room.

  But I’m not thinking rationally about anything. My mind is a tangled mess, and I just need someone else to tell me what to do.

  I need someone to help.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls.

  Cora yanks me forward by the arm, pushing me towards him. “Cleaning up your mess. Whatever you did to her in here, keep it in here. There are still people downstairs. They know you’re fucked in the head, but they don’t know how badly.”

  I feel like I’m in a nightmare.

  Maybe this is a bad trip. I’ve only ever smoked pot before tonight, so I don’t know what ecstasy should be like.

  Based on the name, I’d assume it was better than this. More fun.

  This is not fun. Not even a little bit.

  Finn grabs my arm. The gentle touching from before is gone. His fingers dig into my skin with crushing force. I wince as he pulls me towards him.

  “We didn’t even do anything. Not really, anyway.” Finn snorts. “She is even more innocent than I thought. I didn’t want to break her.”

  Cora holds up her hands to silence him. “I don’t care what you did, okay? I got her here, and now my part in this is done. You can stop threatening me. It’s over.”

  Threatening her? Her part in what?

  Nothing makes sense. I close my eyes, trying to clear out the noise in my head.

  I need to focus. Focus on Dallas.

  Dallas is dead … or dying. He needs help.

  “I saw someone when I went to—”

  “You’re done when I say you’re done,” Finn says to Cora, cutting me off. “Now, get the fuck out of my room.”

  “Fuck you, Finn Foster.” Cora shoots daggers at him, and then, completely ignoring me, leaves.

  Finn’s shoulders relax when she leaves, and he lets go of my arm. “What did you tell her?”

  “What?”

  “Who else did you see?” he asks, walking around me slowly, blocking my path to the door. “I took it easy on you, and you still tried to run away? For fuck’s sake.”

  Nothing makes sense anymore. I sit down on the edge of the bed and shake my head, desperately wishing I had a glass of water. My mouth feels dry and sandpapery. “I wasn’t running away. I tried to find the bathroom, but instead, I walked into a room and—”

  “Which room?” Finn asks, a spike of panic in his voice.

  “I don’t know, but I saw someone—”

  “Who?” Finn’s face is pale now, all signs of anger gone, replaced with panic.

  My heart beats harder, making it difficult to catch my breath. “Dallas Martin.”

  Finn frowns. “He was upstairs?”

  “I think he was—” A sob works its way out of my chest. I don’t have control over anything anymore. Not my body or my emotions. I feel raw and split open. “Dead. Or maybe just unconscious? I don’t know. I tried to feel for a pulse, but I’m feeling a little weird and I dunno, overwhelmed, so I don’t know if I did it right, and—”

  “Shut up.” Finn’s entire body goes rigid. A vein in his neck pops out. “Did Cora see?”

  “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen and—”

  Finn is gone before I can even finish my thought. It takes me a moment to realize he left the room. He moved so fast my hazy mind couldn’t keep up with him.

  Rather than growing more sober, I’m becoming less lucid by the second. I’ve never been so hammered in my entire life, and I want to rest. I want to close my eyes.

  I should be calling the police. Running. Screaming. Raising the alarm.

  But I’m so tired.

  I lie back on the bed and close my eyes, trying to keep the world stationary. Finn will take care of it. Now that he knows what is going on, he’ll solve everything. I did my part.

  Some time passes. I’m not sure how long.

  Distantly, I hear the door open and close.

  Then, I feel a weight next to me on the bed. When I open my eyes, Finn is looking at me, his blue eyes cold and assessing.

  He doesn’t smile. The chill in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. I feel like a mouse looking into the mouth of a lion.

  He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my shoulder. “This plan is all fucked up now.”

  My survival instinct rises above the drugs and alcohol and sounds the alarm.

  Something isn’t right. What plan?

  “You were supposed to find out how bad I really am slowly,” he says, drawing a circle with his finger on my bare shoulder. “Over time. When I wanted you to know.”

  Bad? How bad? What is happening?

  I try to sit up, but his hand flattens on my shoulder, pinning me in place. I’m too confused to fight, to resist.

  Finn sits up and hovers over me, his eyes narrowed and angry.

  Gone is the smiling, flirting boy from before.

  Gone is the Finn who slid his fingers inside of me and cared about how I felt.

  He doesn’t care about me right now.

  He doesn’t care about anyone.

  “I had a plan, but the best plans are adaptable,” he says, talking mostly to himself. “So, we’ll adapt.”

  “We will?” My lips tremble as I try to make sense of things. “What about Dallas?”

  “Not your concern.”

  He sounds so cavalier about it that the news takes a second to sink in. It’s several seconds before I gasp. Before tears fill my eyes.

  Finn is in my face, his breath warm on my skin. Despite everything, my body reacts to him. I catch myself leaning forward, mouth open, ready to kiss him.

  Except, he isn’t kissing me now.

  His top lip pulls back in a sneer. “Worse will happen to you if you tell anyone. Do you hear me?”

  Sleep still pulls at my exhausted mind, and I want to give into it, but I can’t. I fight it off, blinking furiously. “But what about Dallas?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” His hand slides under my chin, tipping my face up to his so his lips brush against mine as he speaks. “What matters is that you’re mine, Lily DeVry.”

  He said the same thing before. It sounded sexy then. Like he wanted me.

  Now, it is possessive. Threatening.

  I shiver and close my eyes, wishing I could be anywhere else.

  Just as my body gives in and slips into unconsciousness, I hear him whisper in my ear. “You’re all mine.”

  11

  Finn

  She’s asleep. Good.

  Time to handle this fucking mess.

  I slip out of the room. Just before I shut the door, I take one last look at Lily.

  That slutty dress Cora picked for her is pushed up high around her hips. I can still see where I marked her.

  A ripple of satisfaction surges through me. Fuck, that felt ten times better than I expected. To be honest, I went a little off the rails. Too far or not far enough—I can’t decide.

  It wasn’t the plan at all, of course. None of this was. Dallas fucked all that up. Made me lose track of things. And by the time I had Lily at my fingertips, I’d forgotten everything I’d schemed up.

  The whip. The cuffs. The nasty things I wanted to whisper in her ear.

  Instead, I was almost… gentle? I’ve never been gentle a day in my life, but this was as close as a person like me could ever come to that.

  So be it. There’ll be plenty of time later to torment Lily in all the ways I’ve dreamed up.

  I pull the door closed and turn my attention back to the task at hand.

  Dallas Martin.

  That Hell Princes douche bag just had to stick his ugly nose in my business. He deserved every bit of what he’d gotten.

  Bringing a knife? To my fucking party?

  Idiot. Absolute idiot. He was lucky Caleb wasn’t around, or else he would’ve gotten very badly fucked up.

  I only get the bathroom door halfway open before I draw in a hiss.

  Dallas must’ve dragged himself up here after he fell. There’s a trail of blood going up the
stairs. He’s propped up against the wall right here. Staining the white tile with crimson.

  His eyes are open but vacant. I wave my hand in front of them.

  Nothing. No reaction.

  Frowning, I crouch down and press two fingers into his throat. It takes a second, but I feel his pulse eventually. It’s soft though. Faint.

  He needs a doctor. That much is obvious. But I’ll be damned if I call an ambulance to my house to come get him. My father would have a fucking stroke if I brought that kind of negative attention to the Foster household.

  Which means I need to move him myself. But the bastard is heavy. I’ll need help.

  Scowling, I go kicking in the doors to the guest bedrooms. I’m looking for…

  There.

  Caleb is asleep on top of the bedspread with a naked girl spooned up against him. I stride over and jab him in the side.

  “Mmf?” he says sleeplily, looking around.

  “Get up. We have work to do.”

  “The fuck…?”

  I don’t bother answering his questions. There’ll be time for that later. Right now, we need to get Dallas the fuck out of my house.

  I hear a soft groan from the en-suite bathroom. I walk over and shove that door open.

  J.C. is in the tub, jeans around his ankles, while a black-haired sophomore chick slurps on his cock. His eyes are lidded with satisfaction, but when he sees me, they shoot open.

  “Time’s up,” I tell him. “Get rid of her. I need you.”

  “I’m a little busy, amigo,” he replies in a drunken slur.

  My eyes narrow. “It wasn’t a fucking question, J.C. Get rid of the whore. Now.”

  He growls, pissed off, but he shoves the girl off his dick in the same motion. I turn away to give him some privacy.

  Back in the bedroom, Caleb is shrugging on his shirt.

  “What’s the big fuckin’ deal?” he grumbles.

  “You’ll see.”

  When J.C. emerges, I lead them both to the bathroom where I left Dallas.

  Caleb’s eyes widen when he sees what’s behind the door. “Fuuuuck..” he breathes. “That is… not good.”