Not My Prince: A Dark Bully High School Romance

by L V Chase

  I make my way to her room in the dorm where they house the poor kids. Even if I hadn’t been here already, it’s be easy to find. Every other room has pictures of half-naked girls in suggestive poses plastered to their door, as if the girls inside are trying to advertise that their the biggest slut on the block. Which they probably are.

  Only one of the door's isn't decorated like that, although there's remnants of torn scotch tape and damaged varnish from where somebody removed a whole bunch of pictures in a hurry.

  I can see the light peeking out from the crack at the bottom of the door, and then the shifting shadows. She's inside. I knock.

  "Cin," I say. "Open up."

  There's a pause. A muffled voice replies. "Who is it?"

  I debate whether to lie and pretend that I'm a teacher or not. I decide against it.

  "Me. Grayson."

  There's a longer pause. I knock again. "Cin? Let me in."

  "Don't you have something better to do?" she says. "Other than being a constant dick?"

  "I just want to talk. If you don't open this door, I will." I fish out the school's master key from my back pocket.

  There's no response, so I unlock the door. The door swings inward just as I remove the key.

  "What the hell, Grayson?" Cin says. She stares at the key in my hand and shakes her head. "Forget it. I don't care."

  She tries to slam the door shut, but I push my right foot forward. The door bounces off the toe of my shoes. Cin slams it once more against my foot, huffs, and steps away.

  I enter the room and shut the door behind me. Cin's glaring at me, her arms across her chest, her lips pressed tightly into a frown. She's wearing a basic white tank top and black boy shorts, nothing fancy, but now that she's in front of me, I'm hungry again for another taste. Her strong, sleek curves, the way the thin cotton hugs her hips, her chest. Her hair's tied back in a ponytail, giving me a clear view of the line along her collarbone and neck where I was kissing her the other night.

  Cin notices me checking her out, and shifts from one foot to the other. She looks down at her feet, then back to me. Is it my imagination, or are her cheeks flushed, just a little? Her breathing's heavy, and she's biting one lip now.

  "You said you're going to talk?" Cin mumbles as her eyes dance all over me. She looks away again. "Then, talk."

  I step towards her and wrap her in my arms. I lean over, kissing her lightly on the lips. I had meant to give her a light peck, a teasing gesture, but the moment our lips touch and I taste her sweet breath, I can't hold back. My mouth opens wider and presses harder into hers. Our tongues tangle, and we spend a good minute losing ourselves in panting breaths.

  Her hands slide over my chest, and she grabs onto me for a second before abruptly pushing me backward.

  "What are you doing?" Cin asks.

  Her chest is still rising and falling with heavy breaths, but her brows are furrowed. She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.

  I give a small shrug. "Talking."

  Cin rolls her eyes, although the corners of her lips twist into a small smirk before quickly vanishing into a frown. She does her best to scowl.

  "What is this?" Cin motions to herself and me with her hands. "You act like the biggest asshole, and then..." Cin shakes her head. "Like what the fuck? Is this a big joke to you? Another laugh for you and your sister?"

  It's my turn to frown when she mentions Aurora. "No, this isn't about her. It's about you...and me."

  "Really?" Cin asks, her green eyes once again taking on their familiar fire. "Because from what I could tell, there is no fucking you and me, other than that one time I made a mistake."

  I reach out to take Cin by a shoulder, but she jerks it away. I lower my hand.

  "It's not so simple," I say. "If you think Aurora and the others are bad now, do you know how they'd act if I treated you any better? You're an outsider, a threat in their never-ending search for, you know, me, or the next best thing. Those bitches are vicious. They’d do anything to make sure someone like you doesn't steal their prize. This is for your own good."

  Cin makes a face. "You're so full of shit. Aurora's your sister, why would she care? And you're doing what for my own good? Treating me like some two-bit whore? God, I was stupid."

  I take a deep breath. There's some truth to what she's saying. But I'm not making things up about the other girls, either. Everyone knows what Grayson Voss is like. I can't waltz around with a damn scholarship girl like I actually care. Because I don't care, damn it, I can't.

  When I don't reply, Cin lowers her head. "Just go, Grayson. Can't you find someone else to fuck? Just snap your fingers and get someone on your lap. I don't know why you're even here."

  I step closer to her. This time, I take her by the hand, and she lets me hold on. It's trembling.

  "Because I like the way you touch me with these." I lace my fingers through hers for a moment.

  I reach up to rub my thumb lightly across her lips. "Because I like the way you taste."

  My hand runs through her hair and down the side of her neck. "Because I like the way your neck fits into mine when I'm breathing you in."

  She inhales sharply as my hand continues running down her front until I'm cupping a breast. "Because I like the way you kiss harder when I hold you."

  Both of my hands are on the sides of her hips, then I'm gripping her ass. Her arms are around my neck by now.

  "Because I like the way you wiggle when I squeeze these." I massage her, pulling her butt’s cheeks apart and back together.

  Cin writhes against my body, murmuring softly.

  My fingertips caress the backs of her thighs before circling back to the front. "Because I like the way these tense and pull, the way they're going to wrap around me—"

  She grabs me by the head, devouring my mouth like a hungry lioness. Her hands leave my head, and the next thing I know, she's tugging at my pants.

  I smile as I kiss her back. She'll always be mine.

  29

  Cin

  Sex was a way for me to get what I wanted—the affection that came from foreplay, mostly. It’s how my mother raised me to see sex, so it was my natural assumption. It was a means to an end.

  But with Grayson, the foreplay and the fucking are the intention and the reward. It’s a flood of self-confidence, a deep connection with him through quivering senses, and sheer unbridled joy.

  His hands move over my body, unbuttoning and unzipping my clothes. The clothes pile underneath me until I’m left in my underwear and bra.

  He whips his shirt onto the floor and starts undoing his belt. I unclip my bra. I drop it with the rest of my clothes. When I climb onto the bed, I feel his eyes lingering on my ass. I sway my hips and look back at him.

  The look in his eyes sends a tremor down my body, straight through to the longing between my thighs. I rest my head on my pillow, squeezing the corner of it as I watch him shed the rest of his clothes. When he pulls down his boxers, I press my face against my pillow, shivering in anticipation.

  The bed shifts as he joins me. His body skims across my body before pressing down onto me. He kisses the back of my shoulder. His hand slips through my hair, tugging it sharply. His hot breath slides across my cheek as his hand slides down from my hair, across my ribs, over my hip, and grips onto my ass, squeezing it hard.

  He adjusts himself, his hands on either side of my waist, causing the mattress to sink underneath my stomach. The heat of his erection teases against my ass. I raise my hips as my legs open wider. His cock caresses my slit. I raise my hips higher. One hand slides under me, his fingertips making circles around my clit.

  His cock pushes against my entrance. The sensation of fullness rocks my body back and forth. He nudges in a couple of inches. His other hand slides down my back. I try not to tremble, but his hand glides along my skin before settling lightly on my ribs. He pushes in a couple more inches. He slides back out, leaving only the head in. As I take in an unsteady breath, he thrusts his hips forward. The a
ir is crushed out of me as a low growl slips out of him.

  His mouth presses between my shoulder blades. I grind up against the hand underneath me, but then he pulls his hand away, teasing me. He lazily brings his hand up to my breast, squeezing it.

  I try to pull his hand back down. He grabs my wrist, pinning it down beside my head. He pulls out of me again, a little further out this time. I take another shaky breath.

  He fucks me hard. The bed frame is a solid beast of a thing, but it still teeters as he thrusts. All I can see are the fabric of my pillowcase and the sight of his fist holding down my wrist. But nothing matters except my clit rubbing against the rumpled blankets and his cock ramming into me.

  His hand slides away from my wrist. It slides up my arm, over my shoulder, and down to my breast. His hand lingers for several thrusts before moving downward again. My abdomen smacks against his fingers as he slams into me harder. As he reaches just above my clit, I scoot my ass up higher to get the friction. He presses his fingers down hard, forcing my ass tight up against him and giving me the pressure I’ve been craving.

  I barely have a second before I sense the euphoria about to explode in me. It’s a storm of merciless pleasure, a hurricane sweeping through me. His body stiffens over me, and he grips onto my hips hard as he comes, which only enhances the torrent of bliss.

  After several seconds of our heavy breathing, I turn around to face him. Sweat clings to his face, and his eyes are warmed by desire—the Arctic Ocean melting into a Hawaiian beach. I touch his cheek. He kisses the inside of my palm, then my mouth. I close my eyes, letting the moment sink in.

  The world isn’t so bad after all.

  My morning alarm mumbles a song under my pillow. I pull it out, turning it off.

  A slow smile spreads across my face.

  I throw my legs off the bed, quickly bouncing to my feet. I check myself in Diana’s full-length mirror. Bruises paint my skin, marking a trail along my body. It starts at my left breast, wanders down to my abdomen, crosses over to my wrist, on my ass, and the back of my thighs. I press down on a few of them, remembering how much rougher Grayson’s hands were—how good it felt to be a casualty of his strength.

  As I get ready, I try to shake off the memory of last night, but trying to forget only makes it more insistent and real. When I close my eyes, it’s all I see.

  When I step into the dining hall, I’m still replaying the sensation of Grayson’s legs rubbing against mine. I remember his breath against my cheek and his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist. I rub my fingers over the bruise. I never expected myself to put up with a relationship that’s hidden from everyone else, but I don’t think I could give up memories like last night’s.

  For once, I’m early enough to see Jay at the counter, waiting for his breakfast. I bounce up to him. He raises an eyebrow at me.

  “What’s up with you?” he asks.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve never seen you this happy.”

  I shrug. “You know what they say about eight hours of sleep. It’s good. Or something like that.”

  He crinkles his nose. “Sure, Buddha.”

  The cook hands him his sandwich. He steps aside to wait for me.

  “Hi,” I say to the cook. “Could I get the Fiesta Sandwich? Thanks.”

  Grayson’s voice cuts through the noise. I catch the word “bitter” as I look over. Under the direct sunlight of the dining hall’s massive windows, he looks pale and idle. When he’s away from me, he returns to that cold, distant god of Roman Academy, not the warm-blooded, feral man I remember touching. He tucks a strand of hair behind a woman’s ear.

  Diana’s ear.

  When did Diana start sitting at that table? When did she stop eating with the other DDDD girls?

  Grayson leans toward her, whispering something in her ear. She giggles, bright pink patches rising into her cheeks. She’s so damn happy. And who could blame her?

  After all the shit I put up with Grayson, after all his claims that he was ignoring me for my sake, after the sex we’ve had—he’s going to flirt with Diana? Isn’t he worried about saving her from jealous bullshit?

  We’d fucked right in front of her plush polar bear.

  As the cook hands me my sandwich, I grab onto Jay’s arm with my other hand. His face crinkles with confusion, but I just smile at him.

  “Hey, you ready to head to the art room?” I ask. “I’d love to see what you’ve been working on.”

  “The art room’s closed,” he says. “Ollie’s using it for something he calls art yoga.”

  I lean closer to him, my chest brushing against his arm. “That sounds fun. We should do that.”

  “It sounds like a mess, and you needed to reserve a place before the first day of class.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can’t, anyway. I have to go take a test I missed when I was gone…” he says. “Apparently, skipping class has consequences. I just wanted to check if you were okay. I texted you last night, but you never texted back.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I say, taking a step back. “I went to bed early.”

  “Right,” he says. He raises his orange juice to point towards the door. “If you don’t want to hang around here, I could walk you to the student center. It has a small café, and they don’t mind students eating there.”

  I take a deep breath, trying not to look at Grayson again. “That’d be great.”

  As we walk across campus, I try to focus on the glitter of the dew on the grass or the flicker of light on the leaves as they sway in the wind, but I keep seeing Grayson whispering to Diana.

  What did he tell her?

  Did he tell her that she looked beautiful?

  Did he make a dirty joke, reserved just for her?

  Did he lie to her about where he was last night?

  Jay stops in front of the student center. “The café is just to the right when you step in.”

  “Thanks, Jay.” I adjust the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m being weird today.”

  “You keep things interesting,” he says. He takes a few steps backward. “Wish me luck.”

  “I know you don’t need it,” I say. “But good luck.”

  After he walks away, I step into the student center.

  I sit down at one of the tiny tables in the cafe. I take a bite of my sandwich. It’s heavy on the peppers but not too bad.

  When the building’s automatic doors slide open, I should be more surprised when it’s Grayson who storms in. Instead, I take another bite of my sandwich. This is less of a fiesta and more sinus abuse.

  He stops in front of my table, crouching down, so we’re nearly face to face.

  “What the fuck,” he whispers. “We sleep together, and now you’re trying to fuck that bohemian nightmare?”

  I set my sandwich down. “That’s what you’re going with? Accusing me of sleeping around? Pot, kettle. Maybe when you knocked on my door, you were hoping it was Diana there.”

  His lip curls up. “No. I always find what I want, and I did last night, too.”

  “It didn’t seem like that way five minutes ago.”

  “That’s a different story,” he says.

  “Then, start story time.”

  “It’s private. None of your business.”

  “Of course,” I say. “The two of you playing footsie is very, very private. I almost would have missed it if it weren’t for my two eyes.”

  “Listen, Cin,” he pulls a chair over, sitting so close to me that the alcohol on his breath wafts over. “It’s related to my father’s business. Nothing personal.”

  “Oh, right,” I say. “Yes. Your father’s business as a TV guy. He needs you to sleep with Diana for that. I get it now. TV ratings are definitely connected to the length of Diana’s orgasms.”

  “I didn’t cheat with her,” he hisses. “Just believe me, Cin. Please.”

  I stare at him. The coldness I’d seen in him at the dining hall is gone. It’s been repl
aced by a turbulent heat. “Fine.”

  “I have to get back,” he says. His fingers brush against my hand. I don’t pull back. “I told them I left something in my gym locker.”

  He quickly gets up. I watch him until he reaches the doors. I look down at my sandwich, the spiciness of it suddenly lacking.

  I shouldn’t believe him. Everything he said sounds like the type of complete a bad liar would come up with.

  But he told me he didn’t cheat with Diana, which implies that we have enough of a relationship that he could cheat on me in the first place. And he begged me to believe him. Grayson Voss doesn’t fucking beg. It’s enough for me to cling onto right now.

  30

  Grayson

  Classes are done for the day. I'm hanging out at the statue with a couple of the regulars, Eric, some boys, some girls, not doing much when something catches my eye in the distance. There's a figure walking away from me, but even at this distance, I can't help but stop and stare. She's wearing slim-fitting blue jeans and a tee, nothing fancy, not like most of the other girls.

  I slowly smile. I'd recognize that perfect ass anywhere. It's Cin. She pulls off that simple look effortlessly. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Cin in anything nice outside of that one time at Homecoming, not that it matters. I let my eyes linger on her for another moment before I get up. I realize, then, that she's carrying what looks like artwork.

  Eric glances up and makes to follow. I shake my head.

  "I'll be back." I walk at a brisk pace to catch up with her. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do. Play nice? Put on a show? It doesn't matter. I just want to see her and have her see me.

  I slow as another familiar figure appears in front of me. It's Aurora. Unlike Cin, she's dressed like she's going to an event. Heels, hip-hugging maroon dress that cuts off above the knee, gold glittering on her wrist and neck.