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Story: Princes of Chaos

I bet it’s Photoshopped.

“That’s a good photo,” he says, the spread of his legs beckoning any available eyes to his crotch. “We played Whittmore. I had a hat trick. Were you there?”

“No,” I say, but halfway through a resolve to tell him I wouldn’t be caught dead at a lacrosse game, Pace shifts our clasped hands beneath the jacket on his lap.

Right to his unzippered crotch.

Pace smoothly cuts in. “We’ve played hockey together since our first boarding school. Lex in the net, me in the center, Wick on wing.”

Wicker looks away, all the smugness draining from his eyes. “Circumstances just made it better for me to shift to lacrosse the last few years.” While Pace was in prison. For what, no one has said, although he has made it clear it’s somehow my fault. Maybe for commandeering women’s hands and pushing them into his open fly.

A lot like he’s doing right now.

Sweat prickles up my neck as I glance over, confirming that nothing is visible to his brothers, but when I give a harder yank, he digs his fingers into my wrist, pitching close to speak into my ear.

“Today ismyday, Rosilocks,” he whispers with a breath that flutters the tendril of hair. “A Princess shall obey her Princes.”

Swallowing, I feel the creep of defeat as he guides my fingers through, the shock of his smooth, hard warmth unmistakable. Is that how this goes? Each one gets me for a day? It wouldn’t really matter. He’s right about the covenant. The very first one–one of the only covenants I was actually able to read before signing it, so I can’t even tell myself I didn’t know.

I let my hand rest on his erection, limp and still, as Lex speaks.

“You know why he’s doing this,” he says, looking between his brothers.

Pace snorts, giving nothing away. “You mean the thing where he wants to fill my time with extracurriculars, but Coach won’t take me unless he gets Wicker, too?” There’s a bitterness to his tone that makes his grip tighten, pushing my fingers around his hard shaft. “Yeah, thathadoccurred to us.”

Wicker laughs joylessly. “We were so close,” he says, head shaking as he stares out the window. “So fucking close to getting out.”

“You meanLexwas close,” Pace replies, running his fingertip around my pinky.

“No I wasn’t,” Lex argues. “I’m not out until you two are.” My ears perk at this, eyes flicking upward.Out? Out of what? Whatever they’re talking about, from the way they look at each other, it’s useful. Important.

I tighten my fingers around Pace’s shaft, asking Lex, “Does that mean you’re playing hockey, too?”

Pace inhales sharply, flexing his hips up.

Lex meets my gaze, his amber eyes tightening. “Of course not. I’m in my last semester of pre-med. My schedule won’t allow it.” Med school. Surely he’s already applied. Has he been accepted? “I’ll be too busy studying, escortingyouaround campus, working my internship, making my interviews, submitting papers, and I swear to fucking god, Pace.” His glare moves to his brother. “One dropof cum and we’re all fucked.”

Pace’s cock twitches in my frozen palm, a puff of laughter escaping his lips. “Relax, bro.” He gives my fingers a squeeze. “Just building some hype.”

“You’ve had almost two years of hype,” Lex says, jaw tense. “Bend her over the seat and shoot your load in her. She’s a Princess, not a Lady.”

This time when I move to yank my hand back, Pace lets me, my body jolting with the release. The humiliation burns my cheeks yet again, but it’s second fiddle to the way my stomach twists at Lex’s words.

From the slow smirk Wicker gives me, I’m guessing he sees. “We’re almost there. Are you ready for your first day on campus as Princess?”

I wipe my palm on my thigh, willing the lump from my throat. “Yes, I’m ready.”

The car comes to a stop in front of the student union and the driver hops out, opening the door. Lex and Pace, closest to the door, get out first. I move to go next, but Wicker grabs me and yanks me back. I land next to him, half on his lap.

“Let’s be sure.” Wicker’s hand lands on my knee, and he jerks it apart, making room for his fingers to creep under the hem of my skirt. “You’re to be at one of our sides all the time unless you’re in class. No speaking to other men or women outside academic obligations—especially anyone from DKS—maleorfemale.” His body is solid behind me, and when he speaks, I feel it wet against my neck, his lips dragging over my pulse point. “When we text, you respond. When we request your presence, you be there. When we touch you, you act like it’s the biggest fucking honor you can possibly imagine.”

I give a rapid nod, trying to remain as still as possible. I can feel his cock against my backside, already half hard. “Got it.”

The truth is, I’ve watched more than one Duchess go through the system. I’ve watched Story with her men. I’ve seen the other Princesses, and I understand what’s expected of me, at least in public. That was never a problem–the only parts of Royal life I’ve been trained for.

It’s the private parts that I’m struggling with.

He doesn’t withdraw his hand, pushing his fingers between my thighs. Ignoring the quiet, alarmed sound I make, he drags his lips up to whisper into my ear, hissing and urgent. “If today were mine, I’d tear this skirt off of you and make you wear the scraps of it all day. Pace is patient, and he likes a challenge. But don’t you fucking dare pull something like this for me.” His fingers brush against my core. “In fact, I don’t want you wearing any panties tomorrow at all.” Lips parting, sharp teeth pluck at my earlobe, making me flinch. “It’ll be our little secret.”

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