Page 63

Story: Princes of Chaos

Mine might be a little, too.

I should spin her around and bury my cock in her right here.

Instead, I say, “My turn for a question, too.”

“A... question?” Her green eyes are glazed as she watches my mouth.

Humming, I pitch forward, but it’s barely a twitch. Just enough to make her think I might go in for a second kiss. “Oakfield. What did he do to get kicked out of DKS?” She stiffens, almost imperceptibly, like she’s not sure if she should say something. I tisk. “I answered your question. It’s only fair.”

She meets my gaze, some of that lust falling away. It leaves her with a flustered aura, a lock of her hair sticking to her damp mouth. “He made a big scene at the poker game last fall. Treated the Duchess with disrespect.”

The DKS poker game is the stuff of Forsyth urban legend. High stakes, lots of booze, tons of entitled alumni, and always a good show. I nod, a few pieces of the puzzle becoming clearer.

“How much disrespect?” I ask, using a finger to brush that lock of hair aside.

Her eyelashes flutter. “Enough that I’m surprised he still has a cock between his legs.”

My eyebrows raise and I can’t help but laugh. “Anything else?”

Her fingers curl around the doorknob at her hip, throat jumping with a swallow. “He’s bitter he didn’t get a leadership spot. Nick coming back knocked him from contention.”

Right. The legacy.

“Thank you, Princess.” I run my hand down her neck, thumb grazing her collarbone, and I watch her pulse quicken. “That’s very helpful.”

“What are you going to do with him?” she asks, and something flickers in her eyes. It’s not fear, or even concern, but I can’t quite place it.

“What we’ve agreed to.”

The urge to bury myself in her again overwhelms me. My dick has been hard since I drained into her an hour ago. But even I know I have to pace myself.

Speaking of…

“Oh, and Princess?” I take her hand and brush my lips over her knuckles, pinning her with my gaze. “The next time I taste one of my brothers instead of your delicious cunt, I’m not going to be so gentle.” Spinning on my heel, I leave her there, gaping and outraged as I toss her a lazy wave. “Freshen it up for tomorrow, Red.”

The next morning,I drag ass. Getting ready for class, the whispers of a hangover stab behind my temples, and I don’t even bother with breakfast. The only thing that even gets me out of bed at all is the prospect of emptying my balls again. In the spirit of avoiding Danner, I jam a pair of sunglasses over my eyes and take the shortcut, ducking through a panel in the back of my closet.

Prince Whitaker: You ready for class?

Princess: Yes.

Prince Whitaker: Meet me at the upstairs landing.

I take a sharp right, my headache reluctantly waning in the soothing darkness of the passageway. It’s dusty here behind the walls. Old and hushed and full of secrets. One time, when we were fourteen, we were carrying supplies down to the dungeon, and I asked Lex if we should be worried about rats. He just looked at me with that exasperated expression of his and said, “Wick, wearethe rats.” That’s what being in here makes me feel like, small and a bit like a rodent, but also comfortably shrouded.

I stop at a spot I know well enough, quietly pushing aside a piece of wood. In the landing is a tall, ornately carved bookshelf, and an inch above a weathered book titledA History of Forsyth,is a spyhole.

I’m directly behind it.

I watch as Verity pauses on the landing, tucking a red curl behind her ear. I haven’t had the opportunity to really look at her. Last night, I was drunk, and I’ve been so angry at Father’s decision to hang this albatross over my neck that I haven’t let myself indulge. But now I’m sober, the edge slightly off after having gotten some pussy a mere seven hours ago. I take a moment to study the Princess.

She’s pretty enough, although sexy isn’t a word I’d use to describe her. Her green eyes are clear, like bottled glass. I can already tell those soft red lips are going to feel amazing wrapped around my cock. Her tits are nice, although a little small for my tastes, but her waist is narrow. I eye her hips, wide enough to get a good handful. Her pussy tasted sweet.

I run my hand down my cock, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it’s pointless. I’m still backed up, and if I don’t take my designated day by the reins, I’m going to have to wait another four days to get my dick into something warm and wet.

Fuck no.

I push my nail beneath the corner of the panel and the hidden door opens. Reaching out, I grab her by the arm. She yelps, but I’m engulfing her body in an instant, curling my palm over her mouth as I yank her inside the passageway.

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