Kings of Mercia Academy 1-4: The Complete Bully Romance

by Sofia Daniel

  I flattened my tongue and ran it along the undersides of their joined erections, making them both shudder.

  Blake snickered. “Crossing swords is alright if there’s a girl involved. Isn’t that what you once said, Woody?”

  “I’m helping things along,” Edward said, his voice breathy. “As you quite rightly stated, the sooner she gets what she wants, the sooner we can plan what to do next.”

  Blake’s right hand left my breast, slipped over my ribs and belly, then settled between my legs. He rubbed gentle circles over my clit, which sent bolts of sensation traveling up to my navel and down my thighs. My muscles clamped around his thick erection, and he timed the movement of his fingers with his thrusting in and out of my core.

  Sweat gathered on my brow, and Blake continued his delicious combination of deep thrusts and caressing fingers over my throbbing nub. The hand on my breast now rolled my nipple in a series of tight movements which my body interpreted as intensely pleasurable.

  “Lucky girl gets to play with two cocks,” mused Blake.

  “Mmmm.” I lapped at both organs and ran my fingers along their lengths.

  Both Edward and Henry’s hips rocked against my hands, adding to the friction.

  Blake’s thick erection pleasured me from the inside, while his fingers played with my sensations as though he was manipulating an instrument. My body tensed and shuddered at his attention, and at the same time, the two gorgeous, heavy pricks demanded my concentration. A happy sigh escaped my lips. This was exactly the distraction I needed. With Edward in the mix, I could focus on the triumvirate and not my troubles.

  A giggle bubbled up in the back of my throat. If anyone told me at the beginning of my first term that I would be naked in front of the triumvirate, I would have laughed in their faces. But here I was twitching and shuddering under Blake’s ministrations and lapping at Edward and Henry’s cock-heads while sliding my fingers up and down their pulsing lengths.

  “I’m not going to last.” Blake’s hands dropped away from my nipple and clit and clenched my hips. After a few hard pumps, he shuddered and moaned. Through harsh breaths, he said, “The sight of you taking two cocks tipped me over the edge.”

  “Allow me.” Edward broke away and walked around to my back. After a bit of shuffling around and the tearing of a foil wrapper, Blake slid out, and Edward slid in.

  Blake’s tongue slid against my clit. A cry escaped my throat, muffled by Henry’s dick in my mouth, and my core muscles clamped around Edward’s thick length.

  Both Henry and Edward moaned.

  I clenched at the comforter and panted. With Blake’s tongue curling and swirling about my sensitive bundle of nerves, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would last.

  Edward continued thrusting in and out, while Henry took control of the blowjob and slid himself back and forth out of my mouth. I drew back and curled my tongue over his engorged head, enjoying the little moans and shudders I elicited from every stroke.

  Blake’s tongue lapped at my throbbing clit, making me clamp even tighter around Edward. Sensations more intense than I had ever felt radiated from the joining of our flesh, and I moaned around Henry.

  I lost focus, and spots danced before my eyes. With Edward pumping into me, Blake licking me senseless, and Henry making those slow, sensual slides in and out of my mouth, I could barely remember my name, let alone how I ended up being the center of attention for three hot guys.

  Pleasure built up around my clenching and shuddering core, expanding and intensifying to a point that teetered on agony. It was too much. I tried to tell Blake to ease off with that tongue, but Henry’s erection deep in my mouth smothered my words to incoherent moans.

  My legs, which were splayed open to accommodate both Blake and Edward, trembled with the onslaught of sensations. My arms shuddered, yet the boys continued plundering my body. Two sets of fingers—I don’t know whose—tugged at my nipples, and something within me snapped.

  Light flashed before my closed eyes, and spasm after spasm of sensations pumped out from my clenching and twitching core. My hips trembled with each mighty convulsion, squeezing Edward’s gorgeous, thick erection.

  “Argh!” Edward’s fingers dug into the flesh of my hips, and he thrust once, twice, three times, and shuddered. His hand rested between my shoulder blades, splayed fingers curling into my flesh.

  Blake’s tongue slowed to the gentlest of movements, intensifying the pleasure radiating from my clit and core. I gulped and groaned around my mouthful.

  Henry moaned and thrust to the back of my throat with long, deep strokes. His erection thickened, trembled, and spurted bitter, creamy fluid into the back of my throat. I swallowed my mouthful and moaned around his twitching length.

  He slid out from my lips, and my head flopped to the mattress. “T-thanks,” I said between panting breaths. “M-maybe we can build up to that double-penetration thing over the summer? It sounds fun.”

  The gong sounded for dinner, and Edward cupped my ass cheek. “Time to eat.”

  “I want a chateaubriand. Let’s go to the Saint-Nazaire,” said Blake.

  Henry hummed his agreement. “Steak au poivre, gratin dauphinois, crème brûlée.”

  “That sounds lovely!” I climbed over Edward, who deliberately tangled our limbs and held me for a few seconds. After I gave him a peck on the lips, he let me go. I padded across the wood floor to the corner of the room, where I kept my Louis Vuitton cases, and put on a pair of panties, skinny jeans, and a fitted tank top.

  Edward’s gaze lingered on my breasts, and a smile curled his lips. “And there’s always Armagnac à l’Emilia.”

  I narrowed my eyes and placed my hands on my hips. “That sounds like drinking Armagnac off my body.”

  “Out of her belly button?” Henry threw on a rugby shirt and jeans.

  “I can think of better places.” Blake pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He threaded his fingers through his hair and somehow managed to style it.

  Chuckling, Edward slipped on a pair of boxers and walked across the room. He wrapped his arms around my middle and pressed a kiss on the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “Did that help?”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. “Until I climaxed, but the nerves are creeping back.” Twisting in his arms, I rested my head on his shoulder and inhaled his cypress and cedar scent.

  “It’s understandable.” He hugged tighter. “But Rudolph can’t legally take you away without the consent of your mother.”

  “But illegally…” said Blake.

  “We won’t let you out of our sight.” Henry embraced me from behind and kissed the crown of my head. “We can spend summer in one of the villas. There’s one near Valencia in case you want to practice your Spanish.”

  “Or we can spend the summer in Largs Castle.” Blake reached between them and ruffled my hair. “It’s my stepfather’s private residence.”

  “That might be an option,” said Edward. “We can take a car and drive up to Scotland. Pay for petrol with cash, in case Rudolph decides to trace our cards, and stay there until term starts.”

  Unease settled in my stomach. Hiding from Rudolph wasn’t the answer. “He knows where my brother and sister live. I’m sure he’ll do something to them if I disappear.”

  Everyone’s shoulders sagged. Edward groaned. “Apart from murdering him ourselves, what can we do?”

  Henry’s nostrils flared. “He’s a fragile, old man. One punch, and—”

  “It’s manslaughter,” said Blake. “There’s an article on one-punch killings on the BBC website.”

  “Even if you don’t kill him, he has the power to ruin you.” I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Maybe we can visit Philippe in prison and see if he’s willing to testify against Rudolph.”

  Edward sighed. “It’s worth a try, but I fear that Rudolph already has a contingency plan to deal with those who know his deepest secrets. Something more binding than a non-disclosure agreement.”

  Blake shouldered on a blazer
. “What about Charlotte’s honey—”

  My eardrums reverberated with the boom of a gunshot.

  Chunks of wood splintered from the door. Before I knew it, Henry yanked me down and threw himself over my body. Ice flooded my veins. This had to be one of Rudolph’s guards, come to drag me to that asylum in Moldova.

  I raised my head and found Mr. Carbuncle storming toward us with a sawed-off shotgun, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine. Terror seized my heart in its crushing grip. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t tell Henry to run. By the time I forced in a breath, the caretaker slammed the butt of his gun on Henry’s head. His entire body went limp, and he crushed me under his weight.

  A scream ripped from my throat, and I placed my hands on Henry’s shoulders, trying to get out from under him. My blazer lay a few feet away. If I could reach it and the pepper spray, it might buy some time for campus security to arrive—or the police.

  With an almighty kick, Mr. Carbuncle shoved Henry aside, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me to my feet. Blake rushed at him, but the man pushed him hard into the wall.

  “Stop,” I cried.

  “Carbuncle.” Edward pointed something at the man. I couldn’t see what, but he said, “Let go of—”

  Mr. Carbuncle aimed his gun at Edward and fired.

  Cold shock hit me in the gut. My legs gave way, and I fell to my knees. He had shot Edward in retaliation for Edward shooting him.

  Mr. Carbuncle picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He ran down the stairs like a rampaging bull, shoving screaming students aside. Each movement aggravated the remnants of the wounds he had given me a month ago, and nauseating contractions seized my stomach. I emptied its contents over the man’s broad back, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t falter.

  He reached the downstairs hallway and raced through the entrance hall.

  “I will not condone this behavior in Elder House,” cried the voice of Mr. Jenkins. “Stop, before I call campus security!”

  Bitter loathing rippled through my insides, and dregs of puke spilled from my lips. Mr. Carbuncle was long past reasoning. He had shot Edward. Mr. Jenkins needed to call for a police swat team, not threaten him with a group of underworked security staff.

  The caretaker whirled around and fired his shotgun. “Fuck off, you sanctimonious ponce!”

  Even with my pulse pounding in my skull, and with my ears ringing from the gunshots, I heard the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground.

  Screams filled the hallway, and adrenaline filled my veins. I writhed in his grip and nearly fell off, but his arm secured me in place.

  Mr. Carbuncle sprinted through the entrance hall and out of the double doors, where a jeep awaited with its engine still running. Panic crushed my windpipe and cut off my air. If I got into that vehicle, he could take me anywhere. Images flashed before my mind of forests, out-of-the-way fields, and the bottom of a ditch. I thrashed my arms and legs, but he flung the passenger door open and threw me inside.

  My head hit the dashboard, and everything went black.

  Chapter 19

  The pounding in my head overwhelmed my senses. It was like I had a boom-box instead of a brain. Reverberations of intense pain struck with each beat of my pulse. My ears rang as though I’d fallen asleep next to a siren, and something scratchy irritated my back. It could have been a blanket, or it could have been an ant’s nest. Right now, it was a struggle not to drown in the fog of pain and confusion and nausea threatening to engulf me back into unconsciousness.

  A rough hand massaged my breast, a tongue lapped at my nipple, and bristles brushed against the surrounding skin. Shivers of revulsion scattered across my skin like an army of centipedes, and memories of the shooting slammed back to the forefront of my mind. I wanted to open my eyes, but the thought of seeing that man’s face up close was too much to bear.

  “M-Mr. Carbuncle…” I whispered. “S-stop.”

  He raised his head from my chest and let in a gust of fresh air.

  “You smell like you’ve just been fucked.” His breath ghosted over my skin, bringing with it the mingled stench of strong alcohol and stale tobacco.

  Nausea swirled in my stomach. It spasmed, but nothing came out. I turned my head and tried to escape his scent, but it was a futile effort.

  Mr. Carbuncle shifted, so his mustache tickled my ear. In a breathy, excited voice, he whispered, “I wanted to fuck you while you were sleeping, but then I’d miss those little expressions.”

  Pain mingled with relief, and shallow breaths moved in and out of my lungs. He hadn’t removed my jeans—yet. I cracked an eye open to examine my surroundings, but the man straddled my thighs and lay on top of me, resting his weight on his limbs. His bulk blocked my view of everything except an ancient tree whose branches curled and twisted on a ground consisting of bare soil. The sun hung low in a cloudy sky, indicating that hours had passed.

  I clenched my teeth, still not daring to look at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve wanked over your pics? Can’t get enough of them. Wanted to see you up close.” He ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of my ear.

  All the muscles of my upper body seized. I cried, “Stop!”

  “This time, there won’t be no Peter to interrupt us.”

  “D-did my stepfather pay you to do this?” I gasped out. “I-I have money in my account. You can take it all if you leave me alone.”

  “Trommel?” He cupped my breast. “Once I’ve sent the ransom letters, old Rudolph will pay a fortune to have you back.”

  My stomach dropped. He didn’t know. Didn’t know that Philippe had set up the original abduction as a way to make me suffer. Didn’t know that Rudolph would use me as a tool to control Mom. The old bastard would probably leave me in Mr. Carbuncle’s clutches until I was dead.

  “D-didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what, cock-slut?” He ran his huge hand down my belly and slipped his thick fingers into the waistband of my jeans.

  I wriggled and jerked, trying to throw off his filthy hand. “Peter and Philippe are in jail—”

  “I heard about Pete.” His fingers skimmed the lace of my panties.

  “But Rudolph paid Philippe to arrange the kidnapping.”

  Mr. Carbuncle’s hand stilled, and he said nothing for a tense moment. “Why the fuck would he have his own stepdaughter abducted and beaten up?”

  “H-he was planning to draw the story out for weeks to sell more newspapers.” My mind whirred for ideas. I got the impression that he would empathize with Rudolph if I told him the syphilis story. “And hurting me was a favor to Charlotte. She was sleeping with Philippe and Rudolph.”

  “The dirty fucker,” he snarled. “He won’t pay out, then?”

  “But I will.” My throat convulsed. “If you let me go, I’ll give you everything in my bank account.”

  Mr. Carbuncle drew back, taking away his awful hand. I filled my lungs with warm, fresh air and glanced from left to right at my surroundings. Bare-branched, twisty trees stretched out for several yards and beyond them was what looked like a forest.

  “You can do online banking, right?” He ran his tongue along the underside of his bushy mustache.

  “Yes, but the account with all the money needs a signature for withdrawals.”

  “Then I’ll keep you until we can get to a branch on Monday.” His gaze flickered down to my bare breasts. He reached back at a spot by his feet and retrieved a tub of vaseline. “Bought this for you in case we had trouble getting you loose enough for anal. There’s a lot we can get done until then.”

  Panic exploded across my chest, and adrenaline filled my veins. I thrashed my arms, but the ropes encasing my wrist kept them above my head. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let Mr. Carbuncle touch me. “S-sir! You have to let me go.”

  He pinched my nipple so hard, pain radiated across my chest and made me wince. “Why’s that, then?”

  “He took my mom hostage.”


  I snatched my gaze away from the overgrown mustache obscuring the middle third of his face. Ideas, images, memories scrambled through my mind, looking for anything I could use to stop the caretaker from proceeding with his plan. My desperate mind latched onto the visual of Mrs. Carbuncle stepping into Edward’s limousine.

  “That’s what Rudolph’s good at,” I said. “Taking. Mothers. Hostage.”

  The tub of vaseline fell to the forest floor.

  “What did you say?” he whispered.

  “He took my mom hostage.”

  My throat dried, and my pulse beat so hard against my eardrums, it drowned out the sounds of the birds. I had to make this explanation as convincing as possible so he would think about his own mother.

  “M-mom went to another country to hide from that brute, but he brought armed bodyguards to find her. Rudolph came to the academy today and tried to make Mom sign some papers to have me institutionalized.”

  Still keeping those wild eyes on my face, Mr. Carbuncle rose to his feet. My stomach lurched. Would he kick me in the belly for lying as he had done in that abandoned apartment?

  A gut-wrenching silence stretched out for an eternity while the caretaker remained rooted to the earth. Tiny tremors twitched across his face, and his lips twisted under his unkempt mustache.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a trembly breath. There was no telling what was going on in the mind of that lunatic. Right now, I had to be careful with what I said next. Pushing the kidnapped mother angle might make him wonder how I knew Mrs. Carbuncle was missing. If I told him outright that Rudolph had taken his mother, then he might punish me for not telling him earlier.

  “Fuck,” he snarled.

  Without meaning to, my eyes snapped open, and my gaze traveled up from the dungarees pooled around his ankles, over bowed legs covered in a thick coating of matted hair, and to a deflating, mushroom-shaped penis that curved out of a nest of pubes as bristly as his walrus mustache.

  My gaze skipped past a bristle-covered beer belly, and outsized pecs with the largest nipples I’d seen on a man, to his stricken face. “S-sir? What’s wrong?”