Academy of Six: A Reverse Harem Academy Series (Origins of the Six Series Book 1)

by A. K. Koonce

Poor bastard is never going to live up to the hype of this fantasy cock.

  Beautiful, hushed laughter shakes out of his chest and the perfect rocking of his hips halts. “Did you just take a time out to check out my dick?” Amusement curls his lips in a way that makes his features so much softer than normal.

  I’ve never seen him smile. He’s always so brooding, so hateful.

  He’s beautiful when amusement lights up his emerald eyes.

  And when I wake up from this, I’ll never see it again.

  My brows tense and I shake my head quickly. “No. No. Carry on with your incubus ways.” My head tilts, and he meets me halfway when my lips press to his. That addicting rumbling laughter hums along my mouth even as he deepens the kiss with consuming flicks of his tongue.

  I want to get lost in his mouth. I never want him to leave. Not when, in some strange fucked up sort of way, I feel perfectly safe right here in this prison of a punishment. Even if my mind is drunk on what he’s doing to me.

  His big hands cup my ass like they’re meant to fit there, just perfectly. His fingers slip lower along the lacy edge of my panties, grazing at my soft flesh. My hips jerk when a finger slips inside and travels up the wet seam of my folds.

  He groans. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  And he’s kissing me again, his fingers mimics the thrusting movements of his tongue as he dives in and out of me. I ride his hand, craving more friction, needing something else entirely. He bites my bottom lip, then trails a sinful pathway down my neck.

  I don’t know how he manages, and I don’t care. I’m just thankful for the moment he growls out a curse and impatiently shoves aside the material of my panties as if he can’t be bothered to take them all the way off.

  Like he’s as desperate as I am.

  I watch, and maybe it’s a strange fascination, but Phoenix’s eyes stray between us too. Our foreheads touch, our eyes dilating as we watch him lift me just slightly higher.

  His movements are laced with hard violence, but he doesn’t hurt me. He’s gentle despite how much I can tell he’s holding back.

  I relish in everything he’s offering. I relish in the way he poises at my entrance and slowly, ever so slowly, pulls me down on top of him. He stretches every part of me with every hard inch of him. The feel if it pulls the breath right from my lungs and the sharp gasp that slips from my lips lingers between us like it’s something to share. His heated attention flicks over my face the moment I cling hard to his smooth shoulders.

  That hooded gaze holds on mine, watching me while he fucks me slowly. In a way, with him watching me intently, everything feels heightened. Every rocking move of his hips grinds firmly against my clit, drawing rasping sounds from my lips and bringing the coiling feeling in my core to unbearable heights.

  My hips match his slow, drawn out pace and when I work against him just right, he groans into me. His lips brush delicately over mine. It’s all a conflicting feeling as his kiss turns sweet and flicking but his cock slams into me harder, pulling deeper groans of darkness right from his chest and passing that sinful sound right into me.

  “Fuck, Izara.” It’s a worshipping tone that’s followed by a slow roll of his tongue, sliding his lustful words along my tongue until I feel them build within my chest.

  “What is wrong with me?” he growls in confusion. “You’re going to make me come.”

  I don’t understand his confusion but I shake my head emptily at him, pleading to extend the feeling of his cock sliding torturously along my sex before slamming so hard my head hits the wall.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers with a twisting smile. “I’m controlled. I can control myself, Izzy. I promise.” His words make me shiver from the cruel way he says them, taunting but honest.

  One big palm trails down my collarbone and he slides the rough feel of his hand across my nipple, pushing aside the shirt almost completely. Dark eyes hold my gaze with that hellacious look before dipping his head low and taking me in his mouth.

  The flat of his tongue circles with flicking quickness before sharp teeth rake over my sensitive flesh so hard that I scream. A growling sound of pleasure hums from his mouth and he does it all over again, his teeth meeting my skin at the same time as his cock grinds hard against the most perfect spot deep inside me.

  The soft locks of his hair tangle in my fingers and I hold him to me, my head thrown back while my hips work harder and harder against the head of his cock, the sensation building and building and building within me.

  Itt all shatters down the middle and rains painful pleasure through me on pulsing waves that clench around him, even as I continue to ride his cock on uneven thrusts until the feeling drifts into slow washing waves.

  A slamming sound hits just near my head and his whole body tenses, holding me to him like he’s never going to let me go, even as pieces of the wall crumble down into little chunks of rock on the dark stone floor. He holds himself up with one hand pounded into the wall, while still holding me to him in the most gentle way as his release trembles through every inch of his rigid body.

  His dick throbs hard within me, making me shift even more against him, which only makes him groan a torturous, sensual growl.

  My fingers slide down the sharp angles of his face while his temple settles firmly against my shoulder, his body a solid mass of locked muscles.

  It’s the strangest feeling of being completely calm and safe in this soulless demon’s arms. The warmth of his breath fans over my damp skin, and he never pulls back from me. He lets me ghost across his perfect skin with the slightest touch of my fingers along his jaw.

  “When I met you,” his tone crawls over the walls like a dark shadow finding its place, “I never would have pictured us like this, Feck.” Warm lips press to the side of my throat in a confusingly affectionate way.

  “I hate when you call me that.”

  His head lifts and he just stares at me for a long, long moment, his irises safely back to that warm pine color again. “Tell me what you really are and I’ll stop calling you a feck.”

  My heart sinks but I can’t seem to stop touching him.

  Even in my dreams he’s an asshole.

  “If I knew what I was, I’d tell you,” I whisper quietly, sadness tightening my tone despite how hard I swallow the feeling down.

  Pain slips into his gaze for a single second and I can’t stop myself from telling him even more.

  “If you knew what I’m capable of, you wouldn’t be holding me like this, that’s for sure.” I lean forward just because nothing is real right now and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take advantage of it.

  I nip at his lower lip, uncertainty still pulling at his features, but he kisses me back anyway, his palms lowering to fully grip my ass again.

  “Why do you say that, Iz? I can’t imagine not wanting your sinfully sexy body wrapped around mine for any reason,” he rasps, his tongue teasing mine slowly.

  His obliviousness hurts my heart.

  I press the sweetest kiss to that foul mouth of his. “The last man who fucked me got ripped apart by the monster who lives inside this sinfully sexy body.” I pause on that thought and he pulls back from my lips slowly at first, and then fully, sliding me down his hard, naked body until my feet gently touch the ground.

  That’s a good reaction from dream Phoenix. Smart. He’s a smart incubus.

  But this is my dream. And I need to get the most of it before I wake up to that gym class reality where my adoring boyfriend hates my guts and my classmates want to kill me simply for existing.

  My fingers slide through his fiery hair and I push at the back of his head.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, his eyes big with a bit of worry for the first time since I met the cocky demon.

  “No one’s ever given me head before. I’m trying to subtly get you to go down on me. Is it working?” I ask with a small smile tilting my lips.

  “By shoving my head down to your pussy, no. Your subtly sucks, Feck.”r />
  A small smirk pulls at my lips and he really is attractive when his asshole gene doesn’t sneak up on you.

  “Ask me nicely, and maybe you’ll get your way,” he whispers across my parted lips, my head tipping up to him even as he keeps space firmly planted between us. Slow, hinting touches skim up and down my sides, his fingers trailing all over my body while he waits for my reply.

  He’s either a powerful incubus or a total idiot for still touching me after what I told him about my past.

  Maybe he’s a powerful idiot.

  “Please?” I nearly kiss him, but he never lets my lips press to his.

  “Please what, baby?”

  My insides tangle with a wash of heat and desire.

  “Please fuck me with that sinful mouth of yours.” I arch up against him and his body never moves an inch closer even as I work my mouth along his, his tongue showing my pussy exactly what it’s missing while he kisses me so hard I whimper against his lips.

  I trust him for some weird reason.

  And he must trust me.

  Because his head dips lower and lower and lower.

  And this sweet soulless incubus spends the rest of the long, dark night keeping me company in the best way possible.

  Nine

  Saint

  He’s... smiling. In his sleep.

  It’s... unsettling.

  In the last two decades that I’ve known Phoenix Rutherford, he’s never shown as much emotion as he is right now and I know exactly why.

  He’s dreaming of her.

  Is he with her right now? Is he using his demon magic to slice into the veil of her subconscious?

  If he is, he has me to thank for that, fuck you very much. I knew this would happen. I don’t know what is living inside Izara Castillo, but I can feel it. The darkness of it, the power, it feels just like Phoenix. I don’t think she’s a succubus or any other kind of lower demon because something like that isn’t as quiet and patient as what she is. But they’re similar in some way. Maybe she’s a hellion with fire coursing through her veins blessed by the devil himself.

  She’s not a feck. That’s for sure.

  No feck could make a soulless like Phoenix feel whatever he’s feeling right now. Emotions just aren’t in him. There’s a void inside this man, and she’s somehow torn it away and found some fucking happiness in him.

  Or lust. Or both.

  The smile on his lips shifts, his fiery brows pulling low, his lips parting with a shaking breath that I can almost feel even from across the room right now.

  Shit.

  What is that innocent girl making my demon feel right now?

  His teeth grind together with the lowest groan rumbling through his chest, his fingers arching into his palms like he’s filling his hands with... her ass.

  I sit up straighter in my bed, glancing to the wolf sleeping on the top bunk across from me before peering back down at the main show currently holding all of my attention.

  My dick hardens almost painfully with the next rasping sound that crawls up his throat. A shift of the curtains wafts when I move so fast a sound never even registers in the silent room. That strong, thick throat of his offers up as his head tips back into his tattered pillow.

  And then... the hardness of his cock beneath the sheet pulses as dampness seeps through.

  “Holy, fucking feck,” I whisper with wide eyes held on his thickness that’s still throbbing while his groan echoes around the room.

  I’ve never in my life seen Phoenix actually feel anything during sex before. And I’ve fucked him first hand.

  Nothing.

  It’s like the emptiness in his heart is just a deep bottomless hole and no matter how many emotions you try to fill it with, it’s never enough for him to truly feel anything but hate.

  It’s the only thing in the world that makes me believe there’s a god like my mother says.

  There’s all this proof that there is a hell all around me. Demons like Phoenix are a surplus here. Angels. I’ve never met one. They’re lie for all I know.

  But the curses someone like my best friend here is damned with, it just makes me believe that someone out there thinks he should be punished.

  I hate them for that.

  I hate them for hurting him.

  And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Big green eyes open slowly, his bare chest rising and falling in rapid heaps of air.

  The tensing of his throat makes me wonder just how dry his mouth is for him to keep swallowing so hard like that. His wild eyes shift to me and my smirking face.

  “Is the sweet little prodless a good fuck?”

  He pushes up from his mattress so fast, I don’t even have time to react, until his lips are against mine, tasting me deeply. I can’t keep up. Big hands slide along my back and he pulls me down to him, rolling us until I’m pinned perfectly beneath him. The smooth planes of his chest press into mine, his cock grinding into me relentlessly and I thrust against him with more quiet groans slipping between my lips, his fingers fisting my dark hair hard enough to hurt.

  I groan against him, the pain building to a demanding pleasure.

  Harder and harder he grinds his dick against mine and harder and harder he kisses me, bruising our lips as he seems to search for something.

  And then he pulls back, a frustrated breath pushing from his lips, his teeth grinding with the murderous look in his gaze. His head shakes back and forth with agitation growing in him, his palms pushing through his short red hair with a bit too much force.

  “She really fucked with you, huh?” I can’t catch my breath, but I can’t help the excitement spiraling through me either.

  I knew she’d get to him.

  “She fucking... she made me come, and I felt... I felt everything,” His words shake with so much anger you’d think he wasn’t talking about how good the Prodless’s pussy felt.

  “You felt it? Like really felt it?”

  He nods.

  My fingers glide down the hard lines of his chest and when my palm slides around his thick shaft, he just stares down blankly. With slow strokes of my wrist, he watches, making me so hard it fucking hurts.

  His muscles, his dick, the way he moves, and the natural way he knows how to work his body in the best way with someone else's, it’s all sinful sexuality and I can’t help but remember how good he feels when we’re like this together.

  But his features never change.

  He’s erect and ready. But nothing whatsoever happens. Not for him. Not ever.

  Except today.

  “It was just a dream,” Phoenix whispers on a vacant breath.

  My touch slips away and if I had a heartbeat, it would be a sad little pathetic sound right now.

  Words that go unsaid cling to the surrounding silence.

  It was more than just a dream.

  The bed shifts hard beneath his weight and he shoves out of the small space, his perfect ass demanding my attention as he flings the closet door open. Slowly he pulls on a pair of khakis, his gaze lost along the dirty floor and the meddled thoughts I can see shifting across his face. One button after the other, he adjusts his shirt until it’s hugging the form of his biceps perfectly. He grabs the red tie from the rack and hangs it carelessly over his broad shoulders.

  His empty eyes meet mine, jawline set so hard I think it might crack across his flawless features.

  “I have to get to Demonology.” He grabs a binder off the small square table near the door and with his cock still straining his pants, he walks out.

  My head hits his lumpy pillow, a sigh tumbling from my lips.

  I knew the pretty little feck would get to him.

  It’s only a matter of time now.

  My eyes close peacefully.

  “Why the hell does it smell like a teenager’s dirty beat-off sock in here this morning?” Malek growls from the bunk above me, his heightened senses clearly giving away far too much of what he missed out on.

  Mmm, that’s just
the smell of my success.

  Ten

  Izara

  It happens in what I can only assume is the middle of the night. My endless loneliness finally comes to an end. The breath knocks from my lungs and I land on the thin mattress of my bunk with a gasp tearing from my throat.

  Muted moonlight pales the room and the first thing I do is look up at the incubus across from me. The vivid dreams were so real that I can taste his mouth against mine, his dick buried so deep inside me I can still feel him there.

  But he’s sound asleep now. Not thinking of me at all, I’m sure.

  I wonder if he worried about me, thought about me the way I strangely thought so much about him.

  It’s a stupid thing to consider. He’s not my real boyfriend. He’d be a terrible real boyfriend. He’s a shitty person in general, so it’s only natural to imagine him as a shitty friend, partner... lover.

  Then why I am I still thinking about him?

  He did something. I don’t believe those dreams were just innocent—incredibly dirty—dreams.

  Is the incubus really powerful enough to somehow control or manipulate my unconscious mind?

  I arch an accusing eyebrow at the peaceful sleeping demon.

  I’ll have to be careful around him from now on.

  Not just when I’m awake, I guess.

  Springs groan under shifting weight. Movement shuffles in the darkness and then a lean body covered in swirling black lines slips down from the bunk across from mine. Malek’s dark hair and amber eyes look completely black in the shadows of the room. He holds his finger to his lips before bending down to meet me at eye level, his boxers sliding up his strong thighs as he kneels there.

  “Scoot over,” he whispers, his accent cutting into his deep masculine voice.

  The pull of my brows is just the start of my confusion because the moment I shift, a gorgeous, half naked werewolf slides into bed with me.

  Wow. These dreams of mine are really getting elaborate.

  But I’m not dreaming. I know I’m not because instead of kissing me senseless, he keeps his hands sweetly to himself, his body heat washing over me and surrounding me with that scent of deep pine. He’s close, but not touching. Respectfully so.