KNIGHT: A Dark High School Bully Romance

by L. J. Woods

  “Don’t forget I have something on you, Damien,” I call, pulling back the curtain but when I do, he’s still there — with a smirk. He’s fucking with me but two can play this game. Swallowing the emotions clouding my judgement, I stare him in the eye before pulling back the curtain some more. I’m giving him a clear view of my wet, albeit very tired and exhausted, body.

  As I hoped, his eyes drop to my tits before his head tilts to the side, his lip going behind that perfect row of teeth. He growls, “And what’s that?”

  “I know who killed your father,” I smirk. “And now I know it wasn’t me.”

  His eyes flick back to my gaze and he smirks right back. Like he’s proud. “Are you threatening me, Medusa?”

  “Is that what you want to call it?” I position my tits so it catches the water just right. I want him to drool over the way the water glistens down my body like a dipped strawberry.

  He chuckles, inhaling a deep breath before his hand comes to my throat. “It would be hot if my life wasn’t on the line.” He stares me in the eye and it gives me chills. He thinks I’m at his mercy but he’s about to be at mine. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Medusa?” He steps into the shower, clothes and all, and we’re trapped together again.

  “Tell me who did it and I won’t,” I say.

  He keeps a light grip, the air still able to pass but he brings his head closer, his dark hair drenched. “Are you fucking with me, Rowland?” His eyes narrow, brows knitting together and I know he’s trying to figure me out but it’s time for my big distraction.

  My hand goes to his cock and as I suspect, he’s already raging hard through his jeans. My clit throbs but, fuck, I need to stay focused. Bringing my head as close to him as I can with his hand around my throat, I bite into his lip before I speak against them, “Maybe I am.” His zipper’s slippery from the water but I get down, the smell of my coconut body wash mixing with his scent.

  “Careful,” he says, that voice like a low, growling warning.

  “I can’t promise I will be.” Grabbing his cock through his boxers, he releases a breath against my lips. It gets harder in my hand and I’m starting to crave seeing Damien at my mercy. I’m always at his, but this changes and it changes now. “Are you going to play nice?”

  A grunt escapes his lips. He loosens his grip around my neck when I start sliding my wet palms up and down his long shaft. “Fuck, Jo,” he groans. “Are you?”

  Bringing my lips to his, he reaches forward, almost touching it. “No,” I say before I slither to my knees. I’m face to face with his cock. It glistens from the shower like a sparkling royal staff and I’m reminded how beautiful this beast is … and how big. Tilting my head to the side I’m wondering how I’m going to fit this all in. I get a taste, flicking my tongue against the tip and it gets a groan out of him.

  “Tell me what you know.” I give his pecker sweet little pecks.

  He growls, his hand coming through my wet curls, “Don’t be a tease.”

  “I won’t tease if you won’t.” I give him that slow, sexy voice I know he likes, but that makes him grip my hair tighter. I run my tongue down his shaft, smooth and long. “Let’s play fair, King.” He groans, his cock twitching. He loves it when I call him that. Opening wide, my tongue covers the head of his dick before I take him in my mouth.

  His hand lands against the shower and he loosens the grip on my hair to pull his t-shirt off. Glancing up, my body betrays me. The feeling of his throbbing cock on my tongue, while I’m looking up at who may as well be a god, is sinful. I know I’m wet but I ignore it.

  Unfortunately, that’s a task almost harder than he is.

  “Jesus, Jo,” he groans and now I’m realizing why we don’t do this more often. If Damien’s cock inside me turns me into putty, his cock in my mouth seems to do the same trick to him. “You’re not playing fair at all.” That gratifying moment of having him in my control disappears when his dominant side comes back to play. With one hard thrust, he shoves his cock in my mouth, my eyes springing open when it hits the back of my throat.

  “This what you want?” he grunts, keeping my head in place as he fucks my mouth. “You want my hard cock in your dirty little mouth?” Slobber and spit spill down his shaft, dripping onto the shower floor and down the drain. “God, you’re so fucking good.”

  That’s right. Praise me.

  He starts pumping in my mouth harder and I’m working my tongue, giving him my all. If this is going to work, I’m gonna have to give him the blowie of his life. He gets harder, his pace getting frantic. “Holy fuck … ” he groans and I know he’s almost there. So I stop, taking his soft, heavy balls in my hands, rolling them around.

  Looking down at me his bluish greys fill with lust and want. While it stirs me inside and makes me want nothing more than for Damien to bend me over and take me, I look up at him and flutter my eyes. “Are you going to tell me? Or are these things going to turn blue?”

  He smirks and it’s as if he likes seeing this side to me, as manipulative and power-hungry as he is. “You’re as evil as I am, Jo.”

  I am and if he’s not going to tell me this ends right here. I’m about to get up from my knees but he holds my head. I look up at him, “If you want to know how it feels to have your cum drip down my throat with your cock still in my mouth, you should let me know. Who was it?”

  “It—” His words cut short when my lips wrap around his shaft again and I swear I see his knees almost buckle. “Fuck, Jo.” I’m going faster, moving in tandem with his thrusts and I’m slowing down when he doesn’t answer. “Fuuuck me.” He looks down at my smirk. “You’re serious.”

  Rising from my knees, I don’t have to answer for him to get the gist.

  “Jesus. Alright.” He bites his lip, taking a moment before he says, “A student. At ERA. But that’s all I know.”

  The fuck … “A student?” My brows furrow. “How do you know?”

  The look on his face tells me he’s about to burst but he keeps his voice smooth. “Found some more stuff in the office after you left.” With his hand on the top of my head, he pushes me down to my knees and I hate that I like it. Hate that I like being down here, right in front of the King’s staff. “Now, take my fucking load before I come all over that pretty face.” He’s weaker than I thought. I give him what he wants and he fucks my mouth until his words go hoarse.

  It’s not long before his cum fills my mouth and I almost choke at how much he pumps into me. But it seems he likes it because his cock throbs even more when I take it. He tastes sweet. Like a tangy fruit and it makes it easy to swallow while he’s still in my mouth. And boy, does that shit drive him over the edge.

  “Fuck, Jo,” he says, his voice breathless, palm on the wall. Water drips down his body like a Greek statue in the rain as he helps me up.

  When he does, I smile, stepping out of the shower and reaching for my towel. It’s hard but I get the words out, “You can leave.”

  He hesitates, an eyebrow cocked as if he’s trying to see if I’m bluffing.

  I’m not. “I mean it,” I can feel his eyes on my head as I wrap the towel around me and I hope he doesn’t hear the shakiness in my voice. This is harder than it seems but after what I heard, I’m on a mission. “You can go.”

  “Wait,” he laughs before his eyebrows lower. “You’re just gonna blow me and kick me out like a fucking whore?”

  I shrug, filling the cup on the sink with water and washing him out of my mouth. I watch as the water goes down the drain, his sweet, sweet taste with it.

  That tense voice is back and I don’t have to look at him to know his jaw’s clenched tight. “Are you fucking with me right now, Rowland?”

  I turn around, facing him. “Does it look like I’m fucking with you? I got what I want. I can figure the rest out on my own. I don’t need you anymore.”

  His eyes turn to slits and they bore into me like he’s trying to read words on the inside of my skull. “You don’t need me?” he scoffs.
>
  But I can’t even say the words again, and he knows it, the way he’s daring me to say it. “Go.” I turn around to face the mirror, avoiding his eye contact in the reflection.

  Still no answer.

  SMASH!

  Willow’s mirror shatters next to me, that square velvet case falling into the sink.

  “If I leave, you’re going to regret this,” he says. “I’m all you’ve got. You call me the coward but you won’t admit that I’m what you want. What you need.”

  “And my life is hell when I’m with you.” Heavenly hell.

  With my eyes on his face in the reflection, he turns around heading for the door. Looking over his shoulder, he meets my eyes again. “If you think your life is hell with me, wait until you see it without me.”

  “Is that another threat, Damien?”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be.” And with that, he finally leaves the room, a rolling chuckle going with him.

  * * *

  Cleaning up my mess is how I spend the last couple of days of my Christmas break.

  The mess in the Archibald mansion anyway.

  My foster parents will kill me if they come back to find this house in this state and Vincent will throw me under the bus instead of helping. I’m already on a super thin line, bailing on almost all their events. And now I don’t even have Damien to back me up. Still, I stand by my decision to kick him out.

  Cleaning up helps clear my head. With some old rock and roll on blast and zero interruptions, it helps me get into the zone while I figure out my next step. Tomorrow’s the first day back at school and I’m not about to hide.

  I can’t trust Damien. He can’t trust me. There can’t be anything between us but I can do this all without him. I can figure out which one of these rich assholes started that fire all on my own. There are only so many students at ERA and some options are obvious.

  My phone lights up again from across the room and I know it’s the devil himself. Damien hasn’t stopped calling since I kicked him out. I felt like shit when he left and I didn’t expect that. I’m supposed to be feeling great. Like a queen. I got the information I needed so why does it suck so bad?

  I decide to forgo the alcohol so I’m ready for classes the next morning. It’s time I give up the rockstar lifestyle and focus on my grades, the one last thing I have to help me get through this mess. But of course, by morning I’m as groggy as I would’ve been had I taken another bottle to my face. Sleep still doesn’t come.

  At least I’m up early and I’ll be on time for class. My marks are suffering with how distracted I’ve been but I still have one class I know I have in the bag. Art. Today’s the day we show our masterpieces to Clara and I know she’s excited to see what I’ve cooked up.

  When we pull up to the academy, my sister’s standing at the front with her friends and a smile spreads across my face. The first one I’ve had since Christmas Day with Damien.

  “Low!” I call to the back of her head when I’m out of the car, hoisting my backpack on my shoulders. She’s wearing a long plaid coat, matching headband and she fits in here way more than I do. Way more than I’d like.

  Willow turns around but she doesn’t seem as excited to see me as I am to see her. I jog up to her anyway, wrapping her in my arms with a tight squeeze. “God, I’ve missed you. Two weeks is too fucking long.” She smells like her. Coconut oil and … is that new perfume? It makes me choke but I play it off. Her hug isn’t as tight, squeezy, or comforting as usual, not the one I’ve craved but I’m happy she’s back in one piece. Letting her out of my hold, I meet her brown eyes, my gaze dropping to the shiny smartwatch on her wrist. “Is everything okay?” She looks back at her friends as she pulls me aside, her eyes narrowing. “Low? What happened?”

  Her friends all give me a snobby look but since they’re all vying to be part of the Supreme Squad I’m not surprised. It’s a habit at this point.

  “Why’d you lie to me?” she asks when we’re out of earshot.

  “What?” My eyes dart right back to her but it’s not for long. It’s like I sense him. Like I can feel him in the air and when I look up, Damien’s standing at the top of the steps like the King he is. His eyes on me.

  Like me, he’s wearing his leather jacket in the middle of winter. The only sign he’s as cold as his heart are his black gloves and his red nose but I can’t be sure that’s from the cold.

  “You said you were going to Cabo with Allie and Christian but Damien told me he spent all Christmas with you,” Willow says. No bullshitting. She looks back at him then down at her feet. “You didn’t have to lie. Don’t you trust me?”

  Shit. Of course, he told her and I know exactly why he did. He knows her face like this, all twisted with worry, her cheeks red, makes me want to die. I hate worrying my sister. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

  “Of course I trust you!” She’s the only one I can trust. Always has been and it’s no different now. Pulling my hood over my head, the cold wind blows right between my legs. “I don’t know why I lied. Maybe I was—”

  “Ashamed? Scared I’d tell Lea?”

  “No!”

  “Will! We’re going!” Someone calls from her little circle of Freshman barbies.

  Will? She hates when people call her that. The one time I did she huffed about it for a week.

  “I gotta go,” she says, her voice low.

  “Wait, are you mad?” Willow rarely gets mad at me.

  “No, I just don’t know what’s going on with you and it’s disappointing you didn’t tell me.” She gives me another small hug and turns to walk away, her friends pulling her into her circle.

  “See you later?” I call.

  “I’ll be at Bellas!” she calls back. “I’ll call you.” I keep a smile on my face until she turns around and when I look up, Damien still has his eyes on me. This time he’s not twirling that coin and I’m happy his aunt sold it.

  My shoulders drop as my sister goes out of view, heading towards the freshman building. Disappointing. God. I only thought that wrenched my guts when I heard it from my parents. It’s just as disheartening hearing it from her.

  “There she is!” Allie’s voice comes from behind me and when I turn around, I’m relieved to see Nate with her. Allie’s in a big puffy jacket and her usual knee-high boots while Nate looks like he got a fresh tan. Christian’s behind them in his black coat, duffel bag on his shoulder, but he looks a lot less chipper than his twin sister.

  Nate and Allie sandwich me between their arms and it makes me feel good, but Christian brushes by us without so much as a glance my way. The air’s cold but that cold shoulder is icy. “How was Christmas with the King?” Nate asks, leaning into me. “Twelve days of fuckmas?”

  Allie snorts, “He’s been dying to say that.”

  It’s like Christian hears it because I see his entire body go stiff, his pace quickening.

  “Uh, give me a second,” I say, pulling from their hold so I can catch up to Christian. I have an apology to make. I don’t care that Damien’s eyes are on us the whole time. This isn’t about him. “Christian,” I call but yeah, he’s pissed because he doesn’t answer. “Hey, wait up.”

  When he turns around his face is stoic. Like an Easter Island statue and he’s looking at me like he looks at the rest of the kids in this school. Like nothing. “What do you want?”

  “Well, I wanted to apologize,” I say, guttered that he can hardly look me in the eyes. But I’m being honest. Christian’s gone out of his way to have my back through this hard time and I left him high and dry on Christmas break. “I know you didn’t see that coming but neither did I and—”

  “If you wanted to spend all Christmas fucking King you should have just told me,” he says, his voice more tired and monotone as if this no longer fazes him. But with the way he’s gripping that stick, I’m sure it does.

  “Hey, we’ll be inside,” Allie whispers as she and Nate walk by, but I’m too focused on the pain in Christian’s eyes to answer.
>
  “I couldn’t leave him alone,” I explain. “You have Allie and your parents and he has—”

  “So you didn’t spend all holiday fucking King?” He cuts me off with a hard tone and it surprises me so much I take a step back. A group of girls walk by and look at us, shooting me glares of fury. That royal asshole side to Christian comes out again, the one he’s hidden away for some time. Seems I struck a nerve.

  Looking around I try to calm him down. “Christian, can we—”

  “You did, right?” His eyes narrow again and I’m not used to him being this pushy. The post-Christmas break crowd grows around us and this is way too public to talk about right now.

  “Fuck. No,” I whisper and it’s not a complete lie. We didn’t spend the entire break fucking, only half of it. In any case, this should be enough to take the heat off for a moment so I can get him to a quieter place. A warmer one. “Now, can we …” I pause as another group of students pass by, damn near looking into our mouths. I lower my voice, “Can we talk inside?” Christian scoffs, pushing his hand in his jacket to pull out his phone. He swipes at the screen and I’m not sure what he’s doing so I ask, “No?”

  He pushes the screen in my face and the world around me blurs, the chatter around us coming to a muffled murmur.

  “Harder!”

  Moans blare out of the speaker.

  My moans.

  Twenty-One

  I’m warmer now, my body and face filled with heat.

  “Wh—”

  The sounds from Christian’s phone are so loud it stops people in their tracks. It’s like he has it on top volume and my eyes double, reaching for the phone. He pulls it back, his mouth sealed shut.

  Fuck.

  “Say it, Jo. Say it!”

  My lips are stuck together, my throat closing in. Some students around us catch the video but he doesn’t care. He keeps his phone up, his jaw tightening the longer the noises come out of it.