Grimmstead Academy: Submission

by Candace Wondrak

  “Somehow, if I said no, I don’t think you’d believe me,” I said with a smirk, a heated feeling in my gut. How badly I wanted to climb on top of her and do what I’d said last night: taste her. Taste her, fuck her, feel her body giving in to mine. Fill her up with my seed and watch it dribble out of her.

  Oh, yeah. The things I would do to this woman.

  Shit. Had to stop thinking about those things, otherwise my slight hard-on would turn into a full-fledged erection.

  For my first time with Felice, I wanted it to be special. I had an idea too, and it was an idea I knew she’d love. I mean, what woman wouldn’t?

  “So that’s a yes,” Felice murmured, fixing her slip and covering up her exposed breast as she sat up. She ran her hands through her hair, its long brown tresses having gotten adorably messed up while she slept. “That’s not creepy at all.”

  “I’ll have you know, I could be a thousand times creepier,” I said, grinning. Although, after I said it, I realized it probably wasn’t the best thing to say. It was kind of creepy in and of itself.

  “Oh, trust me, I know,” Felice deadpanned. She leaned towards me, setting a soft kiss on my cheek—my fucking cheek—before crawling out of bed. I got a nice view of her ass in those lacy panties before she tugged the end of her slip down. “I should get back to my room.”

  Hell no. She wouldn’t run from me after giving me a kiss on the cheek. No way.

  I leaped out of bed, reaching her before she could open my door and walk out into the hall, pinning her against the wall. She blinked in shock as she tilted her head and stared up at me. I might have a small morning wood situation, but that wasn’t what this was about. Sex with her would come later. Right now, I wanted a real kiss.

  I’d given this woman an orgasm before I’d fucking kissed her. How in the world did that make sense? Hence the reason we had to rectify it right now.

  My lips curled into a grin, and I pressed my forehead against hers. Like a dog with a bone, I was so happy she’d found me last night. Truly, I didn’t want to let her go, but sometimes things had to be done in order for you to reap the rewards later.

  And there would be a reward: a beautiful, naked Felice, her legs spread and her bare, ample chest panting with desire.

  “Before you go,” I whispered, trailing off as I brought my mouth down upon hers. Her lips were soft and supple, giving into mine as I swallowed her up. She parted her lips, and I let my tongue slither inside, running it across hers and causing her to tremble in my arms. She tasted fantastic; I bet, below the waist, she’d taste just as good, if not better.

  I left her breathless after the long kiss was over, her amber eyes glazed with lust. I bet if lady boners were a thing, she’d have one right now. A big one.

  “You can go now,” I told her, starting to unbutton my shirt, “unless you want to stay and watch me change, in which case I won’t say no. After all, it’s only fair because I’ve seen you naked like a hundred times—”

  Her eyes blinked, and she huffed, annoyed. Felice said nothing as she slipped out of my room, probably storming away because I had the audacity to kiss her like that and then tell her that’s all she was going to get from me today.

  Hey, it was difficult pulling away from her, I’d give her that.

  I smiled to myself as I shed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I took a quick rinse in the tub, stopping in front of the mirror to brush my teeth. The last thing I wanted to do was glance in the reflective surface, because I knew what I’d see, but with my peripherals, I saw enough.

  It wasn’t a sickly me staring out from the mirror. It was just me.

  Me, with full, yellow hair. Me, with vividly bright blue eyes and smooth, white skin. Me with a dumb look on my face, because I didn’t understand why I was suddenly not seeing the other me.

  Felice. It had to be Felice.

  It actually made me feel better, seeing that version of me in the mirror, although that was unsurprising. Of course I’d feel better not seeing the ill me. Who wanted to come face to face with their worst nightmare every day? Who would want to look at a photograph of themselves and hate what they saw?

  It wasn’t just a nightmare for me, though. It was my reality. It was who I really was, underneath the fake, perfect skin I wore.

  This handsome man wasn’t me. It’s who I would be, if I wasn’t born defective.

  I didn’t want to think about that right now, so as I left the bathroom, I refused to think more on it. I got dressed in the clothes that were in my closet and dresser—the same boring outfit we wore every day. This whole academy thing was getting old. Couldn’t Grimmstead change itself into a disco or something? Anything to break up the old grind.

  Lucien wanted us to continue our days as we did before the Bram situation. While we met with Felice, he’d research in the library. I said more power to him; researching wasn’t my thing. Truthfully, I didn’t think he wanted to anger this place. To go against its wishes was…let’s just say unwise. Bad shit tended to happen when you turned your back on Grimmstead.

  Once I was clothed, my sleeves rolled up as they always were, I walked out of my room, stuck my hands in my pockets, and headed down the hall. I passed more than one empty room, and I didn’t mean they were devoid of furniture; Payne and Koda had no use for their rooms right now.

  The strange thing was, I wasn’t even hungry. Going downstairs and grabbing something on the dining table was the least of my concerns. My intent was Dagen…but when I turned to walk into his room, I found he was already gone.

  Hmm. Of course he was. He couldn’t make this easy, could he?

  If I was Dagen, where would I be? It was too early for his session with Felice, so he had to be around here somewhere.

  I took to walking the halls, trying to find him. The sun shone outside, a strange weather pattern, definitely. Before Felice, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the sun, let alone had an entire day with it shining down on the property. Ever since she arrived, we’d been getting better and better weather.

  Well, save for the day Bram took over the body and went on a killing spree. The weather had been an omen then, the ground shaking and the electricity going out. He’d killed Lucien and Payne, and truth be told, I didn’t know why Payne was still dead. It wasn’t like I’d lose sleep over it, but it did concern me a bit.

  What if Payne was really dead? Lucien was under the impression there was a way to save him, to bring him back since his body hadn’t disappeared, but the more time that passed, the less sure I was he was right.

  What if…what if Payne was simply dead? What if there was no coming back for him? Lucien came back because he was a Grimmstead, but Payne wasn’t. He was just a pale, pale man obsessed with blood. There was literally nothing special about him, unless you counted his ghostly white hair and his peculiar way of thinking.

  And then, if Payne really was dead, what did that mean for us? Was this place changing because of Felice? Were we all in danger of dying our true deaths? After being with her last night, after experiencing a calm, quiet night, I didn’t want that to be true.

  If we could die true deaths, did that mean my sickness would finally catch up to me? Was the picture that constantly appeared to me in random places simply an omen for my future? I didn’t want to think about that, but as I wandered the halls in search of Dagen, I couldn’t shut my mind off.

  It took me a while, but I found Dagen. He was on the third floor, in the farthest room in the west wing. He stood near Payne’s motionless body, one of his arms folded across his chest and the other leaning against it, rubbing his chin in thought. As if staring at his dead body would do something, cause an idea to pop into his head.

  I walked into the room, my hands still in my pockets, my posture quite relaxed, considering Payne’s corpse laid a few feet away, his stitched-up body naked and covered by a single sheet. At least the body didn’t smell, which was something. It was awfully cold in the room though, even though it was the third floor of this p
lace. I couldn’t help but wonder if the coldness of the room helped to keep his body so pristine.

  Well, as pristine as a body could be with thick black stitches all around its neck.

  While I was having my mental breakdown, Bram was off stabbing Lucien and sawing Payne’s head off. How much work it must’ve taken to actually cut through the spinal cord and completely sever the head. I, personally, doubted I’d ever be able to do something like that, but I supposed I might not be looking at things clearly.

  When a normal person was in a room with the cold, still corpse of someone they’d call a friend—or maybe just an acquaintance—they probably wouldn’t have the thoughts I was currently having.

  “Dagen,” I spoke, breaking the silence, causing the other living man in the room to jerk at the sudden sound. He backed himself up to the table with his movement, almost falling and knocking it over.

  Yeah. That wouldn’t have been good.

  “Imagine seeing you here,” I mused, grinning.

  Dagen let out a shaky sigh when he saw who it was. “It’s just you.”

  “Just me? I take offense to that,” I said, stepping closer to him, still smiling. “It’s never just me. To say that would be to imply that you were hoping for someone else, someone better—and that, I can assure you, would be a pointless endeavor, since it would never happen. There is no one better than me.”

  The only thing Dagen could do was blink, causing me to see the bags under his eyes. His black hair looked dull, his eyes the opposite of alert. Dark stubble lined his jaw, yet another morning this wonderful man had forgotten to shave.

  “Of course” was all he said, a boring, uninspired reply if I ever heard one.

  I moved beside him, staring down at Payne’s body. He really did look like a ghost. A ghost and not a person. His skin was too pale—obviously because he was dead, but even when that heart beat inside of him, he was pale. You could see the veins under his flesh, which I thought odd.

  It was almost like his body was primed and ready for his soul to return, for him to simply wake up and go about his day. The neck stitches would probably scar, but Payne was never one to care about his appearance too much.

  I mean, clearly. Look at him. His hair always had a weird thing going on, like a cow had licked his face and stuck parts of his white hair straight up. He never cared if he had bloodstains on his clothes, which should’ve said something about him. The guy was obsessed with blood, and as I stared down at him I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d died with terror running through his veins or if he’d been happy to see his own blood being spilled.

  He certainly didn’t seem like the Payne I’d known when he brought Felice to my room. He was…a changed man, right before his death, and I knew it had to be because of Felice.

  Did they fuck? The question rang in my head, even though truly it was none of my business.

  It’s just…her and Payne, didn’t really seem like a match that made sense, you know? Then again, I could say the same about her and Lucien, and with the way he looked at her, anyone in the room knew what was on his mind.

  Her. The answer was always her.

  “So,” I said, glancing at Dagen, “any ideas pop in that head of yours to miraculously bring back Payne?” The man stunned me with what he said next, for it was the last thing I’d been expecting.

  “I have an idea, but…I don’t know if she’ll go for it.”

  I blinked, utterly shocked. There was only one she he could be referring to, one beautiful female living under the same roof as all of us lowly men. Lucien had said Felice was connected to all of us, but I didn’t know what dots Dagen’s mind had connected to come up with an idea that involved her.

  She’d been up here before. She’d probably touched his hand or something, a loving gesture, so there was no way it was that simple.

  “And what, pray tell, is this idea?” I asked, needing to know.

  Dagen turned his stare toward Payne, frowning somewhat as he said, “Payne has always had a thing for blood. We all know this. What if…what if it’s his obsession that brings him back?” His dark eyes darted to me, and his head tilted to the side. He must’ve heard his current obsession: that noise, whatever it was, that ever-repeating sound that only affected him.

  “Blood,” I said, incredulous. “You think blood could bring him back?”

  He nodded once after shaking his head to try to rid himself of the sound. “Yes, but not only that, I think it has to be Felice’s blood. If she’s the key to this place, as Lucien said, she might be the only way to bring him back.”

  His logic, if you could call it logic and not something else, made sense, as long as you didn’t think about it too hard.

  “I’m sure if you told Felice your theory, she’d jump to help him,” I said, knowing it was true. She obviously cared for Payne, just like she cared for the rest of us. Bringing him back would take a weight off her shoulder.

  “I know,” Dagen replied. “I don’t want to tell her, however, until I’m sure. Until I know how to tell her, what to say—”

  He stopped mumbling when I set a hand on his shoulder. He was a bit shorter than me, which I rather liked. If you couldn’t tell, I liked feeling above everyone else. “You’re overthinking it, friend. All you have to do is tell her, explain to her why you think that. Felice won’t refuse you.”

  Dagen didn’t look like he particularly agreed with me, and yet he nodded all the same.

  I dropped my hand from his shoulder, sticking it back into my pocket. Now, onto the reason why I was here, why I sought Dagen out. “You know, it might surprise you, but I didn’t come here to talk about Payne and his currently dead state.”

  The other man stared at me, confusion spreading across his features.

  “I brought it up to you before, but now I think you’ll be more amenable to it,” I said, grinning. I knew dimples sat on my cheeks, and my smooth-talking voice was definitely turned on.

  As he realized what I referred to, Dagen’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Oh, I—I don’t think—”

  I took a step closer to him, now standing less than a foot away from him. A bit close, but if this worked, he and I would get a lot closer, along with Felice. “Come on, Dagen. I know you want to be with her as much as I do. Why not knock out two birds with one stone? Felice is clearly connected to us all…” I lowered my voice, now in a bare whisper, “Why fight it?”

  “Yes,” he said, agreeing on the latter part, at least. “But to…to do that together, I—it’s not my thing. It may be yours, but I…lovemaking should be between two people—”

  Oh, God. I wanted to burn my ears. “Lovemaking?” I chuckled, once more grabbing him—this time on his arm. Dagen wasn’t too muscled, but he wasn’t skinny as a rail, either. If he took care of himself, I didn’t doubt he could be a very handsome fellow.

  Not as handsome as me, but no one was as handsome as me.

  “Dagen,” I whispered his name, leaning closer, “lovemaking is so…sweet. No, what you and I would do to Felice wouldn’t be considered lovemaking on the scale of sex.” My fingers curled around his arm tighter. “We’d be fucking her.”

  The blush on Dagen’s cheeks grew even more. “That’s not…I don’t like that language.”

  “But you will, once you and I tag team her.”

  “I don’t—surely you can get her into bed on your own.”

  I smirked. “I could, very easily, in fact, but I think it would be much more fun with another addition.”

  Dagen grew quiet, lost in his thoughts. “I…I’ll think about it, okay? First, though, I’d like to discuss with everyone else my idea to bring Payne back.”

  I knew they said patience was a virtue, but right now it killed me. It literally killed me to tell him, “Fine, but the moment that pale one is up and walking around again, you’ll have no excuse to push it off.” Okay, maybe now wasn’t the best time to use literally in that context, since Payne laid, literally dead, a foot away.

  “You have a deal,�
�� Dagen said, glancing to the hand I still had on his arm.

  Right. I dropped my hand, stuck it in my pocket, and strolled out of the room. My mission was accomplished. It’d be one hell of a wait, but I knew it’d be worth it. Now…now it wasn’t just about getting Felice into bed. It was about making her feel loved, wanted, wild and free. It was about the feelings growing inside of me when I thought about her.

  I wasn’t a man to love, but for the first time ever, that word did pop up in my head.

  Lovemaking, though? No one said that word anymore, or I didn’t think so. Hard to be certain, due to the fact we were stuck inside this place while the world outside carried on. Either way, it didn’t matter. Dagen and I would not reach within ourselves and find the tender souls lying within.

  And if Dagen tried to be loving and tender? Well, maybe I’d let him, for a little bit, but then I’d do my best to snap him out of it, because the purpose of tag-teaming her was to drown her mind in so much pleasure she wasn’t able to think.

  To see her naked body, flushed and covered in sweat, to hear her moans and watch her writhe and squirm…

  Shit. I needed to head back to my room, do a little relieving of myself.

  And I didn’t mean piss.

  Chapter Eleven – Felice

  I didn’t know why we had to go on with the sessions when everything was thrown off. Without Payne and Koda—or Bram—there were two fewer men to tutor. Two fewer heads at the dinner table.

  I missed them. I really did. Payne and Koda.

  Bram…was frightening. My heart skipped a beat anytime I thought about him, when I thought about how close he’d come to killing me, to ending my life for good. He would’ve killed everyone in Grimmstead if given the chance; there was no rehabilitating someone like that.

  Did that stop me from wanting to? No. Unfortunately, the answer to that was no. A part of me wanted to go to the basement, where I knew he was, and try to help him. Try to make him see what a monster he was. Maybe I could make him better.

  Or maybe it’d be a wasted effort and he’d try to kill me again.