The Princess and the Bully (Goldsworthy University Book 1)

by Tiffany Ransier

  I grab her thighs and yank her forward to the edge of the table.

  I bend my head down to the juncture of her thighs and thrust my face in, breathing her in. Fuck. Her scent is intoxicating. Like a fucking drug to my brain.

  And I need more.

  She gasps as my tongue parts her folds. Her legs twitch in the grip of my arms and she lets out a sharp moan. Completely unmuffled.

  “You’re so vocal, and here I thought you’d be quiet knowing people are walking through the door only a few feet away and going to their classes.”

  Her hand flies to her mouth as I move my tongue insistently over her clit. Her soft whimpers make my cock so hard, I’m sure it’s purple now.

  I remove one hand from under her thigh and thrust my fingers back into her pussy. Two at first, and then three, all the while sucking on her clit.

  “It’s so much,” she gasps. “It feels…” She stares down at me with heated eyes.

  With a smirk, I move back slightly, easing my fingers out of her.

  “W-wait, what are you doing?”

  “I’m stopping, princess. Unless…”

  “Unless what?" she asks, biting her lip.

  “Unless you tell me, it feels good.”

  She opens her mouth, and closes it, glancing away.

  “Five seconds, princess.” I squeeze two fingers around her clit and she jumps.

  Her head tilts back. “It feels…good.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Can you repeat that, one more time?”

  Her heated eyes find mine. “Please…keep going.” Her pink face turns away once more.

  Fucking hell. My cock wants to be inside her now, but I oblige, thrusting three fingers back inside her. Her hips start grinding with every thrust and I switch between licking and sucking her clit, until I feel her body shudder. Her body jolts and her pussy tightens around me so hard, I think my fingers are going to fall off.

  Panting, she goes still on the table, still looking anywhere but at me.

  “You act like this was your first time finishing, princess. My brother couldn’t make you come?”

  She doesn’t respond, her hand swiping the sweat off her forehead. I lick my fingers clean, but I’m far from satisfied.

  Last time, I was deprived of this. This time I won’t be.

  I stand up, moving her thighs together and place her feet on my left shoulder.

  She blinks up at me with exhausted eyes, hair splayed all over the place on the table. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting off, princess.”

  Her eyes widen. “No!”

  So selfish. But it’s too damn bad she doesn’t have a choice.

  I yank my pants and underwear down and groan at the feeling of my cock being free.

  Her eyes widen with fear as I stare down at her. “Don’t.”

  Grasping her ankles tightly in the crook of my left arm, I nudge my cock forward, rubbing right over her entrance. She gasps and tries to move her legs, the outcome being her opening teasing the head of my cock. “Wil. Stop fucking moving.”

  She stills as her eyes grow watery. “If you fuck me, Callan, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I’ll accept all your hatred, princess.” I tilt my hips up and drive forward, earning a shocked gasp as I push my cock between her thighs. “Just not today.”

  Her eyes flood with relief, but not for long as I pull back and thrust forward. She bites her lip and closes her eyes. With every slide of my cock between her legs, my cock is teasing her clit.

  Fuck. The wetness between her thighs and the tightness of her thighs are the perfect combination to make it almost feel like I’m inside her.

  One moan after another escape her mouth as she muffles them with her hand.

  Grunting, I pick up the pace, sweat beading on my forehead as I grit my teeth. At that moment, she does something so unexpected, my breath ceases in my throat. Her eyes open, locking with mine. Something moves through them, something I haven’t seen before. I can’t figure it out before they flit down. Her free hand reaches down and the tips of her fingers touch the head of my cock.

  Shit. I almost came.

  “Don’t touch,” I growl. But as I pull back and thrust forward, her fingers are still there, waiting for my cock. The touch of those small fingers are my undoing as spurt after spurt of cum hit her stomach. She yanks her hand away and I pause. “I told you not to touch.”

  “I was cu–. Look. Are we done now? Can you get a paper towel from that sink over there?” she asks, pointing across the room.

  I move my cock out from her tight embrace and let them go. “I think you should clean up the mess you made. Why waste a paper towel?”

  She raises an eyebrow as I move my fingers through the pool of cum. As I move my fingers up, she shakes her head, but I dip my fingers past her lips and smear my cum there.

  “You aren’t leaving this room until you get all of it in that mouth of yours.” I glance to my left at the clock. “Looks like you have seven minutes until class starts. You better hurry.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she grumbles as she moves her fingers into the cum and drags them up to her mouth. This time, my cum will make it past her teeth. I watch her fingers go inside her mouth and feel my cock hardening all over again. I pull my underwear and pants back up, buttoning them quickly.

  She doesn’t look me in the eye, and her face stays neutral as she reaches down and gets every bit of cum off her stomach and into her mouth. She opens her mouth wide open, fixing me with her pink tongue. “See, all gone. Now let me go.”

  “Fine. But first, your punishment.”

  Her eyebrows draw together and she laughs. “Wait. What? That wasn’t my punishment?”

  “No.” I walk over to my bag and pull out my special gift. I’ve been wondering when to use this. Now seems like the perfect fucking time. I hide it behind my back and grab her arm with my other hand, tugging her off the table.

  “Put your underwear on.” She stares at me warily, tugging them back up her hips. I move my hand from behind my back, and pull the part of her underwear between her thighs down slightly with my pinky finger and insert my device inside her panties, positioning it right against her clit.It’s nestled perfectly so the only way it will come out is if she pulls it out.

  She shrieks. “What the fuck is that?”

  I stride over to my backpack and pick the remote out. Pressing the red button once earns a small sound from her, and I press the black button to stop it. “You’re going to wear the vibrator through your whole class. I’ll be pressing it off and on and watching through the windows to make sure you don’t take it out.” I glance at the clock. “And it looks like class is starting…now. Don’t think you want to be late.”

  “Ugh, I hate you,” she mutters, pulling her pants up and grabbing her bag and leaving. Grabbing mine, I follow her back the way we came to her door. She walks inside and I glance in to see her sit at a lab table, similar to the one she was just laying on. Some girl next to her turns her nose up at her and scoots her body further away.

  After five minutes go by, I press the button. Wil jumps slightly on the stool, straightening her back. I don’t press the black button for two minutes. The moment I do, she relaxes on the stool, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

  I let fifteen minutes go by the second time, pressing the red button three times to medium vibrations. I watch that hand fly to her mouth. Mm, I wonder if anyone can hear her moaning.

  Reluctantly, I switch it off. Back and forth, I do it, occasionally being stopped by others passing by who stop to talk to me. When her class is nearing its end, I press the red button five times, putting it into high vibrations. Her fingers lock around her arms, tightening to the point that they turn red. Her head goes down to the paper on her desk and she visibly shudders on the stool.

  After a few minutes, I shut it off for the last time. She’s probably soaking wet right now. I palm the remote in my hand and think about how good she tasted on my tongu
e.

  Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Heath is out there somewhere, dead or alive, and she’s the only lead I have. I need to keep trying to get answers.

  Suddenly, every person starts putting their work away in their bags. Class must be over. It felt like no time at all, standing here for two and a half hours.

  I shift my weight from one foot to another before making the decision to leave. I was going to get the vibrator back, but that might cause something else entirely. As I walk down the hall and leave the building, I feel my dick finally start to calm down.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mera

  All weekend, he avoided me. Not that I mind it. Our sorority did charity work downtown and so did his fraternity. Every time we crossed paths, he wouldn’t even scowl at me or ask me if I remember anything from that night.

  He was surprisingly helpful and I almost thought for a second that he was someone else completely as he talked to the homeless.

  I still don’t understand why he did what he did last Thursday. And, I threw that stupid vibrator away. I could feel his gaze on my back my whole bio class, yet when I left the class he was nowhere to be found, so of course I went to the bathroom right away and threw it out.

  If he wants me to replace it, I’ll just give him the money for a new one, not that he’d really need it.

  “Got your outline done?” Peyton asks.

  “Yeah, I stayed up until two getting it done.” I rub the sleep out of my eyes and yawn, walking inside history class.

  We sit in our respective chairs and I lean against the wall and look back at them.

  “Tsk tsk, Mera. You procrastinate too much,” Scar says, wagging her finger at me.

  “It’s a bad habit,” I groan. “Plus I’ve been so stressed lately. That petition only needs 405 more signatures. There’s no chance of it making 5k right?”

  Peyton and Scar look at each other and back at me.

  “No way,” they say at the same time.

  “Thanks for being optimistic.” But I know if the same amount of people sign it this week and next week as they have been the past few weeks, I’ll be at 5k by the end of the month. And then the board will have to make a decision.

  But I’m not a danger to anyone and I don’t deserve to be expelled.

  I’m innocent. I have to be.

  But those fucking notes aren’t helping. I’ve been getting them daily since Halloween night. The day after I got “Next time, no one will be around to save you.”

  I think they know I’m close to bringing them to the police because of the one I got yesterday.

  Show the police these and your roommate gets it.

  So many people go in and out of the sorority, I’m nowhere close to figuring out who it is. Everything has just been…hopeless. The only thing I can do is keep trudging along. Everything else may be shit but I have the best grades here than I’ve ever had.

  “Class will now begin,” Professor Harper says. “Please pass your outlines up front.”

  I bend down and pick it out of the folder in my bag and place it on my desk.

  If I was smart, I’d get the 10 page paper out of the way this weekend. But that’s probably not going to happen.

  Turning back to Peyton and Scar’s table, I take their two outlines and stack them on-top of mine and pass them to the guy sitting in front of me.

  As long as I can get as good of a grade on this as my bibliography, there’s a chance I might still score an A. With a minus attached, of course. I don’t know anyone who’s just getting a regular A on this.

  The creaking of the door opening draws mine and everyone else’s attention. Callan strides in, completely unbothered by the stares as he sits down in the empty chair next to me.

  I pull my chair in closer to the table, facing forward and dig inside my bag for a pencil and notebook.

  “Mr. Goldsworthy, do you have a good reason for arriving late?” Professor Harper booms.

  The rest of the class is so quiet, the only thing you can hear is her brown sandals as she walks down the carpeted path to him.

  “The printer was tweaking.”

  “So am I correct in assuming you don’t have the outline worth 10% of this assignment?” she asks, stopping at our table.

  She narrows her eyes at Callan, but Callan doesn’t flinch. “That’s correct.”

  “There are no second chances, Mr. Goldsworthy. You’ve already forfeited your 10% for your sources. The highest possible grade you can get on this assignment is 80%. You understand that if you don’t turn in the paper before Thanksgiving break, you will not pass this class?”

  “Yes,” he answers cooly.

  She stares down at him for a minute longer, the tension in the room rising at the silence. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she clears her throat loudly. “Let’s not waste any more class time.” She whirls around and walks back to the front of the room. “We’re starting chapter 21 today.”

  “Old bat. Any other teacher would’ve let me turn it in tomorrow. Stayed up all fucking night for nothing,” he mutters angrily, digging in his bag and throwing a notebook on the table.

  So he didn’t lie. Amazing.

  I scribble the date at the corner of my paper.

  “Do you have a pencil?”

  I hear him, but why should I give him what he needs? After all the trouble he’s caused me. All of the threats and forcing me to…

  God. I need to keep my mind on U.S. History.

  Professor Harper brings up a projection of the Bill of Rights and I rush to write them down before it’s gone. She never leaves enough time to copy all of anything in my nice handwriting, so my notes are always scribbles.

  A rough hand touches my arm and I jump.

  Turning my head slightly to the left, I find Callan’s eyes fixed on me. “A pencil.”

  “Are you talking to me?” I whisper, touching my chest. I glance around the room. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people who have pencils. Maybe ask Scar behind me.”

  “Just give me a pencil,” he whispers angrily. “I need to pass this class so I can stay on the basketball team.”

  “And I need to get an A in this class, so shush,” I whisper back and continue scribbling madly.

  He leans down to my ear. “Give me a pencil, or I'll touch you right now.”

  My cheeks heat up and I glare at him. “You wouldn’t.”

  He grunts. “Fine, have it your way. Let’s make the class smell like you, princess.”

  I feel a tug through my belt loop as I get pulled closer to him.

  My heart beats faster as I realize if either of the two guys turns around they’ll see, but even more embarrassing, Peyton and Scar will see his hand doing something.

  “Wait, wait. I’ll get the pencil.”

  I twist down to look inside my bag and spy another mechanical pencil and put it directly on his notebook. “There.”

  He smirks and leans to my ear. “That’s great. But you’re too late.”

  Grabbing the pencil with one hand he takes it far out of my grasp and with his right, puts his hand inside my panties. “Spread your legs, princess.”

  I shake my head quickly.

  His cold eyes meet mine, growing darker by the second. His warm hand goes to one leg, pushing it as far right as possible, and the other as far left. My thighs are nowhere near as strong as that one hand of his.

  His eyes lock with mine and my breath stills in my chest as I feel his hand go into my underwear and touch my clit.

  I throw a hand over my mouth as his finger circles it. God, I hate how good this feels.

  He dips his finger down lower and his eyes widen slightly. “You’re already wet, princess?”

  Fuck. I clench my jaw together and look away. “Look at me,” he whispers.

  I ignore him only to feel him pinch my clit. “Mm,” escapes my mouth. Just loud enough to get Professor Harper’s attention.

  “Do you have a question Ms. Karden?”

 
“No, ma’am,” I say as I feel a finger slip inside me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him staring toward the front with a neutral expression.

  She nods and continues prattling on about the Bill of Rights.

  “Look. At. Me.”

  I slide my eyes toward him to find him looking down at me with a heated stare. His finger slowly slides back and out. The sudden emptiness causes me to gasp softly. Luckily my hand over my mouth is enough to muffle it.

  He brings his finger to his mouth, moving it inside and then taking it out. A heated shiver goes through me and I focus back on my paper. Why does he always do that? Acting as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.

  Next to me, I hear the sound of pencil against paper. I should be focused on mine, but now I’m hyper aware of him. His slow breathing, the smell of his soap, his arm only inches away from mine.

  No. I need to stop. History. I am in history class.

  I can’t and shouldn’t get used to this.

  I slide my chair back to its usual spot and continue writing down notes.

  I get to Art a minute before class starts. There’s never any use in coming early. I settle down in the seat next to his and look up to the board for the next project. It’s already been a day explaining to Scar and Peyton exactly what Callan was doing. Though it was obvious by their faces that they didn’t believe a single word out of my mouth.

  ‘Why else would he suck his finger like that?’ Scar kept asking.

  Sooo fucking embarrassing.

  I was so sure he’d ditch again, but he’s here even before I am.

  “Okay class, your next project is on the board. You know the drill,” Professor Schmidt announces. “Please read the board first before asking any questions. Last week’s project is due today. Give it to me now if you haven’t already. I’ll pass back the ones to the people who did theirs early.”

  A drawing of a neighborhood in two point perspective. Ugh. I hated one point so much. This is going to suck. My eyes glaze over as I stare at the board until I hear a throat clear. “Mera.”