Page 14 of Prince of Malice

Ilean against the frame of my dorm window, just barely sitting on the sill and feeling the cool breeze of the nighttime air on my face. The night is still and quiet, but still, I can’t quite seem to fall asleep. I don’t know why, but every time I close my eyes, I am overrun with conflicting thoughts.

The Valentis taking over my family and using my mother. Luca making me look like an idiot in front of the families. My own mom ignoring my concerns. Running into Luca at the party and finding out he goes to college here.

I feel like I can’t leave my room or else I’ll run into him.

But what am I supposed to do? Just stay in here until I eventually fail out of college and then hide away at home too? That’s pathetic.

I sink into my own mind to try and escape from it all, to get away from how weak and stupid he made me look in front of everyone. I think about an alternative ending to the Rossi-Valenti wedding, crafting the perfect what-if conclusion for what could have happened if I hadn't been grabbed and pulled off Luca that night.

Getting to be all alone with him, maybe in some storage room after he was sent off to grab something or even trapping him in the bathroom. Watching him squirm in front of me, as he knows there is no way out for him and that he is not strong enough to stop me from doing whatever I want to him.

Grabbing hold of him by his stupidly expensive suit jacket, throwing him back against the nearest wall, and pinning him down. Watching fear take over his eyes and his entire body trembling under my fingers.

Even just thinking about it makes me grin with excitement.

Then when I have him completely under my control, after he stops struggling to escape and just lets it all happen to him, I throw him down to the floor and pounce on top of him. Like how I wanted to at the reception, but this time, he wouldn’t have his dad to step in for him or his uncles to drag me away.

On top of him, I would just start beating him and tearing him apart. Bruising his perfect face, ripping his pristine outfit to pieces, and exposing his scrawny body underneath. His tight, bare body just beneath my fingertips. Feeling the slight bumps and crevices in his skin, the heat radiating from him and inviting my hands to feel more.

And only when he begs for my cock do I give it to him, hard and fast. Tearing him apart.

My train of thought gets away from me, ending up in a place I hadn’t been expecting.What the hell was that? Where did that come from?

I feel my face turning red as a crimsonblush overtakes my skin and the cool air outside extinguishes the heat that comes along with it.

No, I can’t think about…that any longer. I need something else. Something to distract me for now.

The echoing laughs of a small flock of students call to me through my window as they walk on by.

Carefully, I edge myself out of the window and get a better look at them. The group of men are all wearing black tuxedos and head away from the campus.

“Could be fun…,” I mutter to myself.

Jumping up, I grab my jacket off the back of my door and duck out.

I stuff my hands into my pockets, lowering my face as I follow the group of suited-up men from a safe distance. Leaving the threshold of the academic grounds, they make a turn down the next street.

“Greek row?” I ask myself in a hushed tone.

They continue down the street and stopjust before one of the houses that I instantly recognize as the Delta Zeta’s house. The men all reach into their inner jacket pockets and retrieve small envelopes, handing them to a significantly large man standing at the front door of the house.

Knowing I’m not wanted, I peer around the entire house. I’ve been here before, but they never took their security this seriously. The raucous noise of the party blasts through the walls of the house, telling me that I need to go inside.

I scan the surroundings for any possible way inside; the front door is stationed with a bouncer, and the side porch is packed with partygoers who would definitely notice me walk past.

I retreat down the block and skirt my way around the next house, keeping my profile low so that no one at the party can see me sneak past. Manicured bushes line the back row of the houses, almost completely blocking off any sightline to the back windows, except for one small break in the shrubbery. Crouching low and holding apart the mass of leaves, I am just able to push myway through the thicket and collapse into the house’s backyard.

The rear patio is small and holds no space for people to socialize, so the party stays away from there. Instead, the hosts are using it to store small party supplies, random assortments of extra decorations, red solo cups, and, most importantly, the kegs.

I run my hands through my hair to freshen it up from my trip through the hedge, brushing away a collection of leaves that cling to my jacket, and finally rolling up my sleeves.

Awkwardly crashing through, I make my way through the back door. Lugging one of the kegs from the backyard over my shoulder, I use it to hide my face from the crowd of people who gawk at me as I enter.

“Hey, where did you guys want this again?” I ask the group, hoping at least one of them will excuse my presence with an answer.

“Just throw it down somewhere over there,” one responds, relieving me from any further scrutiny.

Making my way through the crowd, they all split apart like the Red Sea to allow methrough. All of them are enraptured by the sight of a keg lofted over their heads, a mesmerizing image for partying students.

---