Boarding School

I left David at the front door as I made a beeline for my laptop that had been set up on the work desk in a corner of the bedroom. I sat at the surprisingly comfortable desk chair and turned the machine on. Computers had always been a favorite hobby of mine (that is, other than sex) and it was no problem hacking into St. Cromson's files. I found the area containing confidential information on the students and sent it over to Mike, highlighting everything pertaining to Kiba Shinjo and the other students of the A-1 building—the majority of who were known associates of our target. I was cautious and methodical in getting in and getting out without a trace. It took all of twenty minutes and I spent another thirty or so just surfing the web.

It was soon after that that I heard the school bell ring. Looking to the glowing numbers of my digital clock gave me 5:30AM, the end of school. Which meant the other students of the door will be flooding in.

I stood up and stretched my back, spine cracking under the realignment. Then I headed into the bathroom for a quick shower, washing the delicious grime of sex and pain from my skin.

I had just turned off the water when a knock at the door caught my attention. I perked my ears up and focused on what was going on. I heard David open the door a fraction. "What." His voice was flat and hard, unwelcoming.

"I'd like to meet the new kid," the other voice came, confidence in the easy timbre of his tone.

I could practically feel David's offense. "For what reason."

"To welcome him to the school and to make friends, Chief," the boy said, a cocky smile evident in his voice.

Arrogant little bastard.

"One minute. Please." The "please" was said like an afterthought, like David was having a tough time remembering to be formal. A second later there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

"Yes?" I couldn't keep the annoyance entirely out of my voice.

"Mistress, there is a boy at the front door who wishes to meet you."

No doubt the boy was expecting to meet another male. I opened the bedroom door with nothing more than my towel wrapped around me. "Well, let's see what the little dip-shit has to say." I walked to the front door with the heated feel of David's eyes on my exposed legs, working their gaze up to my ass.

Opening the suite's door revealed the eighteen-year-old hottie white boy named Chris Landly, who I only recognized from my search through the school's records. Landly was one of the students on this floor and a close acquaintance to the target, Shinjo.

The moment I showed myself in nothing more than the scrap of terrycloth, his eyebrow raised and his eyes scanned all the skin that was naked. His full, kissable lips twisted into a wide, lust-filled grin and had a shiver working its way down my spine—I was anything but repulsed.

"What do you want," I asked, keeping the instant arousal out of my voice.

The tip of his tongue traced his upper lip. "Can I have three wishes?"

I rolled my eyes and turned around to walk back to my bedroom. Landly was right behind me. But before he could enter the room entirely, David had him by the shoulder.

"It's alright, David." I glanced back at him to show I was serious.

David nodded and released Landly, but I could see the reluctance in his body. He was a good bodyguard and any form of threat or even the potential of one, David was an eager beaver. Then again, it could just have been that David didn't like to have any other male privy to my body while he was on duty. There was a bit of a possessive streak in my living shield.

I let him follow me back to my bedroom, where I began to search for which clothes to change into. "So who are you and what do you want," I asked with my back still to him. Inside I was wondering on how many ways I could kill him with one hand.

"My name's Chris Landly." I sniggered silently to myself. I was glad my back was to him because he would have probably not understood my amusement to him stating something I already knew. "I was hoping to meet your boyfriend, but I guess I can settle for you."

I could feel him getting closer to me. I abandoned my dresser and turned to face Landly. "Sorry, but I do not have a boyfriend."

He leered at my body some more. "Your Master, then."

I raised a brow at him. "Master?"

"Isn't War your Master?"

"No."

"Your friend, then."

"No." Unless I was schizophrenic. But that can never be proven.

"So why are you in his room?" He took a step closer to me. "And naked?"

"That is none of your concern."

He was inches from me by now, his back to the foot of the bed. "Oh, really?" And before I could draw breath to reply, Landly had me by the arm and over his back, landing me on the bed. Then he was on top of me, his knees between mine. "I think I'll make it my concern." His breath was a cool rush against the shell of my ear, his body heavy atop my own. He had one hand like a vice around my wrists, shoving them above my head as his other hand gripped my thigh, snaking up under the towel.

I had to bite back my arousal to add some real conviction into my tone of voice. "You really should not mess with people you do not know." The only proof of my turn on was the thickening of my accent and the color of my irises turning to a soft, cloudy gray.

Landly traced a few butterfly-light kisses down my jawline. "Why do you say that?" Though his voice was a little off-hand, distracted.

The distraction I used to my advantage, flipping him over so I was on top. "Because you do not know what they are capable of." While I spoke, I ground myself onto his jean-clad erection. His hands fell to my thighs, moving up—under the towel—to rest on my hips. His fingertips flitted across my butt, brushing lightly and sending goosebumps up my spine.

He followed the shiver with a light in his eyes, a playful lust. "And what makes you think I'm not willing to find out?" Though his lips gave an amused twitch at the end, his grin showing his straight teeth and pearly-white fangs, his voice was thick and husky.

I leaned down to his ear, my dripping core tight against his cock behind his zipper, and whispered, "Are you sure you want to?" I ground tighter.

He swallowed hard, biting off a moan. "Oh, yeah."

I leaned down and licked him from collarbone to chin. "Last chance." His reply was another deep groan as his hips jacked up, pushing against me. My lips twitched with what I was going to do to him.

Leaning back onto my knees, I lifted myself up just enough to unsnap his jeans and work down his zipper. The erection that sprang forth was a little on the short side, but it was thick. And sometimes, thick is all that matters to women. As I took his cock into my hand and positioned the throbbing head at my entrance, his hand came up and pulled the towel open, exposing the rest of me to him. His hands took hold of my breasts, kneading and plumping, fingers occasionally tweaking my hard nipples. I dropped myself onto him and we both groaned. He may not be able to hit me as deep as Boss can, but he could stretch to burning.

I arched my back as I rode him, the feel of his hands on my breasts adding to the fire in my belly. My thighs began to burn with exertion, sweat trickling down my spine and between my breasts. My juices coated his cock; I could feel them slipping down and wetting my thighs where I bracketed his hips.

I rode him hard, heavy thrusts spearing me onto his cock with each downward stroke. And through it all, I eat at him, absorbing his energy, just like—if not as efficiently as—my father had done to me. Though I probably would have gotten a better meal if Landly was more rough with me. But his hands on my breasts were reverent, almost gentle.

Didn't matter. Because there was only one ending I was looking forward to.

I could feel his release coming, feel his cock tightening, thickening. I leaned down again, his hands moving from my breasts to around my hips, holding me as I rode him. I put my lips against his ear and asked one final time, "Now, are you sure you want to find me out?"

I drove my hips against him harder, building him up to where he would probably say yes to me asking if I could castrate him; he was so out of his mind with lust.

He nodded, I smirked. I leaned up again. "You asked for it." And just as his orgasm reached its onslaught, I drove my hand into his chest, right between his pecs. Landly hollered in surprise, but that didn't keep his release from coming. As he bled out from his chest, his seed spilled into me, coating my inner walls with his ambrosial white cream. I rode harder, even as his cock began to soften between post-orgasm fatigue and immense pain. I ate at his pain and his fatigue and his release—I sucked him down. And I got off on it. I came right there on top of him as he bled out from his chest wound.

When I was finished with him, I sent a psychic call out to David, somewhere between tapping a shoulder and ringing a bell; a sound you can't hear, a feeling you can't feel, but it could only be described with those senses.

The guard came into the room, his eyes alight at the sight of my naked body atop Landly's bloody one. I threw my leg over his hip and got off of him, the jarring movement making him cry out again. Poor baby. "David, get him out of here. I don't want my bed stained."

David was only too happy to oblige. He grabbed Landly none-too-gently by the collar of his shirt and hauled him off my bed. Then he "carefully" escorted Landly out of the room and to the front door. I followed behind them as David opened the door and tossed Landly out onto the hallway floor.

I took a step in front of David, centering myself in the doorway, watching with delight as Landly clutched his chest in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. I had made sure to avoid his heart so he wouldn't die, just feel like he was. I brought my bloody hand up to my lips and traced my red nails across my tongue, the click of my tongue ring another delight. The sound drew Landly's attention from his chest.

I looked down at him; his flaccid cock still exposed from his jeans, the hole in his chest a weeping wound, the white of his face a few shades more pallid with his loss of blood. I took in the sight, and I loved it.

"I told you, you shouldn't mess with people you do not know."

Two young males came in from the elevators; the twins—Jay and Victor Valdez—who also shared this floor. They were laughing at Landly's condition. The triumph was so invigorating, despite how petty it was, that I stuck two fingers in my mouth and sucked the blood off like a good lolly pop. With a laugh that probably sounded more like a seductive cackle, I stepped back into my room to the sound of the twins helping Landly up wile poking fun at him.

Well, that was an amusing few minutes.