Page 236 of Depraved Boys

His lips crashed onto mine with a dizzying kiss that matched his longer, deeper thrusts. Waves of ecstasy crashed against the walls of my core, making me cry out, but he swallowed the sounds with his kisses.

His back and forth movements quickened, making the bed creak and my breasts jiggle. My muscles clamped around him, and harsh cries ripped from my throat. It was like being pumped full of pleasure, and it had nowhere to go and kept building in pressure until it became unbearable.

His harsh, ragged breaths filled my ears, and he whispered, “You’re so wonderfully tight. A perfect fit. I love you, Willow.”

It took a moment for the words to filter through the haze of ecstasy, but when they did, it was like something snapped, and a bone-deep shudder seized my body. A sob ripped from my throat as wave after wave of sensation took control of my senses and had me jerking and spasming underneath his strong, powerful body.

Prakash continued those delicious thrusts, drawing out the sensations until he let out a low, sensual moan and collapsed on top of me.

We remained tangled together, our hearts hammering to the same beat, both breathing hard and catching our breaths. His last words echoed in my ears, but I shoved them to the back of my mind. Anyone could say anything in the throes of passion.

The next morning, someone knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Prakash groaned from on top of me.

“It’s Bianca,” said Leopold. “Someone’s pushed her out of a window, and she’s lying on the ground at the foot of the east wing!”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Prakash and I froze, gazes locked in shock for a moment before the message finally sank in. He blinked, scrambled off from on top of me, and picked up the clothes we had strewn on the floor.

Scratching my temple, I pulled myself up and eased off the bed. This didn’t sound right at all. There were only windows on the academy’s higher levels, which meant that someone would have had to lift Bianca off her feet and push her out of the window.

Or she could have climbed out herself.

I swung my legs off the bed, watching Prakash dress. He turned around and stared at me, brows furrowed. “Are you coming?”

“Yes.” I stood, stepped into the center of my skirt puddle, and pulled it up my hips. “Are there any floor-to-ceiling windows on this floor or on the one above?”

Prakash smoothed down the front of his rumpled shirt and frowned. “None that I know off.”

I put on my bra, picked up my shirt, and he helped me fasten the buttons.

Leopold banged on the door. “Are you coming?”

“Where’s Seb?” I asked.

“He hasn’t returned from his run,” replied Leopold.

Prakash and I put on our blazers, which hid our less-than-pristine shirts. He unlocked the door, and we stepped out into a busy hallway of boys rushing out of the doors, presumably to catch a glimpse of Bianca’s strewn form. Leopold gave us a sharp nod and rushed toward the nearest stairwell. Prakash and I ran after him.

“Has anyone called an ambulance?” I asked as we ran down the wooden staircase.

“One of the third years did,” said Leopold from a flight below.

I ran past Barrett, who scowled and muttered something under his breath, but I continued running down the stairs. Scenarios whizzed through my mind, all of them involving an enraged Mr. Byrd pushing his daughter off the tower to punish her for misplacing his twenty-five thousand pounds.

As I reached the bottom, Leopold held open the exit. Shouts and excited screeches carried in the wind—turning my blood to sludge—and the scent of blossoms wafted into the stairwell.

This part of the building backed into a frost-covered lawn, where the knights had initially pigged Ashley. For the briefest of moments, I wondered if Barrett had regretted his actions on that night. Prakash rushed out of the exit, and I shook off those thoughts and followed after him.

We stepped out into a gravel path about eighteen feet in width, which ran alongside the building’s perimeter, separating it from the gardens. On the far left, about a hundred students filled the pathway. They spilled out into the lawn close to the corner of the building.

I jogged toward them with Leopold on my left and Prakash on my side and muttered, “They’ve turned it into a freak show.”

“This lot wasn’t here when I found her,” said Leopold.

I was about to ask how he had found her body, when a first-year boy ran out of the crowd, screaming about zombies. A lot of younger students fled around the building, leaving plenty of room to see the spectacle.