Playboy Princes: A Dark College Romance(2)

Alex’s and Claudette’s voices still echoed through my head, and as badly as I wanted to offload all of that onto someone else, Rafe wasn’t that person. He’d just make fun of my naiveté for trusting Alex, and I was getting enough of that from myself.

“None of your business,” I snapped back, looking around me for the first time. “Where the hell did you bring me anyway?” We were in some kind of studio apartment, complete with a sitting area, kitchenette, three double beds, and an attached bathroom. I could just see the edge of the vanity through the open door. “Are we underground?” There were no windows, and the air had that slightly stale quality to it that suggested poor ventilation.

Rafe arched a brow, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his broad back against the door. What, did he think I was going to barge back there while Swiss Guards were hunting? Fuck that, I wasn’t an idiot.

“Yes,” he replied with a small incline of his head. “We’re safe here until the tunnels back to the academy are cleared.”

Okay… so we weren’t under the academy anymore. Interesting.

“And where is here?”

He gave a small shrug. “Just a safe location.” There was something cagey about the way he said that… and the three beds were tripping up the train of logic in my head.

“Is this where you guys bring girls for orgies?” My exclamation was just this side of shrill. But ew. So much ew. The idea of Rafe, Jordan, and Nolan having chicks down here was all kinds of… hot. Ugh, I mean... Fuck. “I can’t believe you brought me to your fuck pad.” I muttered it with disgust, and my skin crawled as I eyed the beds.

I told myself it was disgust, not arousal, but I was also a big old liar.

Rafe’s face may as well have been carved out of stone for all the emotion he showed. Damn him.

“You should clean up,” he suggested, nodding in the direction of the bathroom. “We could be here a while and it’d probably be best if no one saw you wandering around looking like that when we get the all clear.” He flickered his gaze down my purple catsuit, and I could swear there was heat in his stare that spoke of something a whole lot more than annoyance.

The contempt in his voice, though… it was like fanning a fire. All my previous fury bubbled back up inside me, and I wanted nothing more than to bring him to his knees. Figuratively and literally.

“You’re right,” I agreed, my terrible plan unfolding in my head like a poisoned flower. “I should get rid of the evidence.” Reaching up to my throat, I grasped the little zipper between my fingers and slid it all the way down to my navel. I had decent tits on the worst of days but there was something particularly awesome that an unzipped catsuit does for a girl’s, er, girls.

“What are you doing?” Rafe asked. His voice was neutral but his gaze was locked on my black lace bra.

Hah. Too easy.

“Taking my clothes off. Is that a problem for you?” I threaded enough blatant challenge into my words that it was flipping a switch in his brain. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his next breath was just that fraction quicker than the one before. I had him, hook, line, and sinker.

Rafe couldn’t back down from a challenge any more than I could. We were both damaged like that.

Letting a smug grin play across my lips—he wasn’t looking at my face anyway—I shrugged my catsuit off my shoulders and started peeling it down my legs. Underneath, I wore nothing but a black lace bra and thong—because catsuits were awful for panty lines—and I definitely heard Rafe’s breath catch when I bent over to unzip my boots and pull the whole lot off.

“Careful, Cinderella,” he growled, his voice dark and full of threat. “You’re playing one hell of a dangerous game. What would your boyfriend say?”

The word boyfriend was like a bucket of ice over my libido.

I straightened back up and scoffed. “I doubt he’d say much, seeing as he’s probably balls deep in your fiancée right now.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Rafe’s face, and he pulled his gaze away from my tits to stare at me in that intense way that sent shivers through me.

“So, you want to fuck his worst enemy to get back at him, huh?” He didn’t sound all that put out by the idea. Just curious. “You think that’ll make you feel better?”

I snorted a bitter laugh. “I think an orgasm from anyone who isn’t a two-faced backstabbing piece of shit would make me feel fucking amazing right now. If you’re not man enough to provide that, I can take care of it myself in the shower.” I shrugged and started toward the attached bathroom. “Or maybe Jordan can lend me a hand when he inevitably shows up here.”





Chapter 2





I’d made it all of five steps across the room before I was basically thrown onto the nearest bed.

A small squeak of fright slipped from my throat, but it quickly turned into a gasp as Rafe’s body pinned me down. He held both my wrists easily in one hand, restraining them against the comforter above my head, and I groaned at the bite of my many small injuries. My right arm was aching, and the smear of bright red on Rafe’s bicep told me I might be actively bleeding.

Fuck it. Not the first time I’d been cut in a match before, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Don’t fucking push me, Vi,” the Swiss prince warned me. Or threatened me? I hoped it was a threat he intended to follow through on.

Doing the exact opposite of what he’d said, I pushed. In fact, I laughed. “You scared, Angel?”

That was the best I could taunt him with because it was all too evident he was up for it. Up, hard, and holy crap… massive. I shifted under him, spreading my legs wide enough to wrap around his waist, then pulling him tighter against my core.

Rafe made a small noise but simply hovered over me a moment, his deep blue eyes unreadable as he peered into mine.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered so quietly it could have been to himself, then crashed his lips into mine with all the intensity of a firestorm.

For the briefest moment, I let it happen. This… this was the sort of kiss I’d read about in fairytales. The sort of kiss that sent heat searing through my whole body and made my toes curl, fingernails claw, and panties melt. This was the sort of kiss I’d thought Alex—

Fucking Alex.

Wrenching my lips from Rafe’s, I gave him my neck.

“We’re not making love, asshole. Take your pants off and fuck me, or I’ll find someone else who will.”

My face was to the side, but I still caught the flicker of anger that crossed his gorgeous face. What he had to be upset about, I had no idea. Wasn’t this exactly what guys like him wanted? No strings, no emotional attachment, just fucking?

“Fine,” he snapped, peeling my legs off from around him and moving to stand up.

My heart sank, and I thought for a moment he was actually leaving. But when he reached over his shoulder and whipped his top off in a smooth, very practiced move, I let out a small sigh of relief.

Holy ever-loving shit, a body like that should be illegal.

Rafe barely allowed me a moment to ogle his hot, tatted body before grabbing me by the ankles and flipping me over in a move that screamed of fight training. My bruised muscles protested the sudden movement, but I just groaned with anticipation.

“Is this what you want, Cinderella?” Rafe’s voice was deep and husky. Dirty. I was damn near gushing already. The distinctive rustle of fabric and slide of a zipper teased me, and I cursed him for denying me a look at his goods. “A quick, faceless hate fuck to wipe that Australasian prick from your mind?” His hands were on my ass, burning hot as he stroked over my flesh and teased at the flimsy lace of my thong.

“Yes,” I replied in a breathy moan, hitching my knees up underneath me and leaving zero doubts as to what I wanted from him.

His low chuckle sent shivers chasing down my spine, and I couldn’t help myself, I wiggled my behind in desperation. Not that he needed the encouragement. As he leaned closer, stroking a hand up my back to tangle in my messy, bloody braid, I could feel the heat and hardness of his own arousal against my ass.

“You think you can wash away the memory of his touch that easily? You think if I fuck you hard enough you’ll forget that you let a two-faced, murderous bastard defile your body?” His lips brushed my ear as he fucking growled those words at me. His voice was heavily threaded with anger, frustration, and hate. But it was also drenched in desire.

Unable to help myself, I turned my head a fraction. His grip on my hair was so tight I couldn’t manage to look back at him fully, but I pushed it enough that my scalp screamed protests and he could catch the arrogant smirk on my mouth. “Only if you do it right, Angel baby.”

The noise he made was barely even human. He’d snapped, and I was solely responsible.

Damn that felt good.

Rafe wasted no time with foreplay. Our whole snarky, combative exchange had been the best kind of foreplay for both of us, really. A sharp bite of pain at my hips alerted me to the demise of that particular thong, and before I could even suck in a breath of surprise, he was fully inside me.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, panting as my pussy stretched at the sudden intrusion. The polite thing for him to do would have been to pause a moment, let me adjust a bit, but this was Rafe. We barely tolerated each other, we certainly didn’t like each other, and we gave zero fucks about being polite with one another.