Bad Boy Blues (St. Mary’s Rebels, #0)

by Saffron A. Kent

“I knew the moment I tasted your lips I’d become a fiend for them. And now you’ve fucked up,” he keeps growling, jacking up my heartbeats. “Because you’re mine now, Blue. Mine. And you’ve got no idea what I’m gonna do to you.” His words are a dose of electricity. A shot of vodka. And maybe even a hit of cocaine. Everything in my body buzzes and vibrates and clenches. Even my soul. “I’ve wanted to kiss you too,” I admit. “Maybe just as long as you have.”

Shuddering, he grabs my ass and drags me up his body. I wrap my thighs around his waist as he all but falls on the bed with me in his arms. Suddenly, I’m inundated with him. His warm, hard body over me, his smell on the sheets even though I just put on fresh ones, and his mouth on mine. He’s kissing me over and over. Actually, it’s all one long kiss where he sucks on my mouth as a whole before forcing it open with his tongue. He sweeps it over my teeth, tangles it with my tongue and gorges on my taste. It’s exactly the way he smelled me that night. He was eating my smell, and now he’s eating up my mouth. He’s eating up our first kiss. Something breaks loose in my chest at the thought. This is our first kiss. I’ve known him nine years and this is the first time I’ve known his mouth. It’s a tragedy. It’s a travesty. It’s outrageous. We should’ve been kissing the very first moment we met. We should’ve been kissing for years, for ages, for eons.

We were made for kissing,...

His hands are roaming all over my body, dragging the fabric of my uniform up and up, until my thighs are all bare and open and he can knead the flesh. My own hands can’t stop touching him, feeling his shoulders, his back, grabbing his ass. The blunt heels of my boots rub against his jeans, slide along the bed as I kiss him back. I do what he tells me w...

And in all of that, I’m tasting him. His blueberry pie taste mixed in with something that’s only and irrevocably him. I’m sweeping and sucking and pulling at his mouth. And I’m moaning. I’m moaning so, so hard. I can feel the vibrations running up and down my limbs. I can feel my moans wetting my channel...

We’re writhing on the bed, humping against each other, making noises in each other’s mouths. I feel like I could come like this. I could go off like a firework, even better than last night. But Zach shifts my world again. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up. Our teeth clack as we change positions and our kiss gets broken. I’m panting into his mouth as he spreads his thighs and maneuvers my body, making me straddle him. My uniform is pooled around my waist, baring my blue panties. Th...

I can’t look away from it, from the broad head of it, the purple color. The pissed-off color of his cock. Surrounded by dark, mysterious curls. I want to touch them, touch the head of hi...

Zach thrusts my dress up some more, until my ass is bared, before grasping the cheeks in his hands and massaging them. He pulls them apart before pushing them together and every time he does that, my clit grinds against his dick. “You afraid?” he asks in an abraded voice. “No. Maybe a little.” He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips, making my heart melt. “I’m gonna use you up.” “What?” He nods, his nose rubbing up and down my own. “Yeah. Why shouldn’t I? I hate this place. I hate every second of every day that I’m here. I deserve this. I deserve something good, don’t I?” I cup his jaw and say with everything inside of me, “You do.” “I’ve decided that you’re it. You’re what I deserve.”

He kisses me again, softly, in such contrast to all the harsh, possessive things he’s saying. “So I’m going to use you up as long as I’m here. I’m going to kiss you, bite you, suck on your tits, play with your cunt. As much as I want. Whenever I want. You’re my prize, Blue. You’re my prize for all the fucking suffering.” Prize. I’m his prize. The rush of his words feels sweeter than the orgasm last night. So much sweeter. I’ve never been a prize for anyone. No one’s ever wanted me as a reward, as a trophy for all the suffering, for all the misery. Yes, I’ll be his prize.

I swallow and work on my buttons, lust pricking every inch of my skin. My fingers shiver but Zach helps me. He covers them with his hand before undoing the buttons for me. He groans lustfully when my breasts come into view, cupped by a simple blue cotton bra. “Jesus. I think this time you killed me.” I chuckle. “Then how are you still talking?” Zach’s bent over me, his abs flexing and curling, like in worship, rubbing his open mouth, his nose, his entire face in my cleavage. Making me feel… beautiful and pretty and not overly large and heavy.

“God,” he groans again as he pulls down my bra and sucks on my nipple. I jerk in his lap and clutch him to me. If this is what takes away his suffering, then I’ll show him my tits every chance I get. “You’re gonna pull down your uniform every time I ask, aren’t you?” I rock against him again because he read my mind. “Yes.” Groaning, he gives a long, tight suck before letting go of my breast. “Fuck yeah, you will. You’ll bare your tits for me. Every day. Multiple times a day. Whenever I’m hard up for it. You’ll come to my room and make my bed. And then, I’ll throw you down on it, tear your clothes off, get out your tits and suck on them. You’ll writhe for me, won’t you?” I nod, almost whimpering. “You will. I’ll keep sucking on it and sucking on it and you’ll make a mess on the bed. You’ll cream my sheets. You’ll leave a wet spot, yeah?” “Yes. For you.” Anything for him.

Zach’s hands have gotten rough on my ass, both desperate and reverent. I’m actively humping against him now. I can’t help myself. I’m rocking against his dick. His pre-cum is sliding down, mixing in with my own cream. We’re both making a mess on each other. “Yeah, you will.” He can’t stop kissing me and I can’t stop kissing him back. “Sometimes, I’ll get you on your knees, Blue. I’ll put your ass up in the air...

With his rumbled words in my ears and his dick pressing against my clit, I’m shaking on his lap. Shaking like a leaf in the wind. Or maybe like the ground during an earthquake. And then, it’s Zach’s turn. He comes with a groan, his forehead pressing against mine, his breaths covering me in a sweaty, misty film. He’s juddering against me and I notice the drops of his cum spilled on his stomach, his jeans, in my panties. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Still panting and sweaty, he lowers me on the bed, half-dressed and indecent. From this angle, the sun glares down at me but Zach blocks it with his big body.

Mine. My prize. She is my prize. She. Is. My prize.

Narrowing my eyes, I put a hand on his stomach – the stomach that I was kind of riding yesterday – and give him a push. He leans back and I say, “Very funny. Why do you call your bike by a name that you call me? And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about why do you call me Blue?” Zach throws a look at my hair and shrugs. “Yeah, that is a mystery.” “I didn’t get blue hair until the eighth grade. You’ve been calling me Blue since day one.”

Your eyes.

A lopsided smile as he traces my cheek with a thumb. “Do you know Cleopatra was an Egyptian queen?” I nod. “Yeah. My mom used to tell me that she was the most beautiful woman of her time.” “People are crazy, aren’t they?” I clutch his dark t-shirt at his waist. “Why?” “They don’t know what they’re talking about. One look at you and they would’ve snatched away her crown and laid it down at your feet.” The shudder that goes through me is the biggest one yet. He called me beautiful. Beautiful.

That’s the thing about bullying, isn’t it? It isn’t confined to a single moment. No. Bullying has consequences. It creates ripples that span for years. Sometimes for an entire life. They call you fat and so you stop eating. You watch what you eat until you die. They call you a nerd and so you stop reading in public. You still look over your shoulder when you read on a park bench. It destroys you, a vital part of you. It fucks with your mind, with your heart, with your soul even. It changes your beliefs, your lifestyle. It makes you anxious. It causes panic. It won’t let you sleep. But then again, the bullied are powerful, aren’t they? We’re resilient. We’re strong. We’re a motherfucking force.

Just as I’m finishing up, watching for any smudges, I hear him. I hear his zip opening and my lipstick almost clatters down in the sink. I grab the edge of the counter; my breaths are too heavy, too fast. “Now, come here,” he commands. I look at him in the mirror. He’s sprawled on the toilet seat, his thighs spread wide. The space is so small and he’s so large that his one thigh touches the ceramic bathtub and the other, the tiled white wall. His jeans are open, hanging limply around his cut waist, while his t-shirt is shoved up, baring his lower stomach and that V. And he’s stroking his dick, with his eyes on me.

I want to hear him talk dirty to me. Tell me all about the things he wants me to do to ease his suffering. There’s a knowing light in Zach’s eyes as if he’s aware of my game. “Because I’ve been sitting out there, doing your bidding, reading a kid’s story for God knows how many hours. I’m tired, horny and fucking pissed off.” He gestures to his dick that he’s still stroking, going up and down. “You see him? He needs you. He needs you to wrap your blue-painted lips around him and suck him like a goddamn lollipop.” I bend my knees while pressing my legs together. He’s creating a ruckus in my body with his words.

“But what if I…” I lick my blue-painted lips slightly. “I smear my lipstick all over him?” His fingers tighten around his cock, pinching the top. “I’m counting on it.” I bite my lip, imagining the length of him covered in blue lipstick. Suddenly, I can’t wait to paint him. I can’t wait to color his dick with my lips.

The very first thing that hits me right in the gut is his scent. His musk is stronger than his blueberry pie smell and I lick my lips again as I watch his hand go up and down over his length. “You like lollipops, Blue?” “Yes.” I keep watching his cock. It’s like a rod, hard and heavy, rounded at the top. Big, like everything else about him. Thick enough that I know there might be some discomfort when I put him in my mouth. I’ll have to watch for my teeth, make sure not to cut him. He’s going to be bumping against them, even against the roof of my mouth.

Like yesterday, the pre-cum is leaking down, making it sticky, making his hand sticky too. And I want to taste that stickiness badly. So badly that I decide that I’ll do anything, anything at all to suck him off. “What’s your favorite flavor?” he asks. I look at his face, finally. He’s breathing hard, through his mouth, his eyes drugged up, stoned, and I know he’s dying for this as much as me. We’re both dying and my lips on his dick is the only way to keep us alive.

“You. You’re my favorite flavor,” I whisper, and he groans, throwing his head back, bumping it against the wall. I splay open my hands on his thighs and, opening my mouth, I kiss the crown of his shaft. And just like that, his hand falls away and he makes it into a fist, punching his knee. “Fuck.” That first kiss is all it takes. For me to get addicted to it. Addicted to him and his...

And again, that very first suck is all it takes for me to get so attuned to him that every little hitch in his breath as I move my tongue around, discover the roundedness, the sponginess of his head, resonates in my core. “Fuck, Blue,” Zach moans and buries his fingers in my hair. Those sticky, sticky, covered-in-his-lust fingers. I don’t know why that arouse...

I move one hand from his thigh and grip the base of his dick, rubbing my thumb over the vein that runs on the underside of it. I decide to look for it later, when I’m done smearing my lipstick and eating him up like he ate me out against that truck. For now, I’m going to rub my lips all over that trunk of flesh and paint him blue. I go up and down, my breasts bouncing, my knees grinding on the tiled floor of the bathroom as I smear my l...

At my question, he opens his eyes and his abs flex. He looks at his cock – it’s smudged with blue – and then, at me. “Fucking perfect.” Smiling, I lick up that vein I’ve been thinking about and his hips jerk. God, his cock is a miracle, I swear. Thick and long and sturdy, and I need to get back to it. So I do. Gr...

The more I suck it, the more my cunt spasms, the harder my nipples get. My breasts have become a source of torment. They’re heavy, and as I kneel on the hard floor, almost on all fours, they pull and dangle and shake every time I take him in deeper. I have about half of his length inside me now and I’m on a mission to swallow all of him up. From the little je...

Just as I’m about to try for it though, he pulls me away. He tugs on my hair and tilts my neck up and stares down at my face. “You’ve made a mess, Blue,” he says roughly, as his gaze moves over my lips and his thumb flicks at the corners of it. “You asked for it,” I whisper. “I did.” “But I’m not done yet.” “No?” “I think I missed a few spots. I need to be thorough,” I breathe. “Besides, I-I’m still hungry. I still need to suck and suck and suck un...

Still growling, he presses a hard – the hardest ever – kiss on my mouth. “Bedroom.” A dark thrill courses through me at his tone. “Now,” he orders when I simply keep looking at him and don’t move fast enough for his liking. I stand up on shaky legs and Zach kisses me again. Still kissing, we make our way to my bedroom. Somehow, we land on my bed. Zach attacks my shorts, opening the buttons and shoving them down my legs, along with my panties. It’s so frantic and desperate that I don’t even think to ask him about his intentions. I kick them off and he maneuvers me over him.

He’s lying on the bed as he spins me around until my mouth’s on his cock and his is in my drenched and bare core. Finally, the words blurt out of me. “What’re you doing?” “Need your pussy on my face while you’re sucking me off,” he mutters. His words alone cause a mini-orgasm in me and I fall on the bed, on my elbows, my wild blue hair making a curtain around my lips and his cock. Two things that are made for each other. Then he takes a long, greedy swipe of my pussy and I lose my mind.

I burn and the only way to soothe it is to wrap my naked lips around his cock again. Oh God, this is sixty-nine, isn’t it? Why does it make me feel so fucking dirty and turned on at the same time? My sucks stutter when I feel his fingers rubbing up my wet slit. It makes me moan, those blunt fingers playing with me while I’m giving him head. My nails dig into his thighs and my breasts press into his flexing stomach as I come up for air before putting him back in my mouth, trying to take him in even further. “You’re so wet, baby,” he groans over me. “And you shaved for ...

I prepare myself for the invasion but I guess I’m so wet that I don’t feel the pained impact when he inserts his thumb in my pussy. I feel a slight pressure and a little stretch when he moves it around a bit but it’s not bad. Not at all. It’s so fucking good.

“I can feel it, baby,” he pants. “I can feel your cherry. It’s there. It’s tiny and it won’t let me get through. Feels like it’s taunting me.” The last part of his speech is less words and more grunts. You should bust it then. Tear it open so you can get in.

Just as that thought flashes through my mind all bright and shiny like a star, I come. I spasm around his fingers and that makes his shaft jerk inside my mouth. I let his head go and peek out my tongue so he can come on it like I’m coming on his fingers. The tightness and convulsions of his body match mine. And so do our noises. Probably our heartbeats match too, in this moment. I drink him down all the while he’s milking me. His taste is just as I imagined it to be. Musky and spicy and him. So fucking him. So fucking Zach. The guy I belong to. The guy who thinks I’m his prize. Somehow, he also feels like the guy I should give everything to. Even my virginity.

His hair’s sweaty and delicious and he has his vest-type t-shirt on and there’s a bowl of something sweet in front of him. I don’t have the time to check out what it might be because I’m busy staring at him with Leslie. It’s not a secret that after Zach helped Art, he’s everyone’s favorite. The cooking staff can’t wait to serve him. The girls can’t stop eyeing him and giggling and gossiping about the magnificence of his body and that face and that smirk and how strong he is. His workouts by the pool are pretty famous too.

And every time his expression becomes cagey, I know what comes next. His kisses and his hands. Jesus, his hands are always so desperate and horny, on the verge of tearing my clothes off so he can get to my bare skin. To my breasts, my thighs, my pussy. As if he needs it all like he needs the air. As if he needs to make me come and he needs to come himself while I’m spasming in his arms. And all I can do is give in to him. Why wouldn’t I? I’m his prize, right? Except, maybe those are simply words.

Maybe he says them to everyone. Maybe he said it to Leslie, the girl he’s been flirting with so openly while he sneaks into my cottage like a thief. It’s crazy, I know. I was the one who wanted all the secrecy, even if I forgot to plan for it. He’s just adhering to my wishes. Never looking at each other if we ever pass by in the hallways. Not talking while having breakfast. Never saying a word to each other if I accidentally come upon him by the pool and he’s out there, either working out or swimming. It’s me. I set the rules and Zach’s been so careful about protecting me and this stupid job. I realize that I don’t like it. I don’t like the necessary secrecy and that he’s touching someone else. I don’t like that he’s too engrossed in her to notice me.

I’m in such a hurry that I bump into someone at the end of the hallway. It’s Ryan. He steadies me with his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?” His gentle voice makes me want to cry but I hold on. “Yeah. Sorry. I should stop doing that to you.” Chuckling, he says, “I don’t mind.” “How are you?” I ask, studying his handsome face. He has always made me feel safe. Always. And now that I look at him, I realize that maybe I wasn’t made for safe. Safe does nothing for me. I wasn’t made to be handled with gentle fingers and soft touches. Maybe I was made for rough strokes, pulling hands and harsh stares.

Zach steps closer to me and my heart takes an extra beat when his smell hits my nose. The night is hot as always but the heat coming off his tight body is like an inferno, and my pores sweat just by his nearness. He drags in a long breath, his nostrils flaring. “I never lied to you. I never promised you anything. You’ve seen me at my worst, Blue. I’ve showed you my worst self. And when you begged me to kiss you, I told you that you were mine. And still, you let him touch you. You let him put his mouth on you.”

“You stopped.” I walk backward. “I didn’t want to run anymore.” He walks forward, toward me. “Why not?” Because he is to me what sharp objects are to fragile things. What a flame is to a moth. Destiny. We are destiny, Zach and I. We’re stars, aren’t we? You can’t run from destiny. You can’t outrun fate. You can’t stop a moth from perishing in flames and you can’t stop a sharp object from making a fragile thing bleed. “Because I don’t want to play games anymore.”

He moves his hands and buries them in my loose hair, tilting up my neck. “You know what belonging to me means?” “What?” His forehead drops to mine. “It means that you’re the only thing in this world that I feel… responsible for.” His frown is so deep that I feel it on my skin. “You’re the first thing that’s ever belonged to me. The very first thing and I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” My heart’s gone. I don’t hear it. Slowly, it’s falling out of my body and I know right down to my soul that if I don’t stop it, it’ll leave forever. It’ll die.

Zach steps into me and I feel him on my stomach. His thick, hard cock. It jerks against me and in reply, my core clenches. And I know what he meant by his repeated words, about not wanting to hurt me. I know why he asked me to run. “We’re going to have sex, aren’t we?” “You’re a virgin.” I grab onto his t-shirt. “And you’re so big.” Groaning, he rolls his forehead over mine. “You’re so tiny, I’ll hurt you.” I feel a drop of cum leaving me and seeping into my panties. This is so reminiscent of that night when he asked me if I was a virgin or not. “Yeah. You’ll stretch me out.” He grinds his erection into me and I moan, thrusting my breasts at his chest. “No matter how careful I am.” It’s okay. Let my heart die. In its place, I’ll make a new one. A heart that only beats for this lonely, lonely boy in front of me.

“And you know what belonging to me means?” I whisper. Zach looks into my eyes. “What?” I’m lonely too. My parents are gone. They took away my house. There’s nothing in this world that belongs to me. Except him. “It means that I trust you. It means that I know you’ll be careful. And it means that you’re the only one I want to give my cherry to.” I lean up and place a kiss on his soft lips. But Zach deepens it. He presses a hand on the back of my head and pushes open my mouth with his tongue...

Zach carries me into the cottage through the back door that I’d left open when I marched out to meet him. In my bedroom, he lowers my feet to the floor and, kneeling, he takes off my boots. The light’s switched off but the window’s open and the moon’s strong. Somewhere up there, I have faith that tonight Orion has caught up with The Pleiades. At least tonight, he’s resting.

He glances up from where he was watching himself toy with my hair. Boring his eyes into mine, Zach lets go of the strand and wraps his hand over the nape of my neck in possession. “But maybe I’m watching you because I can’t stop. Because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And because your blue hair reminds me of the sky and the ocean. Freedom.” Blood’s rushing just under my skin, painting everything scarlet. I’ve never been so awake in the middle of the night, so colored and flushed.

Chuckling, he kisses me lightly. This time, I’m the one who deepens it. I’m the one who invades his mouth and nips his lower lip, making him groan. A second later though, he’s taking over. His hands fist my nightie before pulling it up and off my body. Just like that, I’m nearly naked, standing there in my blue boy shorts. In my head, I knew we were going to have sex. But somehow, I didn’t connect the dots that I’d have to be naked for it. God, I’m naked. I’m naked. In front of a guy. In front of him. The most perfect specimen ever. He’s made of hard, sculpted muscles that, yes, I know he works for every single day. And I’m made of pillowy, doughy fat that I get from all the candies I used to steal from the kitchen cabinet when Mom wasn’t looking.

Zach takes in a deep breath and says, in a guttural tone, “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined you naked?” I look up and remember he said something similar about kissing me. “A thousand times?” A puff of air escapes him and he nods.

Zach puts his hand on the center of my chest, right in the middle of my heaving breasts. He splays his palm, touching both of them at the same time. “Jesus. The number of times I’ve jerked off imagining your tits. I can’t even tell you.” He circles my left nipple with his thumb, shrinking it into a hard pebble. He loves playing with them; I know that. He loves waking them up, worrying them with his fingers, sucking them with his mouth. His hand moves down and without my volition, my spine arches. He reaches my stomach and digs his thumb into my belly button. Somehow, he’s pressing into that vein again. The one that swells and becomes taut every time he’s close, every time I think about him.

Zach’s breathing has become harsh as he keeps going. His hand travels down, rough and enticing, and slides inside my panties. The moment he touches my drenched core my legs go taut and my heels leave the floor. I’m standing on my tiptoes, hardly able to balance myself. He moves toward me and our bodies meet, me naked and exposed and him still wearing his t-shirt and jeans, burning me with their friction. Sliding his arm around my waist, he helps me maintain my balance as his other hand cups my entire pussy. “Zach.” I moan his name and he squeezes it like it’s an object.