Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 257

Chapter 257: 257. The Competition V

Maisie

I crawled out from under the desk on my hands and knees, cheeks burning under Headmistress Atlas’s razor-sharp stare. Her nose wrinkled with disapproval the second she got a full look at me.

My shirt was twisted halfway up my stomach. One side of my bra was still unhooked. And I could feel the sting of what had to be a constellation of fresh hickeys blooming along my neck.

I forced a bright, nervous laughter as I stood, straightening my clothes.

"Headmistress! Hi. Didn’t see you there." My voice came out an octave too high. "Jer--Professor Ivanov and I were just discussing my... academic performance. Very impressive. And then my pen fell, so I was just... looking--retrieving it-- " I gestured vaguely under the desk and my hand bumped into Jericho’s boat of marking pens.

The entire thing tipped and crashed into the ground in different colours, and one bright pen rolled in Atlas’s direction and tapped gently against Atlas’s foot.

The silence that followed was so loud it echoed in the office.

Jericho rubbed a hand down his face. His shoulders were shaking. I thought he was laughing.

"This is unacceptable behaviour," she said, voice clipped. "Both of you. I will not have faculty and students turning my academy into a brothel. Keep your... activities off these grounds. I’ll give you a minute to...". Her eyes flicked over both our disheveled states.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "One. Minute."

The door had barely shut behind her when Jericho moved, his mouth crashing into mine, one hand already fisting in my hair while the other gripped my hip and hauled me flush against him.

I made a startled sound that turned into a moan when his tongue slid against mine.

My back hit the shelf so hard, it rattled the spines, toppling a few books, and a sigh of long suffering came from the hallway outside.

"Goddess save us all," Atlas muttered, though it barely registered.

The hard line of Jericho’s body pinned me in place and my heat pooled between my thighs as the thick ridge of his cock pushed against my stomach.

My hands moved down the front of his shirt, over the delicious muscles of his biceps and his torso.

Goddess, I needed help. I couldn’t stop touching him. I loved touching him. "God, I missed you," I whispered between kisses.

He grunted, and when my hands found his pants again, Jericho growled into my mouth. He caught both my wrists in one hand before I could stick my hands into his briefs and slammed them above my head against the shelf.

The position stretched me out beneath him, completely at his mercy, and he used it ruthlessly, kissing me deeper, slower, like he had all the time in the world to ruin me.

When he finally dragged his mouth away, we were both breathing hard.

"We’ll finish this later," he said against my lips, voice hoarse.

My head was filled with air. "T-the mansion?" I managed.

He shook his head once, still so close, it felt like torture when he stopped me from kissing him again. "School’s safer for now. I’m on babysitting duty tonight anyway."

"Babysitting duty?"

"Soren mentioned one of us has to be in a building with you at all times," he said. "It was Quinlan’s night the day before yesterday, and Soren’s yesterday."

Oh. Oh. That explained a lot. Which meant Mercer’s was tomorrow? Yikes. I really wasn’t looking forward to that.

I tipped my face up, chasing his mouth. "I’ll leave my door unlocked."

I felt Jericho grin against my lips. "Don’t. I’ll use the window."

A surprised laugh escaped me. "It’s several stories high."

His smile widened. "I know."

He stole another kiss from me. Softer this time, sweeter, and my head went up into the clouds. When he stepped away, I swayed from the loss of his heat.

Then he reached for my shoulder, adjusting the strap of my bra, before tugging my shirt back into place. He fixed my hair next, tucking a few wild strands behind my ear.

"Perfect," he said, and I blushed, hard.

He fixed his own clothes next and pulled on his coat, looking all professional again.

Well. Almost.

He had scratches from my nails on his neck. And a bright hickey just above his collar where everyone could see.

I didn’t tell him. I was feeling extra territorial this morning. I wanted everyone to know he was mine.

"Found you," it said.

What the hell?

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