Chapter 18
The motel’s neon sign buzzed like it knew exactly what I was about to do. I lit another cigarette, dragging it deep into my pained chest, tasting smoke and fury mingling together.
You’re just like your father.
Shiloh’s words cut sharper than any blade, carving right into my damn chest, setting fire to every restraint I’d ever kept.
I paced the balcony, my boots scraping rusted metal, my fists clenched so damn hard, blood dripped from my palms. The air was as heavy as my fucking soul, thick with heat and anger.
My mind replayed his words over and over, like a warped record player in my fucked up head. Every syllable felt like a taunt—a challenge I didn’t know how to face.
You have more fucking darkness than you even realize, Sunshine. I kill. I torture, but at least they fucking see me coming.
I muttered curses, pacing around, and throwing the cigarette to the asphalt below. The sparks scattered around until they faded altogether.
Like my fucking heart.
My body ached, not just from the massive blue balls, but from the rage that churned like molten fire inside me. I wanted to break something, someone. Something real and fucking tangible that I could feel succumbing to my control.
“Hey, big boy. How much are you?”
The old bag’s comments made me think of Shiloh’s response from before. It had felt like a sense of ownership then, but maybe he was just trying to avoid anyone coming close. He didn’t want these people in our room, our bed.
Good.
“If you value your neck, walk on, grandma,” I warned, waving her off without moving from my position on the balcony.
And that’s when I saw him, leaning against a dented sedan at the far edge of the lot.
Slim build, light blond hair, tense and alert eyes…
He was not Shiloh, but close enough in build and posture, enough to hit a fucking nerve.
You want to reject me, Sunshine? Let me show you how fucking replaceable you are.
I strode over to the man, long and purposeful steps. He didn’t see me until I caught him by the collar of his shirt. “You staying here?” I said, low, commanding.
“Uh…yeah…room twelve,” he stammered, trying to turn to look at me.
“Not anymore,” I said, shoving him lightly against the car. His eyes widened, fear edged with curiosity. Perfect. Willing enough. “Come with me, pretty boy.”
He hesitated. “Uh..why?”
“Shut up and walk.” I didn’t give him the chance to respond. “Now.”
He followed.
“Good boy.”
Back in the room, Shiloh was on the bed, lying tense, clothed in his pajamas and holding his chest as if it was too tight to breathe. His eyes followed me, wide and wary as I entered the room. He thought I’d cooled down. Thought he had a chance to reclaim control.
Ha.
Get fucking ready, Sunshine.
I shoved the stranger onto the bed across from Shiloh, my hands rough in his hair, forcing him down.
My eyes never left Shiloh’s. My lips grazed the stranger’s throat, my teeth biting hard, marking him, and moaning as I ground my body into his.
Every gasp, every shiver, every soft moan was meant for Shiloh.
“You see this, Sunshine?” I whispered, my voice dangerous. “This could’ve been you. But you won’t let yourself feel anything fucking real. You’re so intent on living between darkness and fucking light. So now you’re going to watch someone else taking what you denied me.”
Shiloh’s jaw clenched, his fists gripping the sheets. Heat burned across his cheeks, and his body betrayed him with trembling hands and shifting hips.
“Don’t look away,” I growled, catching his eyes. “You’ll watch every fucking second of this. Every sound, every mark, every filthy fucking thrust is for you to see. You wanna deny me, that’s fine. But now you’ll watch what you claim you don’t want.”
I ripped open the stranger’s flimsy shirt, eliciting a gasp from both him and Shiloh. Leaning down, I kept my eyes locked on Shiloh as I kissed the stranger’s chest, my teeth nipping his skin, my hands sliding roughly, tugging at his jeans.
The stranger didn’t fight me, knowing damn well this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Shiloh’s breathing hitched, sharp and ragged. He tried to look away, but I held his gaze, forcing him to watch. Rage and need warred across his breathtaking face.
“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, Sunshine,” I hissed. “Thinking you could control me, tell me no, play God with your limits. But guess what? I’m worse. I’m the fucking devil, and I don’t stop.”
Shiloh’s hands balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. Sweat glistened at his hairline, and every inch of him was alive with want and humiliation.
I leaned closer to the stranger, biting him again, harder, grinding, and letting Shiloh see every fucking deliberate motion.
“See how easy it is to replace you?” I whispered to Shiloh. “All it takes is someone willing. Someone who doesn’t pretend to care about control. Unlike you. This man wants me to fuck him, don’t you?”
The stranger groaned, and the sound grated my nerves, but I pulled him forward to my mouth, kissing him so hard I heard Shiloh whimper.
“Suck my fucking cock, whore. Get it nice and wet for your ass.”
Shiloh’s face burned crimson, while his breath came in ragged gasps. He tried to speak, curse at me, or maybe throw some insult, but he couldn’t. His mouth was in a tight line.
I stood and dragged the stranger onto the floor, my hands rough. I positioned him right at the side of Shiloh’s bed.
“Suck me now. Or I’ll fuck you raw,” I warned the stranger, dropping my pants and stroking my thickness. Each pull of my dick made Shiloh lean forward more.
“Oh. Hot piercings, wow.” The man sat perfectly on his knees and grabbed my dick, popping me into his warm mouth. I tried to resist the urge to throw him off me, the sensation on my skin screaming how wrong this felt.
“Good,” I growled, gripping his hair to the point of pain and slamming in all the way to the base. “I hope it makes you fucking bleed.”
Every groan and gasp rang in Shiloh’s ears as the man sucked me deep, and every filthy whisper I spoke to the whore cut him deeper.
“Beg me, Sunshine. Beg me to stop. Or beg me to make it you instead. Doesn’t matter. You’re mine. Always were. You fucking know you are, and that’s why you’re so goddamn adamant to pull away.”
Shiloh’s body was vibrating, his teeth chattering, his hips mimicking the movements of the man bobbing on my cock.
His throat was taut with unspoken need.
And I smirked. I’d lit him up with his own fucking light. Threw a goddamn match and watched as he burned. I had taken his control, holding it over him like a dagger, ready to fucking impale him the way he did to me.
“Mmm. Fuck you suck so fucking well, Baby Boy.”
I was speaking to Shiloh, conjuring memories to get through the uncomfortable blow job from the man below me.
“You fucking hate this,” Shiloh said suddenly, and I stiffened. He couldn’t see that. I was masking everything, portraying pure bliss on my face, roaring with pleasure.
Shiloh smiled, getting off the bed, and walking closer to me.
“I have seen your pleasure, Care Bear. This isn’t it. Are you that desperate to hurt me that you’d endure something that looks so painful for you?”
Yes.
“No,” I said. But it was a weak response. My dick was softening even now.
Shiloh was coated in sweat, his hands shook, his skin flushed, and his parted lips told the story I wanted. He was bathed in anger and need. Every inch of him radiated that mix of rage and desire. But something else lingered…a mirrored reflection of my own emotion.
Pain.
I growled and threw the man off my dick, his body flying back toward the bed.
“See?” I said, cruelly intimate, pressing my body right up against Shiloh. My fucking dick hardened instantly. “You can’t control me. You never could. You’re mine, Sunshine. Even when you hate it. You’re fucking mine. Mine to suck, mine to fuck, and mine to—”
I stopped myself, dizziness swimming in my veins. I was not going to say…love.
Shiloh stared me right in the eyes. The big pools of blue looked like the raging ocean.
“Get out of our fucking room, and be lucky you’re leaving alive,” he ordered, turning toward the man against the door, scrambling to get his clothes.
There was so much in Shiloh’s eyes. So many emotions I was too scared to name. When the door slammed shut, Shiloh finally broke eye contact with me.
“Go fucking shower, Carrington. Now.”
I narrowed my eyes at the challenge in his voice, but when I opened my mouth to argue, he pulled his shirt over his head, turning to walk to the bathroom. I closed my trap and followed him, and the trail of clothes he left in his wake.