Chapter Sixteen
Skye tasted sweet as sin, and Remi immediately recognized the kiss for what it was—the start of an addiction.
A primal rage pounded through his veins. The urge to yell, fight, smash—fuck—quickened his pulse until he was breathless, panting against her lips.
“What are you doing to me?” His voice lower than a whisper, more a single huff of air. “Why don’t I want you to stop?”
He wasn’t sure what angered him more—Skye claiming for months she wasn’t tricking Remi, only for him to find out she’d tricked others. Or the fact that he wasn’t the only one to get this treatment from her.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to know or analyze what fueled his instinct to smash that dickbag’s face in.
He only wanted to excise this demon from his life, and apparently, that meant he was going to plant his lips on Skye and kiss her like he’d been dying to do since the first moment he’d seen her.
Laurie had told him to give Skye what she wanted. Well, fuck that. Remi was going to take what he wanted.
She made a gasping noise as Remi’s fingers knotted into her hair. He tilted her head up so he could claim her mouth from a better position. His other hand wrapped around her back and squeezed her body against him. Any of Skye’s previous hesitation melted away, and her lips yielded to Remi’s desire.
Skye’s hands trailed up his chest, squeezed his pecs and over his shoulders, hard enough that Remi grunted into their kiss. Her strength always surprised him, aroused him.
Their kiss was violent, teeth clinking and tongues clashing, hunger burning through them that they both seemed powerless to resist. He could taste her anger in every sweep of her tongue against his. Could feel the vibration of need ricocheting off her body, colliding with him.
Without breaking the kiss, he swiped his hand over the vanity table, making everything crash down to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and hauled her onto the table. Her legs pulled his hips into her, and she kissed him harder.
This. This is what he needed. What they needed. What had been building between them from the moment she entered his dreams. Remi kissed her like it was a punishment.
He ripped his mouth away and nipped and sucked along her neck. “I fucking hate you,” he growled into her skin, squeezing the soft flesh of her ass.
“I hate you too,” Skye said, digging her fingernails into his back. He hissed as she broke the skin. “You’re ruining my life.”
“Good,” he said, kissing the red mark he’d sucked into her skin. He wanted to leave more marks. Wanted her to see the imprint of his teeth when she looked in the mirror. Wanted her to sift to Hell so Laurie and Zara could see exactly who was playing with who.
“I want this bargain to work so I can be done with you for good,” she said and shimmied off her tiny shorts. He lifted her shirt over her head.
His dreams had nothing on reality. The way the curve of her cleavage fell out over the top of her lace bra, her hard nipples poking through the soft fabric, the tiny red triangle of fabric between her legs only connected by thin strings.
Black ink curved over the expanse of her thigh, a snake weaving among flowers.
He couldn’t imagine any tattoo more fitting.
A serpent hidden within beauty. He didn’t think about how the black snake matched the one that he’d had inked up his own neck.
Something about the symmetry of her silver septum piercing and the black choker around her neck made her so perfect it almost hurt. Like staring into the fire, his eyes burned, but he couldn’t look away.
“Isn’t that what you want?” she asked. “For this bargain to work and be done with me?”
She undid her bra and flung it aside. The soft tumble of her brown hair curled around her breasts. His thoughts skittered to a stop, lust-drunk and overwhelmed. The soft pinkish-brown of her nipples greeted him.
“Huh, Remi?” Skye said. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes,” he whispered as he bent forward and licked a hard bud while cupping both of her breasts.
He lost track of what he was doing and what he was supposed to be proving.
His tongue swirled and teased each nipple.
Skye twined her fingers into the long strands of his hair and yanked him exactly where she wanted him, her demanding actions only turning him on more. His hard cock ached in his mesh shorts.
He curled his fingers into the string band of her underwear and tugged them off.
Skye smirked, leaning back. Maybe she was winning whatever battle they were in since Remi couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She was a dream. Her hooded eyes, puffy kiss-abused lips, tight little buds of her nipples glistening from his mouth, and the full swell of her stomach and thighs.
He squeezed the base of his dick to try and keep ahold of himself as she parted those gorgeous thighs and her pretty pussy came into view.
“Fuck,” he whispered. His knees were already weak, so when she lifted her leg to plant her foot on his shoulder and push him to the ground, she didn’t even need to exert her demon strength to do it.
Remi dipped his head and wrapped his arms under her thighs. The intoxicating scent of Skye’s bittersweetness got him high. He licked up her core where the perfume of her arousal was the strongest, lingering at the top, teasing the edges of her clit.
He’d never got to do this in his dreams. Well, not in the dreams that Skye had infiltrated, at least. In his shameful, self-fabricated dreams, he was back in his bedroom in New Orleans, and instead of finger fucking her to get his bargain, he was like this, on his knees, between her legs, earning his bargain with his tongue.
Remi kissed and licked her clit until it was hard and throbbing.
He listened to the shifts in Skye’s breathing, the little aborted gasps and sighs, and found the pace and technique she liked.
Her legs trembled, and he chanced a look up at her.
The demon-red haze had taken over the brown of her eyes.
Her soft, plush lips were parted. But the moment their gazes locked, the pleasure sapped from her face.
“Enough,” she said, her chest heaving. “Just come here.” She grabbed him and manhandled him to standing.
He tugged off his shirt, tossing it away as she pushed down his mesh shorts.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she dug her heels into his ass, pulling him in before snaking a hand between their bodies.
He grunted as she grabbed his dick and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her entrance, collecting her juices. He was about to just push in when common sense smacked him in the face.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Condom.”
He’d never been so close to making that mistake before. He tried to turn and get one from his wallet, but her legs tightened to hold him in place.
“Demons don’t get STIs, and you can’t get me pregnant,” Skye said. She stroked him once, and he almost blacked out at how good it felt.
“Really?” he asked dumbly.
“Yep.” Then she lined him up and forced him inside her warm heat.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, his eyes falling shut and his head leaning forward onto her shoulder as he held on to her curvy ass, plunging as deep as he could.
Distantly, some part of him was freaking out at this turn of events. Oh my god. I can’t believe she’s letting me fuck her. Oh my god. How can this be better than all of my dreams?
The rational part of his brain was also screaming at him. What are you doing? She stole your soul and ruined your life! What the hell is wrong with you?
Those parts weren’t winning though. His body took over, some internal drive demanding fulfillment that only their bodies colliding together could satisfy.
Skye scratched down his back, halting every thought in his mind. “Move,” she demanded.
He hated himself for it, but he obeyed, thrusting into her and giving in to his obsession.
They moved together, in tandem, as if magnetized and repelled all at once, a rhythm that they’d been practicing since the moment Skye infiltrated his dreams. The tension of having been bracing himself for the disaster she’d inevitably bring unfurled in each thrust, like he was fucking her out of his system.
Her eyes fluttered, and her gasps turned into moans as he changed angles, picked up speed, and fucked into her.
She was so fucking wet and tight, and her breasts swayed against his chest as the vanity thumped against the wall. She flung her head back. The lace choker necklace with its black diamond in the center of her throat shifted left and right.
“Where are your wings?” he asked, panting. “Your tail and horns?”
She narrowed her eyes and rolled her hips, grinding against him. “You aren’t touching my wings.”
Remi squeezed her hips so she couldn’t rub her clit against his pubic bone. “Why not? I know how you like it.”
Skye rolled her eyes. “No, you don’t. Nothing in those dreams was real. Not the way I looked. Not the way I sounded.”
Remi glared at her. She did look different.
She hadn’t had the tattoo on her thigh, and she sounded far better too.
The moans he pulled from her felt like a victory because he knew she was trying to conceal them.
She certainly felt better than anything he remembered.
His hold on her loosened. Sickening dread rolled through him at the reminder that he was nothing but a game to her.
She sensed his weakness and pulled back, raising a triumphant eyebrow. “Definitely not my orgasms either.”
His chest rumbled with a feral growl. Rage thrummed through him. That sounded like a fucking challenge.
“You’re going to eat your words when you come on my cock,” he said under his breath.
“Doubtf—” Her snarky word was cut off by an intake of air as Remi thumbed her clit and bent his knees a little so he was striking her g-spot. He focused all his attention on forcing the woman—the demoness—he was in a losing war with to come hard enough that she wouldn’t be able to walk straight.