Chapter Twenty-One #4
The edge of the table bit into her hips as he pressed his hard cock against her. He held the meat of her shoulder and leaned back just enough to slick the head of his cock up her entrance, gathering her arousal.
Over and over again, he teased them both, and it lit the fire of her anger. She hated that he had the ability to make her feel lust so deeply. It almost felt like a different emotion altogether.
“Skye…” Remi said her name with hesitation, with a question in the single syllable, and it infuriated her even more.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? I’m getting bored,” she said. “Fuck me already.”
“Fine,” he snapped and slammed inside of her. The force of it made her wince as the edge of the table scraped along her hipbones.
She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and tried to tune out the riot of sensations inside her, tried to defend against the way her body was heating up again, desire and need making her clench around him.
The heavy, full press of him inside her was so delicious, each thrust stroking her g-spot and building her toward another orgasm that she needed as much as she didn’t want.
A pounding came from outside the door. The door handle rattled. West and Liam were yelling something over top of the sound of the paparazzi’s screaming questions. She should care that they were giving them all a story to sell. Rock star locked himself in the tour bus to do drugs.
Little did they know, Remi and Skye were doing something even worse than an addictive and toxic substance.
Remi leaned over her, the line of his body curling around hers, his breath at the back of her ear. He propped himself up on the table, his hand next to hers. She bit her lip until she drew blood. Humiliation and need and dark hunger rolled through her.
She whimpered, a high-pitched strangled whine she’d never heard from herself before.
“Shut up, or the guys will hear their band manager getting railed,” Remi said, squeezing a handful of her ass until she was sure the skin would be bright red from the abuse, and then he spanked the raw, aching flesh.
She wanted to scold him, to protest that he couldn’t tell her what to do, but the words were lost to a moan as the pain and pleasure of his treatment brought her to a horrible, new height. There was nothing she could do but hold on.
The reflection of them stared back at her in the dark tint of the one-way windows above the table. Her hair swung and her breasts jiggled as Remi ruthlessly fucked her from behind. His anger and hatred obvious in his pursed lips and unrelenting rhythm.
His gaze met hers in the reflection, and desperation shone in his blue eyes. He screwed up his face, resisting the same sensations that were pulling Skye into an abyss she wasn’t ready to encounter.
“Skye…” he said slowly, his rough voice broken and raspy. The way her name sounded on his lips was like venom—quick and painful until the bliss of oblivion took over and moved her body into the clouds.
“God…” he breathed the word out. “You’re so—” He stuttered to a stop and didn’t finish the sentence.
That same awareness sparked through her chest, recognition to something unspoken and unacknowledged.
So beautiful, he’d said while she’d fucked him in one of his dreams. He touched her with such reverence that it made her want to break into tiny pieces from the foreign sensations it brought to the surface.
Remi snaked his hands between her hips and the table, using his forearms to protect her from the bite of pain on her hip bones. He played with her clit and forced her to orgasm again.
“Want—the bargain—to work,” she said between pants as she touched the birthmark on her wrist. “Need—to be—done with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, the words starting harsh like a jeer, but he ended with a soft, pleading, “Yes.”
His groan as he came was one of pain and pleasure, a matching agony to the darkness blooming in Skye’s chest. Her body shook from the orgasm that worked through her.
There was a moment where neither of them moved from their position. Remi pressed his forehead into her back, and he mindlessly rolled his face between her shoulder blades.
An ache she couldn’t name crawled up her throat, and she swallowed down whatever was trying to come up.
Heat blistered at the hollow of her throat.
“Get off me,” she said.
Remi complied, and she pushed herself up to her elbows to yank off the necklace as it burned her skin.
She stood, staring at the bright ice-blue of Remi’s soul—not a single shadow lurking in its depths—and she righted her shirt and her panties. She bent down and scooped her shorts off the floor and pulled them on, pocketing the necklace carefully so it didn’t make contact with her skin.
She had no idea what her face looked like, but she kept her gaze focused down, unable to meet Remi’s eye.
“Skye?”
She didn’t bother to say a word as she gathered her flames to sift away. Away from the bus. Away from him. Away from whatever the fuck was happening between them. Away from whatever the fuck was happening to her.
“Skye, wait. Don’t go.”
She had Remi’s soul. The bargain was solidified. Her wings were safe. There was nothing left to stay for. She sifted away as a shadowy, foreign power burned through her veins.