Page 21 of Brutal Days

“And you love it.” I trailed my hand across her body then wrapped it around her delicate neck with enough pressure to hold her in place but not hurt her. She would be helpless as I played her body like a fine-tuned instrument, people moving like ants below us, all within her vision. I took away her control. All she could do was feel as I trailed my hand along her flat stomach then dipped beneath her panties.

I groaned at the first brush along her seam, enjoying the shudder that swept through her. Fuck. She was wet. She tried to cover her face, and I tightened my hold.

“Hands flat on the window.”

“They’ll see me.”

I nipped at her ear, following the sting with a swipe of my tongue. “Maybe.”

“I can’t do this.” Tension threaded through desire as her body tightened, stiff beneath my touch. She tried to close her legs.

“Open.” I gripped her neck tighter, stilling her movement as she tried to free herself. “If you want to stop, I will, but then the deal’s off. You’re reneging on your end of the bargain.” I pressed open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, wrapping myself firmly around her. My cock strained against my jeans, desperate to slide into her.

She eased her legs open and leaned fully against me as I crowded her toward the window. A shiver skated over her skin as I brushed my finger over her seam again, spreading the silky wetness as I went. Parting her, I groaned at how wet and soft she was beneath my touch. I dipped one finger inside her tight heat while my thumb traced slow, slick circles over her clit.

I built her desire in slow, agonizing strokes, sliding in and out, going deep and curling my finger, then pressing gently against her small bundle of nerves until she gasped and writhed from my touch. I moved my hand from her neck and nipped the slender curve, my moan vibrating along her skin as her sweet little body strained.

Fuck she was amazing. She made me feel alive, powerful, and completely fucking obsessed. Each touch, response, and sound she made imprinted on me to the point that I knew without a doubt that she was mine. All the games fell away, and all I saw was her.

I slipped two fingers in, stretching her slightly. Rubbing the silkiness of her come, I teased her clit with the heel of my hand until her hips moved in rhythm with me. I pumped deep inside her, curling my fingers until she shook in my arms.

Her breath increased in short pants, matching mine, and she rocked against me, meeting each thrust. Fingers spread against the glass, she remained open to me, and I took every advantage.

I cupped her breast through the fabric of her shirt, pinching her nipple then brushing my thumb over it. She whimpered, and I thrust my fingers faster. Her legs went weak, so I wrapped my arm around her and held her tight. When her hands left the window, she reached behind her until they threaded through my hair. She tugged on the strands as I increased the pressure against her clit.

“Damon,” she gasped. Her breathy, hoarse voice exploded through the small space as her body tightened around me.

A wave of possessiveness rose in me as her orgasm coated my fingers, and I wished more than anything that I could strip us both bare and push my cock deep inside her willing body.

I cupped her sweet pussy, reluctant to release her. But as our breathing regulated, I withdrew my hand. She cried out, and my eyes closed briefly, savoring the feel of her in my arms before it was time to let her go. When I was sure she could stand, I helped her pull up her jeans and did up the zipper and button. Then I turned her around, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she observed me with wide, desire-filled eyes.

No words would be good enough between us. Not then. If I said anything, it would ruin what had just happened. I adjusted myself so it wasn’t quite as painful, then took her hand and led her down the stairwell until we were at the first floor and the door that led to the hallway. We couldn’t leave simultaneously, not when she wanted to keep us a secret.

She let me go, and with one last glance over her shoulder, she pushed the door open and stepped through. I waited a few more seconds then did the same, going in the opposite direction.

I still had practice, and I would be late with how much time I’d spent coaxing Sky to fall apart in my arms. It was worth every second, and I wanted to do it again immediately.

Practice ran short due to the coach’s meetings, which worked for me. I planned to go home and eat, then maybe stop by Gia’s and apologize. I could swing by Skylar’s place after.

When I pulled into the driveway then the garage, I checked to see if Dad was home. Raelyn’s car was parked inside, but not his. I didn’t have a huge problem with Riley’s mom, but I had no desire to deal with my dad right then. I would be happy if he left me alone and let me graduate with minimal interaction.

I dumped my backpack in the mudroom and went into the kitchen. Louisa, our housekeeper, had modified hours since Raelyn had moved in last year. It was good, I guessed. Louisa was more like a mom to us, me more than Cole. I was glad she didn’t have to work all the time. From what Raelyn had told me, Louisa’s salary was the same, but she and my dad had thought that with a reduced workload—she only cooked anymore, and they’d hired a cleaning service—she could spend the rest of the time with her family. It was one of the only decent things my dad had done, so I didn’t cause any problems.

I yanked open the fridge and rummaged around, pulling out some enchiladas. My mouth watered. I was starving from practice. A door slammed, and I looked up as Shane walked in.

“What’s up?” I asked. “Phoenix with you?”

My cousins were over all the time. They ate with us along with their mom, who worked as an ER nurse. Aunt Cece was my mom’s sister.

“He’s at Monica’s house since her parents are out of town.”

“That a serious thing?” I doubted it.

Phoenix had the same perspective I did about dating. We didn’t do it. Shane was the anomaly, and I guessed Cole too. But I liked Riley. She’d proven herself, so that wasn’t too big a deal.

“Nah. Dish me some of that.”

I pulled out another plate, piled it high, then microwaved both. We sat at the island, scarfing down the food. Louisa was a fantastic cook, and I told her so often.

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