Page 8 of Skulls and Lace


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"Better than yours," she growled back at me. "What was your plan? Steal her away so Cash could sic the sheriff on you? Send his dogs to hunt you down? Go back to the club that didn't want either of you?"

The truth of it burns, even in the here and now. But I didn’t flinch. "You don't get to decide what's best for us."

"Someone has to." Her voice dropped. "Since you're so fucking determined to destroy yourself."

"I chose the only family that ever wanted me."

Her laugh was cruel. "Family? The same family that branded you like cattle and let it get infected?"

"At least they don't pretend to be something they're not."

"And what am I pretendin' to be?" Her voice trembled when she asked this.

"Someone who wants me forme." The words tasted like ash. "Not just another broken thing you can fix to heal whatever your mother did to you."

Her palm cracked against my cheek before I even saw it coming. The slap echoed in the empty silo, sharp and final.

But I caught her wrist before she could pull away. Instincts, I guess. I held it between us like evidence. "You don't get to walk away from this," I told her in a low voice. "Not until we finish it."

"It was finished when you left," she whispered, but she didn't pull away.

For a heartbeat, we were suspended in that moment—her wrist in my hand, her eyes locked on mine, both of us breathing hard with things we couldn't take back.

Then we just… collided.

It was something out of a movie, I remember thinkin'. An uncontrollable moment of her mouth crashing against mine, her teeth scraped my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. I pushed her back against the silo wall, pinning her there with my hips.

She bit down on my lip, and I growled into her mouth, my hands already bunching the white fabric of her dress, pulling it up her thighs.

"I hate you," she gasped into my kiss, even as her fingers tore at my belt. "I fucking hate what you did."

"Show me," I challenged her, sliding my hand between her legs to find her already wet. "Show me how much you hate me."

She made a sound like she was breaking and shoved me back, just enough to create space. Then she was workin' my jeans open, yanking them down my hips with none of the tenderness we typically share.

I ripped her panties down her legs, the delicate fabric tearing in my hands.

"You left me," she accused, wrapping her hand around my cock, stroking hard enough to hurt. "You just walked away."

I silenced her with my mouth, pushing her harder against the wall. The silo was cold, but we were burning up. Her handtwisted around me, demanding, punishing as she jerked me off. I slid two fingers inside her, feeling her pussy clench around them.

"Fuck you," she breathed, even as she rocked against my hand. "Fuck you for making me want this."

I lifted her up, hands rough on her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her nails dug into my shoulders, breaking the skin, as I pushed her against the wall.

"Is this what you came for?" I asked, positioning myself at her entrance. "To remind yourself what it feels like to be fucked by a demon?"

"Shut up," she hissed, and then pulled me into her with her heels against my back.

I fucked her hard, without gentleness or restraint. She cried out, head falling back against the metal wall with a dull thud. Her white dress was bunched around her waist, already stained with dirt from the wall and my hands.

"This what you need?" I demanded, driving into her with each word. "To be fucked against a wall by someone who ruins everything he touches?"

"Yes," she gasped, her nails drawing blood from my shoulders. "Yes, goddammit."

We weren't making love. We were tearing each other apart.

Her teeth found my neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. I gripped her thighs tight enough to leave a bruise, holding her up as I pounded my cock into her.