Page 56 of Sin Like the Devil

“I don’t want to take what I’m given.” My voice drops lower as mania turns to blood-laced desire. “I want to take what I want.”

Raine hesitates, silently taking in the details he can sense beyond his non-existent line of sight. I wonder if the drugs in his veins feel like the poisonous sickness in mine. If we’d be here, together, without either of those things drawing us together.

“What do you want?” he asks breathily.

Salvation. Plain and simple. No matter the pain I must inflict to reach that ethereal paradise, beyond the demons dragging me back to reality every goddamn time.

“The same as you.” Hand trembling, I slide the glasses from his face to reveal his pinprick pupils. “To feel alive.”

His throat undulates. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

“Alive?”

Raine’s habitual smirk reveals itself. “You’re talking to a self-proclaimed junkie, babe. We shoot up to feel everything… Or nothing at all.”

Tossing his glasses aside, I close the final gap between us. My heartbeat roars in my ears as I grab a handful of the loose grey t-shirt he wears over his ripped jeans and drag him closer, until our chests slam together with an audible thwack.

“Then feel something with me.”

Raine’s plump lips part on a sharp inhale. I could gaze into the molten caramel depths of his distant eyes all day long, not caring for a single second that he’ll never be able to gaze back. I exist in his mind. That’s a far greater privilege than many get.

Need overwhelms me. Need to be loved. To be wanted. To exist for someone in a far greater capacity than their dealer or destroyer. I want Raine to see me for the girl I used to be, not the girl I am now.

My mouth slants over his, sealing our twisted exchange with a hard, painful kiss. Eyes closing, I join him in the blackness. Our lips collide like two gamblers engaged in a ruthless battle of Russian roulette.

It doesn’t take long for Raine to respond and move his mouth against mine. My breathing falters with the violent onslaught of his lips attacking mine. He’s far too fucking good at this. One hand moves to clasp my hip as the other rises, searching blindly until he cups the back of my head.

The soft growl in the back of his throat causes warmth to flood my throbbing core. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, searching for a silent commitment to our shared need for an escape. I don’t care if he’s high and I’m on the verge of a manic meltdown.

I need his tongue.

His touch.

A reason to exist.

Dragging a hand over the rough scruff on his face, I clutch his chin and deepen the kiss. I want to suck the used oxygen from his lungs and let it poison my airways. Then he can offer his friends the victory of my death, and perhaps, I’ll finally know peace.

His hips rock forward, revealing the hard press of his erection as it grinds against my centre. A moan rumbles from my chest with the movement, and Raine thrusts again, making his intentions crystal fucking clear.

I’m a second from letting him fuck me on the treadmill to give me the release I crave when an ear-shattering alarm breaks out, causing us to jump apart. It’s excruciatingly loud, blaring relentlessly as the emergency lights begin to flash.

“What the hell is that noise?” Raine covers his ears.

“It’s the panic alarm,” I shout over the clamour, licking my now-swollen lips. “We’re supposed to get on the floor.”

“Screw that. We’re not done here.”

His hands find their way back to my head and hip. Fingers fisting in my sweat-drenched hair, he pulls hard until his lips meet mine with cataclysmic finality. Not even the painful shriek of the alarm can stop me from falling victim to his hot mouth on mine.

I know we only have a matter of minutes before a guard arrives to escort us to our rooms. That alarm signals the institute going into lockdown. An incident must be unfolding, but for the life of me, I couldn’t care less.

Releasing my hip, Raine’s fingertips search the stretchy material of my workout leggings. He’s moving lower, feeling a path to the heat that’s burning between my thighs. I gasp into his mouth as he cups my mound.

“Fuck, Rip. I can feel how soaking wet you are through your clothes.”

“You gonna do something about it?” I challenge.

Lips equally swollen, he grins at my boldness. “Like I’d ever leave a girl wanting.”

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