Page 6 of Deceptive Games
“That’s better, come back to me,” Skeeter growled in my ear, some of the panic simmering when I recognized his voice. “Are you with me?”
Reality soaked into me and I stopped fighting, giving into his touch as he fucked me a little harder.
“Skeet?” I choked out as I turned my head from the pillow, and he lifted himself off my back to drive into me harder and deeper, his hands moving to my waist.
“Whatever you were dreaming of, erase it. You’re only allowed to think about me,” he bit out, getting rougher as he tugged my ass up a little higher. When I didn’t reply, the sharp sting of his knife met my ass and I cried out. “Do you understand?”
“Get off me!” I snapped, attempting to roll away, but he didn’t let me.
His fingers threaded through my hair and forced my face back into the pillow, his other hand pressing down on my back to stop me from wriggling.
“No. I’m going to fuck you until the only nightmare in your head is me.”
His hips smacked against my ass, the cut burning from the contact as he railed me like a man possessed, and he only slowed when my body tightened around him as I came so hard that I was left sobbing.
His breath was hot on my neck as he laid over me, finishing inside me and sinking his teeth into my neck with a grunt. “Better?”
“Yeah,” I managed to get out, jerking as he slowly pumped in and out with his softening cock.
“Good. Now get the fuck up, put your bad bitch mask on for the day, and get over it.”
He pulled out and slapped his hand against my ass with a loud crack, making me hiss out a breath as the cut stung.
“Ouch, asshole.”
“Pain is good. Keeps you out of your head and focused on reality. I mean it though. Get up. I’ve got shit to do at the Shed, and you’re going to go and play pretend in your cushy mansion. I don’t have time to babysit you and your mental breakdown, so snap out of it.”
I glared over my shoulder at him, earning one in return, and my eyes dropped down his naked body to the smears of blood across his groin, hips, and stomach from the cut he’d given me.
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re a pain in my ass.Get up,” he gritted out, stalking from the room, and slamming the bathroom door behind him.
I cringed as I dragged myself out of bed, my body aching and my skin sticky with blood, sweat, and cum. I definitely needed ashower before I left, but I was under the impression that I wasn’t invited to join Skeeter, so I waited.
He barely looked at me when he emerged five minutes later, walking right past me for some clothes.
“You know,” Slash drawled as he appeared in the doorway, startling me. “I can never tell if you two are making up or fighting.”
“Fuck off,” Skeeter barked, snatching a shirt and throwing it at me. “And you, go and shower so you can leave.”
“Oh, fighting. My money’s on the walking gash,” Slash said cheerfully, and I flipped him off, not bothering to hide my naked body. He’d seen plenty of it last night.
“I’m starting to think you like me. You keep popping up wherever I am,” I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest when his eyes dropped to my tits.
“You’re everywhere like mold. It’s hard to avoid you. It’s hilarious that you think I like you though. Did you think we bonded over murder and mayhem last night?” he chuckled dryly, stepping closer and reaching a hand out to cup my chin, his thumb running along my bottom lip. “You’re a cum bucket and nothing more. You want me to like you, hmm? Then get on your knees and we can fake it for a few minutes. That’s all I’ll ever give you.”
“Why the fuck would I want you to like me?” I argued as I went to swat his hand away, but his fingers grabbed my wrist tightly to stop me.
“Because you’re pathetic. No one wants you, and you’re constantly seeking approval. I already know you’ll do anything to fit in, even murder,” he said in a dark voice, his fingers digging into my wrist hard enough to make me wince.
“Get your hands off her, she’s leaving,” Skeeter bit out, moving closer now that he had boxers on. Slash ignored him, therough material of his jeans brushing against my thigh as his lips kicked up into a smirk.
“You don’t even mind when we treat you like shit. As long as we’re using you, you think you’re important. I could come in my own hand and it wouldn’t feel any different. You think your mouth is that good?” He released my wrist and gripped my jaw hard, his eyes narrowing when I fought not to pull away from the pain. “You’re not as tough as you think you are, Donovan. You’ll realize that one day when it’s too late.”
He shoved me back and I tried to act unaffected, but it fucking hurt.
Skeeter’s fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck and tugged me back towards him, his patience gone. “I won’t tell you again. Get in the shower and leave.”
