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He's warm, chasing away the cold in me, but it’s not enough. I know he can give me more, and he’s going to. I want everything he can give me—the passion, the anger, the fear. I can’t even begin to unpack the implications of what we just went through together with him rescuing me from Jovich’s betrayal, and that’s saying nothing of the fact that we just killed a man together.
My head is dizzy with all the thoughts trying to fight for importance, but only one thought rises above it all, and it’s barely a thought so much as an intrinsic need.
More.
I’m vaguely aware that we’re moving, and then the bed is pressing against the backs of my knees, and I tumble onto it. Remy falls above me, his strong arms bridging the gap so his weight doesn't touch me. But I need his warmth. I need him to cover me, to consume me.
I reach around his back and pulled him toward me. My lips fall free of his as he pulls away enough to look at me, breathless. The hand that isn't supporting his weight touches my cheek, swirling something inside of me. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." I breathe the word like a prayer, and Remy obliges, covering me with his body so that we’re sandwiched together. His skin against my breasts has my nipples tightening with need, and I can feel a similar need coming from him, straining through his boxers. "Please. Fuck me, Remy."
I don't realize I’ve said it out loud until he pulls away and I see the curve of his lips as he tears his belt off and tugs his pants and boxers to the ground all at once, letting his erection spring free. I feel my entire body quiver as I take him in, so big and so hard. He doesn’t let me look long, because then he’s pulling my shorts down, taking my already-wet panties with them. We've gotten so close to this, to skin on skin, and every time we've been interrupted. Tonight, I’m not letting him stop. I won’t give him the chance.
Remy growls as I lift my hips, brushing against him, but he doesn’t let me drop down again. His hand catches me beneath my thigh, hiking my legs around his waist so that he can leverage me closer to him.
He takes control of my mouth again, kisses my lips, my neck, my breasts, running a hand over every inch of me. I’m ready for him, every nerve inside of me screaming for his touch— even the parts that ache. He avoids the bandages from Slick's knife, snaking his way down my navel, pushing away from me enough that he can continue peppering his kisses along my thigh. His breath ghosts over my center, and his eyes flick to mine. He must find whatever he’s seeking with that look, because he smirks and then his fingers land right over my already-swollen clit. There’s no fumbling, no adjusting—he just finds the part of me that’s aching for his touch.
The breath I draw in is sharp, full of excitement even to my own ears. His name rolls off my lips as he strokes a finger away from that delicate bud and down the length of my slit, like he’s seeing how badly I want him before plunging a finger inside of me. My entire body clenches with the need for more, and he gives it to me, adding another finger that strokes every last fold inside of me, and then another until I’m surely coating his hands with the proof of my need. But it isn't enough, and my desperate moaning must make that clear, because I feel his fingers move away, and before I've even had a chance to lament my disappointment, they’re replaced by his warm breath between my thighs.
I draw in a breath of my own that comes out like a gasp. As if he’s been waiting on some sort of approval, Remy presses his tongue to the same place. He teases it over me while he finds a rhythm he likes, circling me with his tongue until I’m clutching the sheets, screaming his name as he stokes the fire he'd built in me until it explodes into an epic orgasm. It comes on fast and hard, the same way the adrenaline did. But it doesn’t drop me, picking me up and throwing me back down the way it does when I bring myself to relief.
He continues through it, and then before I’ve even stopped pulsing with it, he slides into me.
I accept every inch he offers, the desire starting to ripple all over again as his warmth stretches my insides, stroking a place deep inside of me, soothing an ache I’ve never realized existed. He kisses me back as feverishly as I kiss him, and though I’ve just come apart against his tongue, my need for him is urgent. With every movement, my fingers brush against his back, feeling his muscles sliding under my fingertips until his pace reaches a crescendo. The heat is starting to build in my belly again, so I plant my hands on his ass and dig my nails in, holding him tight as he thrusts into me over and over again. We fit so good together, him filling me so completely that I can’t even think with him inside me, and I love it.
He pushes in one last time before he finds his own release, a hand on my hip gripping me for dear life. I press my hips up and tilt myself against him, the friction against my sensitive clit sending me over the edge in his wake.
He's still careful not to put any weight on me as he falls onto the bed and lays next to me, his arms circling me, loosely enough that they don’t feel like a cage, but tightly enough that I feel safe. I’m still panting when I roll over to face him, my chin on his chest. He watches me for a moment, and then kisses me again... softer, slower, deeper.
When he pulls away, I sigh and lay there a moment with my eyes closed, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. I’ve never done this… never cuddled with someone after that. It’s oddly vulnerable, less warm and more uncomfortable.
A cold chill creeps slowly over me, stealing the afterglow as I open my eyes and notice the red spots that paint his chest where blood seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt. I stifle whatever noise is trying to claw its way out of me and then sit up gingerly, taking him in.
He’s still smiling a little, though he watches me with growing concern as I stare at him. Remy is exquisite. His body, unfurled in all its glory, is laid out on the bed without a care in the world. His thick muscles look like they've been carved by the gods for man to have something to aspire to, and the way his chest rises and falls is so gentle... normal.
But the light streaks of red that cover his chest, his tight abs, his neck... that isn't normal.
And they’re in places he couldn't have touched on himself.
My heart hammers as I realize I left those marks on him, and when I look down at my own palms and see the red on them, everything around me falls away.
I feel myself falling through the sky. My breath seems to have escaped my lungs, and I’m not sure my tongue is still there either because when I try to speak, the word congeals in my mouth.
I try again, and this time, a sound comes out. "Remy?"
I’m vaguely aware of him reaching out to me, but it’s too late. I’m consumed by the panic, headed for a void so deep it looks like nothing can escape it, a pitch-black nothing waiting below as I hurtle head-first into darkness.
Chapter thirty-five
Claire
As the high of the orgasm fades, reality comes thundering back to me. One minute, I’m high on adrenaline and euphoria, and the next, the corners are peeling back to expose the reality of what I just did.
I killed someone. The panic holds the air in my lungs hostage, making it hard to breathe.
And then I fucked my best friend’s brother before the blood on our hands even had a chance to dry. My skin burns, like it’s stretched too tight.
It’s wrong. I think Remy is saying something, but I can’t hear anything. The world has taken on a sudden silence, like all sound has just been sucked out of it.
