My Brother's Worst Enemy Craves Me

4

Chapter 4

Skye's pov

He knew my name?

"You knew my—" I started.

His finger thrust inside me.

My mouth dropped open. The gasp that came out of me was so sharp it echoed off every wall of the tiny elevator.

"You knew me‚" I choked out‚ my nails clawing into his suit jacket. "This whole time you pretended—"

He curled his finger.

"Ahh— oh God—" My knees buckled and he slammed his body harder against mine‚ pinning me to the wall‚ keeping me upright.

"Still talking?" he murmured against my ear.

"You— you have no right to— nngh—"

He pulled out slowly. Pushed back in. Deeper.

"Stop‚" I gasped. "Please stop."

"You sure about that?" He thrust again‚ slow and deliberate‚ and my hips rolled forward to meet him before I could stop them. "Because your body's telling me something very different."

"I mean it. I don't want— ah— I don't—"

"You don't want what?" Another thrust. Deeper. My back arched off the wall and a moan spilled from my lips that made a liar out of everything I'd just said. "You don't want my fingers inside this pretty little p***y?"

"No—"

"Then why are you grinding against my hand‚ Skye?"

I was. God help me‚ I was. My hips were rocking into him on their own‚ chasing every thrust‚ and I couldn't make them stop no matter how hard I tried.

"I'm not— that's not— oh God—"

His mouth clamped over my n****e and I cried out so loud my own voice startled me. He sucked hard‚ tongue swirling‚ teeth grazing the peak‚ and his finger drove into me at the same rhythm. His free hand grabbed my other breast and squeezed rough and possessive‚ kneading the flesh‚ his thumb rolling hard over the stiff n****e.

"Stop— please— you can't just—"

He released my n****e with a wet pop. "Can't what?"

"Can't do this to me—"

"Doing what?" He bit down gently on my other n****e and thrust his finger deep at the same time. "This?"

"Yes! That! Oh f**k— I didn't— I didn't say you could—"

"Your p***y's soaking my hand and you're telling me I can't?" He looked up at me from my breast‚ lips swollen‚ eyes black. "Pick one‚ Skye."

"I hate you‚" I whimpered‚ even as my fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him closer.

"I know you do." He sucked my n****e back into his mouth and I moaned — loud‚ broken‚ shameless. My hips ground down against his palm and the friction against my c**t made my vision blur.

He added a second finger.

"Ah— wait— wait‚ that's— it's too much—"

"Take it."

"I can't— it hurts—"

"It doesn't hurt." He pushed both fingers deep and curled them against a spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids. "Does it?"

"N—no‚" I sobbed‚ because he was right. It didn't hurt. It felt so good I wanted to scream and that was so much worse. "But I don't want this."

"No?" He pumped both fingers in and out‚ slow and wet‚ and my walls clenched around him so tight we both felt it. "Then push me away."

I didn't push him away.

"That's what I thought." His mouth moved to my neck‚ lips dragging hot and open against my pulse. "Knew you'd feel like this. Tight. Wet. f*****g perfect."

I arched my hips.

"Knew you'd taste sweet too." He squeezed my breast hard‚ thumb rolling my n****e. "Was right about that."

"Please—" My voice cracked into a moan as his pace picked up. Faster. Rougher. The wet sounds of his fingers inside me filled the elevator and I wanted to die from the shame of it but my hips kept chasing him‚ kept grinding‚ kept begging for more even while my mouth said the opposite.

"Please what? Please stop?" He thrust deep. "Or please don't stop?"

"I don't know!" I cried out‚ pulling his hair so hard he groaned against my skin. "I don't know‚ I don't know—"

"Yes you do." His thumb found my c**t and pressed hard and my whole body jerked like I'd been electrocuted. "Say it."

"I can't—"

"Say it‚ Skye."

"Don't stop‚" I sobbed. The words tore out of me like a confession dragged out under torture. "God help me‚ don't stop."

"Good girl."

His fingers pumped faster. His thumb circled my c**t in tight‚ merciless strokes. His mouth found my breast again‚ sucking and biting‚ and his hand kneaded the other one roughly‚ and everything was happening at once — his fingers‚ his mouth‚ his hands‚ the sounds‚ the heat‚ the shame — all of it crashing together into a wave that was building so fast I couldn't breathe.

"Oh God— something's happening— I'm—"

"I can feel it. You're squeezing me so tight."

"I can't hold it— I'm going to—"

"Are you going to come on my fingers‚ Skye?"

"Yes— yes— please— I'm right there—"

He pulled out.

Everything. Both fingers. Gone.

"NO!" The word ripped out of me raw and desperate. My hips bucked against nothing. My walls clenched around emptiness. The orgasm that had been right there‚ right at the peak‚ dissolved into a throbbing‚ aching void that pulsed between my legs like a heartbeat with nowhere to go.

"Why did you— bring them back— please—"

He stepped back.

I almost fell. My legs were shaking so badly I had to press my palms flat against the wall behind me just to stay standing. I stared at him‚ wrecked‚ panting‚ my bra shoved above my breasts‚ my skirt bunched at my hips‚ tears slipping through my mascara‚ and he looked like he'd just finished reading a quarterly report.

He raised his hand. Both fingers glistening. He slid them into his mouth slowly‚ his eyes locked on mine‚ tongue dragging along each one.

"Just as sweet as I knew you'd be."

He straightened his tie‚ smoothing it down with slow‚ precise movements‚ then adjusted his cuffs like nothing had just happened‚ like he hadn’t just undone me completely.

“Fix yourself.”

My throat tightened. “You can’t— you can’t just—”

“Now‚ Skye.”

I pulled my bra back into place‚ fingers trembling so badly I could barely hook it properly‚ then started on my blouse‚ fumbling with the buttons‚ missing one‚ going back‚ trying again‚ then tugged my skirt down. Everything felt wrong. Crooked. Twisted.

But I did it anyway.

I fixed myself while he stood there watching‚ his gaze detached‚ like I was nothing more than something out of place that needed to be straightened.

The elevator dinged.

The doors slid open to the harsh brightness of the parking garage. Not his office. Not the floor where I was supposed to start working. The parking garage.

"Get out."

"The job‚" I said‚ my voice wrecked. "You said— you said if I—"

He looked at me one last time. His eyes traced down my body and back up. Cold. Flat. Empty.

"Your services are no longer required. You're dismissed."