4. ~Skylar~

Well, this was a shit-fest.

The design part of my program had been the only thing getting me through all the rest, and now I'd found out over the last few days that it included a collaborative effort, a ton of teamwork, basically. I guess it made sense for the nature of the subject matter and all that.

At the institute, I'd been very fortunate to be given free rein to bring my own vision to life and I'd only had to work with one person—a game programmer, because that part of things wasn't my forte. And the person I'd been teamed up with, Halle Essen, had been great at understanding my creation and where I was going with things. She'd been the best.

This was not that.

As I made my way down the crowded corridors of students rushing around to their next classes or whatever the fuck, I shoved my hand through my hair, trying to contain my agitation at the whole thing. Nothing had been going to plan since I'd set foot in here at the start of the week.

I hadn't even been able to determine anything out of the ordinary, or more likely untoward or nefarious about the Thorn brothers, Caleb, and especially not Caspian King. The latter was completely squeaky clean. I'd found what I'd already known about Sebastian and Damien, about their father being killed in a car accident six years ago that had also claimed the lives of their traveling companions, those being Caspian's parents. I'd also discovered what my mom had alluded to when it came to Caleb. And it had been more brutal that I'd imagined. Seven years ago, he'd lost his older sister, Hayley, to suicide. He'd been fifteen at the time and she'd been twenty-one. She'd been on track to becoming the heiress to their hotel empire and then abruptly, she'd snuffed out her own life. There'd been no details at all as to what had led to that, nothing. Everything on these guys was locked up far too tightly. Even with the power of the program I had at my disposal, I'd basically turned up nothing that could warrant their interest in Onyx, or the fact that they were even aware of that name.

I'd considered reaching out to Jeremy personally and asking him to look into it for me, but it was too much of a risk that he'd alert my dad to the ask. And, jeez, my dad would jump on that, big time, if he found out I was looking into these guys. He'd know something was up, for sure.

Well, the one positive thing in all this pile of crap was that nothing had actually escalated or come of the whole Sebastian and Caleb thing, or those stupid text messages. No more contact had been made. I'd even seen Sebastian sitting in a couple of the classes we shared and he hadn't even looked my way once. His psychotic older brother hadn't come near me either.

It was all peaceful.

Too peaceful and you know it.

"Stop it," I groused to myself.

"Talking to yourself? Interesting," a voice sounded from right beside my ear suddenly.

Before I could even react, my wrist was snagged and I was jerked out of the corridor and pulled in through the emergency exit stairwell and shoved against it, the impact jarring me and slamming it closed at the same time.

I blinked in the muted light to see those amber eyes and that severe buzz cut right in my face.

"Sebastian," I breathed.

He smirked, then pushed his weight into me, effectively pinning me against the door with all that hard muscle.

His hand came up, grasping my throat firmly, but not enough to cut off my breathing. "Mmm, I love the way you just uttered my name, all breathy and fucking husky." He leaned in and breathed me in. "So it is your hair. The jasmine?"

"It's a special solution for the curls."

"I like it."

"Then I'll switch to one with a scent you don't like."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Vanilla."

"What?"

"I don't like vanilla. In any sense." His hand tightened around my throat and he looked me over, eating me up in my leather pants and open blue leather jacket with the embellishments and studs, dropping to my black scoop neck top and the layered silver chains of my necklace. "But you're not vanilla, are you, Skylar?" My jacket had been pushed half off my right shoulder in the scuffle and his gaze zoned in there. And then he peeled it away further to reveal part of my tattoo. A blue lotus flower and leaves that extended all the way down my upper outer arm. "Hmm, very nice." He traced his fingers over it gently and way too sensually, a rush of heat rolling through me and making me grit my teeth in a bid to force down the reaction. "So intricate. Yet edgy at the same time."

I jerked my shoulder and his fingers left it. "Why are you so fascinated by a tattoo? You're clearly no stranger to them," I said, gesturing with my eyes at the black roses and thorns all over his neck, all the way down his chest, of which a lot was visible, including the outline of the top of his abs in his white dress shirt only buttoned at the middle. He had a lighter shade of ripped blue jeans on this time, the same black leather jacket. And a gray hoodie beneath.

Up so close, I could smell his cologne again, something woodsy, like the refreshing scent of cedar. And then a clean, freshly-showered scent thrown into the appetizing mix.

Damn him.

There was something else that caught my attention too.

His eyes weren't exactly like his brother's after all. They were a similar amber shade, yes, but in Sebastian's there were golden flecks. That combined with the amber and the way they were drilling into mine had them looking like hellfire sparking beneath, threatening to rage at any moment.

I swallowed it down, feeling the growing tension that I couldn't allow to take hold any more than it already was, and I snapped, "If you have something to say and pulled me in here for a reason, get to it. I don't have time for this bullshit."

And I couldn't risk him being this close to me for much longer. He was… affecting me.

He was hot as hell, no doubt. But it took much more than that for me. And he had that in spades. I'd felt it during our first encounter in the parking lot. An otherworldly presence. So commanding and all-encompassing. The fucker had one hell of an allure about him, almost hypnotic really. There was something there just beneath the surface and the golden boy smile that he showed the rest of the city, something that called to me in a way I couldn't quite decipher. Actually, a way I couldn't let myself decipher, because I knew, I just knew, that what it was calling to was that former me, the one I was trying so hard to deny breath.

"You have the next two hours free between classes."

"So you're stalking me now? Got a hold of my schedule?"

"Stalking is such a negative term. Let's just say I'm taking an interest."

Spoken like a psychopath in the making.

Or, maybe he was already there.

"I don't want your interest."

"That's non-negotiable."

"Get the fuck off me," I spat, ripping his hand from my throat and making his eyes spark at the brutal force and swift moves I'd used to dislodge his grip so easily.

Dammit. He'd liked that too much.

He didn't put his hand back, but he didn't move his weight off me either.

"Move," I ordered.

"Not yet."

"Why?" I demanded. "Why did you just manhandle me and drag me in here?"

"You know why, Onyx."

I blew out a breath. "I thought we were done with this?"

"Because I've left you alone for the remainder of the week?"

Pretty much. "Yes."

"Maybe I was lulling you into a false sense of security so I could catch you off guard." He leaned in, his hot breath fanning over the side of my neck. "Or, maybe I was giving you time to come to your senses and forgo this ridiculous denial and attempt to be somebody you're not."

I scoffed. "You don't know who I am."

"I know more about you than you realize."

"I highly doubt that."

"You do, huh?"

I nodded. "You and Caleb obviously did your due diligence when word got out about the daughter of your mother's rival coming here to Luxe. You looked into me and thought you delved deep by pulling the name, Onyx. Now you want to use it to get under my skin. Intimidate me. Play with me. Whatever the hell."

"That's quite the theory you've got there."

"Well, here's the thing, whatever you think you know, however you've heard that name, I can assure you that I'm not it. Onyx is dead."

I jerked forward, pushing my weight into him so abruptly that it forced him back with ease. I extricated myself, then spun toward the door. "So, as you can see, there's nothing more to say where that's concerned. We're done here."

I'd barely even managed to grab the handle when his weight slammed into my back.

And then I felt cold metal at my throat.

I shot a look to my side to see him holding a flip knife there, just shy of piercing my skin.

"Are you crazy? There's a camera in here. Plus, anyone could burst through this door any second."

"Crazy? Hmm… perhaps. From certain perspectives. And don't worry yourself about the camera or the rest. No one will be bothering us."

He fisted his hand in my hair, wrenching my head back and forcing me to look at him. "You're not even shaking," he said, studying me intently. "No sign of fear whatsoever."

"Put the knife away and end this ridiculousness."

"Are you sure that's what you want me to do?"

Before I could answer, he slid the flat of the blade along my cheek, the cool metal skating across my skin, down my throat.

Fuck.

The threat of it, the sensual teasing strokes caused goosebumps in their wake. Not the bad kind either, which would've been better—and much easier. No, the stimulating kind, the kind that had a disconcerting tingling sensation erupting, that familiar dark need sparking.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't think beyond the sensations that I hadn't felt for a long time.

Those that made me feel alive.

Free.

Those that belonged to that version of me.

That dangerous and depraved me.

"Stop me," he spoke at my ear, his husky words rolling through me.

I couldn't.

I couldn't risk it.

That altercation with his brother had pushed me far enough as it was. Another taste of that violence, that power rush, and it could pull me back to the place I was still fighting to bury far in the past, something that was a work in progress, and really wasn't being made any easier by this bullshit.

And that was honestly only half of it.

He was calling to that need in me that hadn't been satiated in way too long.

And now, him doing this, it was such a sudden and shocking thing out of literally nowhere, that it was bringing it all surging to the surface without giving me a second to think, to be able to take a beat, snatch hold of it and shove it back down again.

He smirked when I didn't say a word. "Yeah, there it is. I fucking well knew it." He drew the blade down over my clavicle, to the tops of my breasts.

God.

"You're panting, beautiful."

"You're threatening me with a knife."

"That's not why. Like I said, it's not fear. It's something a lot more interesting, something deliciously twisted and depraved." He nipped at my ear. "Just. Like. You."

He trailed the knife along the bust of my shirt, back and forth, the threat of dipping beneath undeniably clear and fucking brazen.

"Son of a bitch," I gritted out, hating that my words came out all breathy and affected.

"Look at you trying to fight it. Trying to fool me and yourself into believing you're a good girl. Something mundane and not of special note, not worthy of attention from the likes of me and my boys." He nipped my ear again, then licked the spot right after, his tongue tracing a warm, wet path back and forth across my throat, even as his knife still teased me. "But you are, Skylar. You fucking are. I can feel it from you. And this pathetic denial, this holding back, isn't doing you any favors. Believe me, it'll just get a whole lot worse. I'll make sure of it."

Indignation, sexual frustration he was pushing to its limits, and a whole lot of rage I'd been holding at bay slammed into one another with mind-bending force, creating a cataclysm of an emotional reaction that burst out of me, shattering my good sense to fucking pieces.

I dislodged the knife from his grip with two quick moves, tossed it into the wall to my left where it embedded firmly, and then I snagged his wrist and spun him around.

As he jarred against the door, I fisted my free hand in his shirt, pinning him there and snarling in his fucking smarmy, know-it-all face.

His gaze darted to the knife I'd tossed into the wall, then to my fist in his shirt, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Impressive."

"You shouldn't be impressed, you fucking psycho!" I hissed, jerking him to me by my hold on him, then slamming him back against the wall.

"Psycho, yeah, now we're getting somewhere," he said, his pearly-white teeth baring in a part-smile, part-snarl. "You feel it from me, the same twisted thing that's in you. It's calling to you, isn't it? I can see it in your eyes, feel it all fucking over you. You want to tear it from me and haul it up against yours, have them fuck up each other in the sickest fucking ways until there's nothing left of either, just for the wicked thrill of basking in all that devastation."

Fuck.

His words… the way he was looking at me, his hellfire eyes blazing into me and threatening to decimate me down deep… it had my rage colliding with something just as dangerous and unhinged—animalistic passion.

The kind that knew no bounds.

The kind that ripped right through everything.

All reason. All sense of self-preservation.

All barriers fucking well down.

The next thing I knew, I was digging the fingers into his nape and jerking him down to me, forcing his mouth to mine.

The moment our lips collided, an explosion of passion detonated from both of us.

The kiss was hard, angry, desperate. All bruising lips and gnashing teeth.

A red-haze of need engulfed me and I was thrusting my tongue into his mouth. He met me right away, giving it right back to me and creating what could only be described as a violent ravaging. He fisted his hand in the back of my hair, trying to angle me in a dominant move, but I was there tugging at his short tufts of hair too, then digging my nails into his scalp.

"Fuck, woman," he growled, ripping his mouth from mine, a second before he grabbed my thighs and slammed me against him.

He spun us around and shoved me up against the wall right beside the knife.

He rolled his hips roughly, pulling a moan from me as I felt every hard inch of him grinding against my pussy through my leather pants.

I undulated against him, ramping up the friction, pleasure sparking everywhere, taking my body hostage in the most engulfing way, threatening to devastate every part of me.

A sexy throaty groan from him had my core clenching.

He was licking, sucking, and biting his way down my throat then.

"Shit," I choked, grasping his shoulders and grinding against him harder, teasing the hell out of his dick.

He pulled his mouth from ravishing my throat, then jerked down my shirt and one of the cups of my bra in the process, exposing the nipple. A dark chuckle sounded from him as a gasp escaped me. He teased the hard nub. "Mmm, begging for attention." He ripped the knife out of the wall and flipped it expertly in his hand, grinning at my surprise as he revealed his skill to me in that one move.

Then he hovered it near my right breast, dark intensity flaring in his gaze.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't look away as he teased it, coming closer and closer, just a fraction of an inch away from making contact and piercing my flesh. "But you don't want sweet and loving attention, do you? Nah, nothing so boring and vanilla for you, right?"

He nicked my nipple, a pearl of blood leaking, making me buck back against him as the harsh sting sent a zap of need straight to my core.

He swept two fingers over the blood, then jammed them into my mouth.

He slid them along my tongue, coating it with my own blood and making me taste it.

I just reacted, losing myself to everything he was inundating me with, and swirling my tongue around his digits, the delectable mix of his skin and my blood making me moan out, my eyes roll back in my head.

He snarled, then released my thighs, putting me down.

In the next second, he stuffed my throat with his fingers, then jerked down my pants and panties to my knees with his free hand.

I spluttered as he dragged his fingers through my folds, sharp sparks of intensity firing through me.

Over and over he did it.

Up and down. Slow and sensual.

My mouth wide open and taking a throat-fucking while I was slumped against the wall, my bare pussy exposed and being tormented by his devilish fingers… it had me beside myself.

I couldn't think.

I could barely breathe.

There was only sensation.

Only this fucked-up moment we were sharing.

I let loose, grabbing his wrist of his fingers in my mouth and forcing them deeper and harder, choking myself on them, getting off on the loss of control of it all, on the struggle, on succumbing to it, taking it all, and freaking him the fuck out at the same time, showing him just what I was made of, what he was trying to screw with.

"Jesus Christ," he grunted. "Yeah, that's it, let loose."

He thrust two fingers inside me in one sudden movement.

I jolted, my mouth stilling and he wrenched his fingers free, making me choke, his eyes hooding at the sight.

Then he grasped my jaw.

Hard. Painfully.

"I wanna watch you as you shatter all over my fingers. I wanna feel how hard this tight little cunt squeezes me, demanding more."

He twisted them inside me, forcing a cry from me, then wrenched them out and drove in to the hilt again.

A sadistic smirk twisted his lips as he had me writhing against the wall, spreading my thighs wider in desperation, humping his fucking fingers like a wild thing.

"Not enough, is it?"

"Fuck… you," I panted.

He chuckled, then released my jaw and demanded, "Keep your eyes on me, or I'll stop."

"I hate you."

"I'll take it."

"What?"

"It's a strong reaction. That'll do. For now."

Before I could summon the wherewithal or focus to question that cryptic response, he dove down and captured my bloodied nipple in his mouth. He sucked harshly, brutally, drawing more blood. Harder and harder like a merciless beast until it was slicked across his lips and the pain was burning into me in the most amazing way, colliding with his talented fingers now curling inside of me and stroking that sweet spot deep inside.

How had he—

It hit me in a blinding rush, ecstasy tearing through me and ripping me apart at the seams.

He slapped a hand to my mouth, muffling my screams as he continued pounding into me, taking me higher and higher.

His darkened eyes burning into mine the entire time just made it all the more intense. I couldn't look away, like he was pulling me into that hellfire swirling there in those amber pools and holding me there.

He bit down on my breast and sharp pain exploded through my sensitive flesh.

It took me to another high entirely and my animalistic shrieks as another orgasm hit—or the first one bleeding into another, I didn't even fucking know—sounded inhuman and were barely contained by the muffling of his palm against my mouth.

He eased up a little and let me ride my orgasm, then he slipped his fingers out, then held my gaze as he slid them into his mouth and made a show of licking up every last drop of my juices.

The fucking bastard knew just how erotic that was. Especially the satisfied sounds he made as he tasted me, making a real meal out of it.

"I hate you," I panted, as I fumbled to fix my pants and panties back into place.

Surprising me, he did it for me, then even righted my bra and shirt. "So, you've said. And I love the fire, beautiful."

He reached out and played with my curls for a few moments while I was utterly boneless and still recovering.

And then he leaned in and whispered at my ear. "Nice to officially meet you, Onyx."

Fuck.