Page 28 of Devil’s Night (The Shadows of Darkness Universe #3)

Chapter twenty-two

Shame On You

Katya

T he moment I try to rise, to reclaim even an inch of ground, Echo’s hand shoves me back down with unforgiving force. My spine hits the chair, breath stolen from my lungs as he looms over me, a storm barely leashed behind his eyes.

“All I do is use you, right?” he growls, his voice a sharp snarl that vibrates through my bones.

“Yes,” I snap, chin tilted high even as heat coils in my stomach, betraying me.

His smile is dangerous.

“Do you even know what using you looks like, Katya?” he hisses, my name dragged across his tongue like venom and silk. His body radiates heat, pulsing with a possessive fury that wraps around me like a vice. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to.

“Fuck you, Everett-”

His hand fists in my hair before I finish the syllable.

He yanks me up with a snarl and drags me across the room, forcing me forward until my cheek smashes against the cold glass wall of the interrogation room.

I scream, banging my fists against it, but his grip only tightens, one hand at the nape of my neck, the other pinning my hips back, holding me in place like I weigh nothing.

“There’s no one in there, Katya,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low, lethal. “No cameras. No guards. No one watching but you and me. I have the only key to this room.”

His hips press into me, and I feel it, hard and unforgiving, grinding against my ass with ruthless intent. My skin ignites beneath his touch, betrayal and desire crashing in my veins like thunder.

“No,” I breathe. “No, I won’t feed into this.”

“Yes, you will,” he growls. “Because you always do. Because you’re mine, Katya. Mine to keep. Mine to ruin. Mine to fuck. Mine to remember. And tonight, I’m going to remind you just how real it was.”

He drags my pants down with one hand, the other still anchoring me by the throat. My breath shudders, thighs clenching, but it’s too late, he already feels it.

His fingers slide between my legs and pause.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, a dark chuckle curling in his throat. “So tell me, why the fuck did you really ask to be alone with me?”

I don’t answer. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

He pinches my clit hard enough to make my knees buckle, my mouth opening in a cry I hate him for.

“Why, Katya?” he snarls, his lips right against my ear, fingers teasing, threatening, claiming.

My eyes sting, but I keep them closed. I grit my teeth.

“Fuck you.”

His laugh is pure sin, and his hand...merciless.

And I already know I’ve lost. Again.

His fingers don’t stop. They stroke through my folds like he’s savoring every slick inch, like he already knows how far gone I am.

The pressure is deliberate, taunting and possessive, familiar.

My thighs twitch as he teases my entrance, not pushing in, just circling, dragging my arousal across swollen flesh like he wants to see how much I can take before I break.

“You know what I know,” Echo growls behind me, his voice molten and vicious, each word pressed hot against the back of my neck.

“You know this wasn’t some goddamn act. You felt it, every time I touched you, every time you screamed my name.

You knew I had to hurt you to keep Roman from putting a bullet between your eyes.

You know the reason you asked to be alone with me is because you wanted this, you wanted me. All of me. Just like this.”

I shake my head, but it’s barely a twitch.

My body’s too busy reacting to him, too far gone to pretend otherwise.

Heat blooms in my stomach, rising fast. I can feel myself getting wetter, can hear it now as his fingers glide between my folds, slick and needy.

My body wants him. Desperately. My mind is screaming. My pride is dying.

“You wanted me to find out how fucking wet you are for me,” he snarls, “even while you’re spitting hate through your teeth.”

Then I hear it.

The buckle. The belt sliding free.

My breath catches.

“Tell me you want me,” he commands, voice dropping to something primal. “Tell me, right now.”

“I won’t-” I snap, but my voice wavers. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop any of this.

His hand fists my hair. The other yanks my hips back with brutal precision, and then he slams into me.

A strangled scream escapes my lips as I lurch forward, my chest slamming into the glass wall. My hands fly up, palms slapping against the cold pane to keep from falling. My breath fogs the surface instantly, ragged and hot, while his cock stretches me wide, thick and pulsing and deep.

He doesn’t ease into it.

He pounds into me from the start, ruthless and merciless, grinding his hips against mine with each thrust like he’s trying to claim every inch of space inside me. My body jerks with every impact, my breasts pressed tight to the glass, thighs shaking as pleasure slams through me, raw and furious.

His grip is bruising on my hips. He’s holding me in place like he owns me.

Maybe he does.

“Tell me you need me,” he growls, his voice dripping with rage and want. His hand slips between my thighs again, finding my clit and circling it with maddening, punishing speed. My back arches, my mouth falls open, but I bite back the moan.

“N-No,” I whisper, but my body’s screaming something else entirely.

“Say it,” he snarls, dragging his hand up my stomach to wrap around my throat. “Fucking say it, Katya.”

He pulls me upright against him, my back to his chest, still buried deep inside me. His free hand moves up to grip my jaw, forcing my head to turn, to look at our reflection in the glass, me bent, fucked, undone.

“I’m in your blood,” he whispers into my ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. “I’m in your fucking soul. You can hate me all you want. You can scream, curse, claw, but you need me. You’ll never stop needing me.”

Tears sting my eyes, fury and arousal warring inside me until I don’t know which one will destroy me first. Every thrust sends sparks shooting through my veins. Every slap of his skin against mine pushes me closer to the edge.

I hate him. I crave him. I’m lost.

And worst of all?

I don’t want him to stop.

I can barely breathe from the force of him pounding into me. Each thrust punches into me with punishing rhythm, and all I can do is take it. My hands are splayed against the glass, breath fogging the surface, my body caught between pleasure and war.

“Tell me,” he groans, voice rasping with hunger. “Tell me you need me, Katya.”

My eyes flutter. My mouth falls open. The sound that slips out is pure surrender.

“I do…” I whisper, broken on a breath. “I do need you.”

His grip tightens around my throat like he’s drinking those words in, letting them root inside his skin. But I’m not finished.

“…but you betrayed me.”

The words hang in the air like a curse.

He hesitates. Just for a second. The rhythm of his thrusts stutters, his breath catching in my ear. And in that tiny pause, that flicker of vulnerability, I strike, jabbing my elbow hard into his ribs.

He gasps, stumbling back. His cock slips free, wet and twitching, and I hear the anger swell in his breath. But I’m already spinning, already diving for the pocket of his discarded pants. My fingers close around cold metal.

The key.

His fucking arrogance left it right there.

I lunge for the door.

“Katya!” he shouts, but he’s still fumbling with his pants, still stunned.

Slamming the interrogation room door shut with a deafening crack, I don’t hesitate. I shove the key into the lock, turn it hard, and trap him on the other side of the glass.

One breath. Two.

Then he’s there, raging.

Pounding on the window like a caged animal.

His eyes are wild, his jaw clenched, pants halfway zipped, his chest rising like he’s about to explode. His fists slam into the glass, the sound thunderous.

“Katya! Open the fucking door!”

I don’t move. I just stare. He looks feral, hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned, cock still tenting his waistband. And for once, I have the power.

My gaze drops to the control panel beside the mirror. The mic blinks red, waiting.

Pressing the button, I lean in, whispering, soft and cruel.

Lean in.

“It’s just business.”

The effect is instant.

His face shatters.

The arrogance drains from him, his mouth parting, his fists falling limp against the glass. His eyes, those fucking eyes, go wide like I just ripped something out of him.

Good.

Let it hurt.

Turning, my legs still shake, my thighs still slick with him, my pulse crashing beneath my skin. I feel everything, ache, heat, triumph, heartbreak, and it all burns like fire as I move toward the exit.

Each step is heavier than the last, but I don’t stop.

At the door, I slip the key in, twist it twice, and feel the bolt release.

Cool air rushes in.

I pause for half a second.

Then I walk out, leaving the monster exactly where he belongs. Behind glass, broken and alone.