Page 25 of Not Her Day to Die (Star-Crossed #2)

Shutting my eyes, I fall back on the bed.

Ignoring where we are.

Ignoring the attention.

Ignoring my anxiety and apprehension.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?” He is curling his fingers into me while his mouth replaces his thumb on my clit. “I’m going to make you as ready as I can.” His words vibrate against me before rumbling out around us through the static speakers.

It does feel good.

He hums again as I moan and attempt to arch further into his touch.

He continues. Pressing, and stroking, and licking, and overwhelming my senses. Shooting pleasure out across my nerves, a live wire.

Even as he works me over, I can tell he is cognizant of the crowd. It is in the way his body wraps over mine, in the way he keeps me covered as best he can, in the way he hums over my moans. He is building this moment out for just the two of us, offering the bare minimum to the onlookers .

“I need to add another now.”

This time, there is resistance to the intrusion, but his hand on my cunt holds me in place. I let out the smallest whimper.

“It’s okay, you can handle this,” Darius promises soothingly, as he pushes another finger inside. “Just like that, look at you.”

With three I am too full, but I don’t argue. His mouth on my clit is quickly overshadowing the initial discomfort.

He is gathering all of me into this moment, tying me up so incredibly tight, further and further he goes. It is almost too much.

Nearly unbearable.

And just as I am about to beg for him to finish me, he’s expanding his fingers, stretching me further.

“I’m so sorry, Sunday, but I need to make you ready. I don’t want to hurt you.”

This time I can’t contain the loud whimper of distress, but I don’t tell him to stop. If Darius is doing this, I trust him. I know he isn’t trying to hurt me.

“Just like that, there you go, you’re doing so well.” His teeth scrape my clit, but his fingers are still, unmoving.

Wriggling against his hold, they shift a bit inside and I hiss.

“Just let me stretch you, you’re nearly there.”

Nearly there?

For the first time since this started, I come to the realization—while I have felt it, I have never seen Darius’s cock.

Before the thought can cause my concern to surge, he presses the harsh metal of his piercing to my clit and hums, vibrating the piercing in an addictive manner. Squirming, I attempt to contain myself, but breathy pants leave me as shockwaves strike out across my nerves.

Just as I am about to crash and fall and spill over, Darius stills .

My eyes flash open.

It is a mistake.

Far above I can see through the glass of the room I was in before. I can make out figures of those watching us.

A desperate screech worms its way out of my throat. But then Darius is moving up the bed, making his way on top of me, protecting me, covering me.

Blocking out my vision of the evils that lie outside of our little bubble.

“Focus on me, Wildflower. Just me,” he murmurs, his expression is soft, loving, but there is a fierce possessiveness in the clenching of his jaw.

His lips are centimeters above mine and my attention snaps to them before finding his eyes again.

He smiles, but only for a single instant, and then he is pushing forward.

So caught up in the outside distractions, I did not realize that he had shed his boxers until this moment.

Until his cock presses into me, perfectly aligned.

Until it stretches past the point of comfort.

“Darius,” I gasp. I want to tell him to stop.

It hurts. I can’t do this.

Even without seeing it, I can tell it’s going to be too much, that even though he stretched me, prepared me, I’m not nearly ready.

Darius, sensing my anxiety and discomfort, withdraws entirely. Readjusting to his knees he reaches above us, grabbing hold of an item on the table next to us.

“This will help.” He flashes me the bottle of lube before unsealing, opening it, and squeezing some into his empty hand.

I follow his movements in a trance. Leaning up a bit, I watch as he lathers the lube up and down along the length of his cock .

And I take it in. The cock which is threatening to split me in two. While it is nearly the same length as Axel’s, it is much girthier.

Boos chime through the darkness around us and I jolt, my attention flashing around the room.

“Eyes on me,” Darius growls. “Stay with me Sunday.”

Jumping back to him, I extend my fingers tentatively and touch the tip of his cock.

Darius hisses. “Fuck, just the smallest of–” He cuts himself off, his jaw ticking. “It’s time, Sunday. This will help, I promise. Can you trust me?”

Instead of answering, I fall back fully to the bed and open my legs further for him. This time I know better than to look above.

“Give us a fucking show!” echoes around us.

Darius repositions, his cock at my entrance, his eyes find mine.

They are sad, disheveled, swirling in terror and lust.

I jerk my head. All at once, I mouth.

One of Darius’s hands finds my clit, the other my hip bone.

He keeps his attention on me as he plunges as hard as he can into me.

The scream that leaves my lips is a mixture of shock, pain, and crippling hedonism. He has extended and stretched and plied me apart.

“Don’t stop!” echoes around us.

My eyes are watering as I incline my head to Darius, as I open my legs further for him.

Darius keeps up his ministrations on my clit as he accepts what we must do. What he must do.

The lube has allowed him into my body, but nothing more, nothing less. He has to work himself in and out, has to continuously stretch and expand me. And every time he pauses, I can feel as my muscles tense attempting to go back to where they wish to be .

It takes time, but eventually, my body accepts him much easier, and I find myself bucking up into him. Enjoying every thrust.

“Darius,” I mewl as he curves upwards hitting a new spot inside of me. “There, please, there,” I beg.

“Fuck, Wildflower. What are you doing to me?” He continues to grind into me. Into the same spot over and over again.

Each time he hits it, it is pure bliss, as if I am nearly floating.

Each time he falls away, it is as if a sack of bricks are landing across me. Weighing me down, scratching painfully into my skin.

He is giving and taking and making each second feel eternal.

It is addictive, heady, overwhelming. And before I can even grasp what is happening, how much time has passed, that we are still very much in the center of a stage, my body coils and springs out on its own. My muscles spasm as I arch off the bed.

“ Sunday .” My name leaving his lips is a reverent whisper.

Darius is nearly crying as he comes deep inside me.

I can’t tell if it is from emotion or from the fact of what we were forced to do.

“I love you, Sunday. I’m so sorry I have waited lifetimes to tell you.

Maybe this is my karma for being so stubborn. ”

The purple strand between us is steadier now, solidified. A connection that speaks to our souls.

My hand finds his jaw, stroking his skin there. I open my mouth to speak.

Cheering causes me to twitch back and pause.

I attempt to convey with my eyes what he means to me, how even in this disgusting atmosphere our connection kept me sane. How it was easy to block out the repulsive environment with him.

But then hands are grabbing on his shoulders, ripping him out and off of me. I wince at the pain of our separation.

His absence has left me empty. Devoid .

“Let me go!” Darius yells. He swings attempting to fight them off. It’s another goon. A faceless man in an overpriced suit. “Let me stay with her longer.”

“Settle down, son! You’ll be back out here soon enough. And the guests have even voted on what you will be doing to her next. I’ll keep it a surprise but suffice it to say, they want you to stretch her past her limits. Sunday, you will need to prepare for this next round.”

Horror fills my stomach, spreads in waves across my skin.

It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

But is it? I promised Darius I wouldn’t hate him, and I won’t. No matter what he is forced to do. But if he is made to hurt me, will he be able to live with himself? Can I pretend well enough to enjoy it?

This wasn’t how I wanted to be with Darius for the first time, but he was gentle, kind.

Because he was allowed to be.

Darius’s eyes meet mine one last time before he is dragged off the stage and away.

But I will always remember the haunting remorse in their depths, the terror.

And I know, with certainty, Darius won’t live with himself for it.

Perhaps Sterling did this to punish me, but ultimately, it was to break Darius.

To force Darius to become the evil he despises.