Chapter 25.

Skye watched eagerly as Brock stripped off his T-shirt, revealing a thickly muscled chest and hard, flat abs. "Oh," she licked her lips eagerly, staring as he stooped to remove his boots, "this is gonna be so good."

"Yes it will," he promised darkly, and she reached to grab his arm, pulling him towards her.

"Please, please kiss me," Skye begged. She was desperate to feel his skin against hers, and was delighted when he obliged, sitting down on the bed beside her and gathering her into his arms, knotting both hands in her hair and pressing her back against the pillows to kiss her roughly. He wasn't gentle, his hands pulling at her hair, his teeth biting hard at her lips, but Skye didn't protest. She moaned frantically, trying to press more of herself against him, running her hands over his broad shoulders. He brought one hand down and pinched cruelly at her nipple, but Skye only moaned against his mouth again and shuddered.

"I'm gonna really enjoy this," Brock said, pulling his head back to look at her, and Skye smiled, uncaring of the blood on her lip, pleased that he wanted her. She ran her hand down his thickly muscled chest and plucked at his belt buckle.

"Take it off," she asked, and he smiled cruelly.

"Sure, sweet thing. This is all for you," and he pressed her hand against his arousal, thick and hard beneath his cargo pants.

"Ohh," Skye let out a gasp of delight. "Yes, please, please give it to me! Brock, please, I need you!" The longer he delayed, the more she wanted. Her skin was tingling, sweat breaking out despite the coolness of the fan. Her heart beat faster as he stood and unfastened his belt.

The room seemed suddenly brighter for an instant, and Brock paused. Then he strode across to the window and looked out.

"Brock?" Skye asked in a small, desperate voice. "Please – don't you want me? I need you so much…"

He pulled something out of his pocket and put it to his ear. "Rollins. Report. Is that lightning?"

"A storm doesn't matter, it'll be outside – just close the window," Skye pleaded, getting up and crossing to stand beside him. Brock looked down at her with an expression something like regret on his face.

"Fucking hell," he muttered. "How the hell did they get out of London so fast? You say Barratt never even made it to the lab? Shit." He looked out of the window, and Skye looked too, seeing lightning flashing in the distance. "Fuck. They've called in heavy-duty reinforcements. I thought he was still on Asgard?"

Skye couldn't hear who he was talking through to the earpiece, and she didn't care. She ran her hands over Brock's chest, leaning in to kiss at his nipples. He grabbed her hair hard, pulling her head back, still listening through the earpiece, and then sighed.

"We're gonna have to bug out. We've got a few minutes at best." He hesitated, looking regretfully at Skye again. "Yeah, yeah, I'll leave her behind. She should keep them busy for a while anyway."

"No!" Skye begged, realising he was talking about her. "Please! Brock, please don't leave me!"

He kissed her again, hard, his hands groping roughly at her breasts. "No time," he grunted then, and spun her around, tossing her on the bed.

"Yes…" Skye said, only to cry out in betrayal as he snapped a handcuff on one wrist, securing the other cuff onto the bedpost. "Brock! Please! I need you!"

"Sorry, sweet thing." He gave her a twisted little smile. "Save it for next time." And he was gone, grabbing up his boots and darting from the room without looking back.

Skye collapsed on the bed, sobbing. Feeling really terrible now, shaking and sweating. Her heart was pounding, and it was nothing to do with the lightning crashing ever closer. She ran her free hand down between her legs, touching herself, frantic to relieve the pressure building there.

And that was how Steve found her as he smashed the door down a few minutes later, lying on her back, hand between her legs, moaning Brock Rumlow's name.

O.M.G. How is Steve going to react to THAT?