Page 42 of Ruined

“Would you let me cut you like them?” I ask, stepping forward.

She shakes as she wraps the towel around her body, I’m on her in a second. Ripping that towel back off her body, my hand cupping her large breast in my hand. She’s a tiny thing, much shorter than my six-foot-five frame. I like that her tits are spilling from my hand. I like that she’s thick and full.

“I want to cut you up and lick your body.” Squeezing her nipple, she tenses but has yet to utter a word. How odd, why hasn’t my pet spoken? Pinching and pulling her nipple harder, she still refuses to make a sound.

“What would make you scream, little girl?” I taunt, pressing my body against hers. She still refuses to speak, her head tilting up. “Why won’t you speak?” I snap.

Her eyes shift off me, refusing to acknowledge me. She’s making a big mistake. I don’t do well being ignored. It makes me outrageously angry and murderous.

That just won’t do. Pushing her against the counter, I shove my hand between us, rubbing her clit. Her eyes widen, frozen against my touch. “I’m going to find a way to make you scream…” I groan, shoving two fingers into her cunt. Something then shifts in her eyes. She’s still scared, but something else is there. She’s determined, but I’m not sure about what.

My fingers scissor her opening, and even with my hands gloved I can feel her wetness. She tightens around my fingers, taking less than thirty seconds before she cums all over my hand. I guess nothingmuchwas happening between them. What a sh—

“Fuck,” I grunt. My fingers slip from her body, and stepping back, I glance down at what she did. A pair of scissors sticks out from my side. Thankfully my tactical gear stopped most of the force. Only the tip penetrated my skin.

What the fuck?

Precum leaks from my cock. I’m on the verge of cumming. That is until she shoves at my chest, surprising the fuck out of me. She dodges around me, running into the room. Tipping my head up, I smile under my mask, yanking the scissors out and tossing them into the sink.

I give her a minute before I leave the bathroom and bedroom into the living room. My eyes track the girl, the sheet wrapped around her body as she stands next to a very pissed-off Jace.

“Ryker,” he growls.

“It’s not my fault you’re doing a shit job at protecting her,” I grunt. Ignoring their gaze, I head into the kitchen.

“Go get dressed,” he tells the girl. She shakes her head, glaring over at me. “Blake, go get dressed, he won’t do anything.” Jace peers down at the girl.

I chuckle, that’s a little too late. This girl—Blake, she came all over my hand. Lifting my gloved hand, I wave my fingers at her. She flinches, causing Jace to glance up at me.

“Ryker, knock it off!” He snaps, “Blake, he’s not going to do anything, go get dressed.”

Blake nods her head, watching me until she disappears into my bedroom closing the door. Jace storms towards me, “You son of a bitch!” he growls under his breath.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t want Miss Blake to hear you using that kind of language.”

“I don’t want to do this with you. I’m tired, I’m hungry and there’s shit you don’t know.” Jace sighs, dropping his head.

Cocking my head to the side, I take Jace in. He has bags under his eyes, a few bruises and cuts around his face, and the way he holds himself. It’s obvious something happened on the road, that wasn’t between them.

“What happened?” I ask, pulling the fridge open.

“Long story short, we were attacked twice, she had a tracker in her shoulder, we had to stop at Luna’s, and there’s more to her that we don’t know.”

“I thought it was supposed to be some guy we wereprotecting,” I spat out. I didn’t like the idea in the first place and hate it even more now.

I don’t understand why Jace wanted to take this job even if it was a favor to Walker. I don’t protect. I hunt and kill others.

“So just fucking ask her.”

“If it were that easy I would have. She has panic attacks, she hates being touched, and she has nightmares. She doesn’t even fucking speak, dude.”

I chuckle again. Doesn’t like being touched, my ass.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You sure she doesn’t like being touched?” I smirk in my mask, even if he can’t see my face. Jace knows me enough that he can read my facial expressions without having to see me.

“Ryker,” he warns.

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