Page 32 of Renegade Ruin

“Not mine,” I mutter under my breath. Mostly for me, but when she answers “not yours”, I’m left wondering if she needs the reminder too.

Fuck, we’re quite the pair.

“Now”—her attention shifts from my cock to my face, and she arches a single brow—“are you going to fuck me or not?”

My balls draw up with desire, and I can’t help the way my lips tip all the way up in a smile that feels foreign to me. “You’ve got a mouth on you, now.”

Willow shrugs. “I learned from the best.”

Her confidence is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise suffocating world, and not at all expected. “Are you trying to break me?”

“No, I’m trying to get you to break me,” she quips.

Fucking hell, I’m in trouble.

“Lose the bra,” I demand.

While she slips off the remainder of her clothes, I make quick work of sheathing my cock with the condom. I nudge her knees further apart and slide onto the bed between them. Running the length of my dick through her slick folds, I take my time teasing her and coating my dick with her arousal.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Mmmhmm.” Her whimpers are a symphony, and when I tap the top barbell on the underside of my cock against her clit, she jerks her hips up to meet me.

Unimpressed with my antics, Willow arches her back and angles her hips so I’m notched at her entrance.

Her blue eyes blaze into me and something clicks. Something primal. Something pure. Something I shouldn’t want.

I ignore the twinge in my chest. The one telling me this is a terrible idea, and I should absolutely get up and walk the fuck away. Right now. Do not pass go. Just leave Willow and whatever fucked up game we’re playing behind.

But there’s not enough blood for my brain, heart, and dick to all work at once, and I have no complaints over which is winning the war.

I’m aching. Desperate. My body needs this like it needs its next breath, and my mind is begging for relief. It’s unconventional, but honestly, Willow’s a goddamn genius.

Her sharp inhale goes straight through me, causing goosebumps to break out across my flesh as I hold on to her hips and push into her, painfully slow so I don’t wreck her—or me.

A shared gasp is the only sound between us in the otherwise deafening silence of the hotel room.

“So goddamn tight,” I grit out, sliding the final inch, so I’m completely seated within her.

She licks her lips and moans, her eyes baring her soul. “Just how you like it.”

God, she’s magnificent.

Willow’s hand digs into my forearms, grounding her as I slide out and back in and I relish the pain. Living for the way it makes my nerves fray and my body come alive. I’m chasing the high, every muscle coiled tight as I work our bodies together.

“Fuck,” I exhale, “you feel too fucking good.”

“Yes,” she pants, rocking her hips to meet my thrusts. “More.”

More.

This damn woman always wants more from me. More leadership. More consideration. More understanding. For months I haven’t been able to give her what she wants, but this—more of my cock—this I can do without the worry of failure.

Wrapping my arm around her, I flip us so she’s on top and scoot us the short distance to the head of the bed.

“Hands on the headboard,” I command, and though she raises a brow in question, she complies. Leaning forward untilher breasts hang just above my mouth and only the tip of my length is left inside her.

“Hold on tight.”

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