Page 29 of Bound By Ruin

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When my fake ID finally arrives, I quickly decide that it’s stupid.

Stupid, stupid,stupid.

The picture is clearly photoshopped. All of my tattoos have been scrubbed clean in the image, even the knife on the side of my neck. On the night of the gala, Celia helps me cover up the real ones with concealer, spending two fucking hours making all three of my brothers and me presentable. We go through at least three bottles of makeup, despite it being made for tattoo cover-ups. She says something aboutblendingto make everything look even, whatever the fuck that means.

While she gets ready in Rage’s bedroom, I stare at my reflection in my bathroom mirror, not liking what I see staring back at me. My lip piercing is lying on the counter instead of on my face where it belongs, and Rage forced me to get a haircut so that when I slick back my hair, it will actually stay in place without falling into my eyes. The barber shaved off the sides to give me some kind of a vintage gentleman look, but little did he know, I have a tattoo on my skull, too. It peeks out through what little remains on my sides, like a big oldfuck youto my older brother.

I hope Rage notices and getsreallyfucking pissed about it.

Turning my head, I try to catch a glimpse of my ink. I got it shortly after officially joining the bratva, so it’s no wonder Rage doesn’t remember. He was too busy kissing Ezra’s ass to pay attention to what I was doing half the time. The tattoo has faded over the years, but the joker card’s fleshless skull is still grinning back at me, the bloodied knife he flicks over his head as red as the day it was inked.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s playing people. They’re too trusting of a pretty face, especially if that face knows how to win a lot of cash and have a good time.

Everyone at this pretend casino night event is about to have their bank accounts fucked hard, by yours truly.

I fiddle with the tie around my neck, the knot way too fucking tight on account of Rage’s anal standards about our appearance for the evening. It pinches my neck like it wants to get me off at half price. Rolling my eyes, I loosen it so that I can actually breathe, then unroll my sleeve cuffs so that they hang over my wrists.

“Perfection is necessary,” my ass.

The minute I’ve walked through those doors, I’m untucking my shirt and throwing the tie in the nearest trash can, appearances be damned. I’ve always been told that I have a roguish charm, and people will be able to see through me if I look all dolled up like some pompous billionaire.

I won’t pretend to be something—or someone—I’m not.

Which brings us back to the name dilemma.

I place my palms on the bathroom counter and lean over the sink, dangling my head and closing my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I will myself into thinking that the name doesn’t matter. It’s just a word. So what if people think I’mEmiltonight? It won’t change who I really am.

I’m stillme.I’m still Rebel.

My birth name doesn’t fucking change that.

There’s a knock on my bathroom door before it swings open, and the most beautiful fucking woman steps into view. She’s not fully dressed yet, wearing a matching set of black lace panties, bra, and a little band around her thigh that conceals one of the tiniest knives I’ve ever seen. Fiddling with a piece of jewelry in her hands, Celia doesn’t look up as she approaches me. “Rebel, can you help me clasp this?”

My heart soars at being her go-to choice. “Yes,” I reply eagerly, dropping everything I’m doing to walk over to her. I hold out my open palm until she drops the diamond necklace in my hand. When she finally looks up, her eyes widen.

“You like it?” I ask, smirking as her eyes rake across my new look. I might not feel like me without my tattoos and piercings, but I sure as hell look as hot as I usually do.

Her eyes narrow for a second before she reaches up and ruffles my hair, undoing the gentleman look with a simple brush of her fingers. Carefully styling a few strands to fall over my forehead while the others tumble back, she smiles. “There. Now you’re as gorgeous as me.”

“Cheeky!” Folding over her body, I bury my face in the crook of her neck and inhale her perfume. All it takes is a slow skim of my lips over her skin for my cock to swell, and I’m dragging her body into mine. Nipping her delicate skin, I love the little gasp that falls from her lips.

“We don’t have time,” she sighs, hooking her fingers into my waistband. “C’mon, help me get ready. Rage is already throwing a fit over Ruin.”

I steal a lingering kiss, slipping my tongue between her lips with a groan. “Let him stew, baby. I’ve always got time for you.” I drop her necklace into my pocket and lift her, swinging her around until she’s braced on the bathroom counter.

God, she’s gorgeous. Her tits don’t spill out of her bra like they normally do, butfuck, I so don’t care. Running my tongue between them, I taste her skin, eager for more. “If I make you come,” I murmur, flicking my gaze up to her face, “then you don’t get to wearthese—” I tug off her panties and slip them into my back pocket—“tonight.” Spreading her thighs, I inhale her scent and choke on a moan.Fuck, she’s delicious, and I haven’t even tasted her yet.

Scooting her ass to the edge of the counter and dropping a folded towel to the tile floor, I drop to my knees andfinallydive between her thighs, licking a stripe along her pussy and groaning. Her nails dig into my scalp as I spread her lips and go deeper, spearing her with my tongue before laving her clit with long, hard strokes. Celia keens, her back arching as she digs her heels into my shoulders, pulling me closer.

Fuck, she’s into this.I’minto this. Why the hell have I been letting Rage do all the tongue work? Because heclaimedit?

Her pussy gets wetter, drenching my mouth and chin, and I groan as my cock fills to bursting. I run the pads of my fingers along her entrance, teasing her, before getting to my feet and tearing at my belt. “Let me fuck you,” I pant. “I want you dripping down your thighs all night, baby.”

Abangbehind me makes Celia jump, but I’m used to my brother’s outbursts. “Rebel,” Rage hisses, having burst into the room, “don’t you dare!”

Freeing my cock, I rush to get inside our girl before he spoils our fun. Slotting myself against her heat, I grin at Rage’s reflection as I push inside. “Ohhh,” I groan, grabbing her hip to steady her. She’s soaking wet and trembling, her legs quickly wrapping around my waist as I punch deeper, slotting myself fully inside of her. “Fuck, that’s good.Fuck, baby, that’s good.”

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