Page 29 of Ruin

It makes me want to feast on her fucking soul.

Consume every part of her.

Swallow her down.

Piece by fucking piece.

“Baby Bird,” I rasp over her lips, hand planting beside her head as I grind myself inside of her. “Fuck, you feel so good, sloppy and wet, and so fucking tight, Ava.” I grit my teeth, bite into her lips, suck the top one into my mouth, clench my eyes closed as her pussy squeezes me even harder. “Baby Bird, fuck, fuck,fuck.”

I fuck her harder, panting, my hips smacking into hers, the wet suction sounds of our joining loud in my ears. It’s what I focus on, the sounds of our fucking, her soft, breathy pants, all of it her, her, her, drowning out the clinking of her chain.

Sweat slicks the back of my neck, my chest, her fingers clawing into the skin of my chest. Her legs tremble, and I can feel her trying to move them around me, but they don’t cooperate, they don’t do anything. My cock slams into her, over and over, harder and harder. Fingers releasing her hair, I nudge her head back with the tip of my nose against the underside of her chin, angling her head back as far as the metal shackle will allow.

It’s not even conscious thought when my teeth sink into the only exposed part of her throat, beneath her chin, I suck hard, bite harder, my hand sliding between our bodies, my other hand still planted beside her head, holding my weight off of her fragile body. My thumb finds her clit, pressing hard and circling franticly, she pants harder, I pant harder and then her hips flex, bucking into me, and I slam my way home. Roaring my release, my cum filling her and filling her, her cunt pulsing and squeezing. It feels like pure fucking ecstasy, fire, pain. Everything it should and shouldn’t be.

Something I shouldn’t be doing that feels so fucking good, I know I’ll never be able to quit this, her. I lower myself down on top of her, my arms sliding beneath her back, I roll us until she’s on top, her body too light atop me, but I can fix that. I can do that, fix her.

Heavy breaths puff between her lips against my throat, the thick length of cold chain trapped between our sweat slick bodies. My heart thuds hard in my chest, echoing and buzzing inside my ears. I can hear hers too, feel it, banging against my chest, as though her heart is trying to break free, make its way to mine.

My eyes close, blocking out the red lights above, the feel of the blood beneath my back, my cum seeping slowly out as my cock softens inside of her. I have this frantic urge to force it back inside of her. To come again, decorate every inch of her in it.Me.

But she lifts up from where she’s plastered to my chest, something I never thought would feel so right, my big hands cupping the sides of her head. She stares down at me, elbows bent, shaky hands planted against my chest. Breathing hard, that crackle I noticed before sharp in her lungs. It’s what prompts me to move, to release her head, to lift up from the ground. Her hands curling around my shoulders tightly.

Focusing on my next steps, getting medicine, I place her back inside her cage, her bottom lip pouting. I release her, quickly turning my back on her, heading straight for the first door and she whimpers like a kitten caught in a bear trap. My head snaps over my shoulder, her eyes wide, body trembling where she tries to lift up onto her knees, but there’s no muscle, all wastage, from being trapped, kept in a cage for fuck knows how long. I remember what it’s like, having to learn to weight bear, walk again.

Agony.

“I’m coming back,” I grunt lowly, those sapphire blues shining, her pale scarred body covered in me, my blood, my cum.

I nod my head at her again, and close the door behind me.

Chapter15

Charlie

Having retrieved various antibiotics from my upstairs bedroom, I make my way back downstairs, my boots silent on the cold marble floors. Voices murmuring draws my eye to the darkened alcove entry of the family dining room. The halls are dark, wall sconces dimly lit, my dad is likely out with Violet, he takes her out most nights now that Lala and I are running things. And even that is something I’ve been pulling back from. Cam will be at the gym, because it’s where his life is, training, fighting, watching. And Eli is likely off somewhere stalking a poor girl that he thinks is his soul mate. Pretty certain she doesn’t know he even exists.

Regardless, I would know it’s her anywhere.

Kyla-Rose.

Her voice, this low, rasped husk, deep for a woman, unusual, sexy. It doesn’t matter that our souls are tethered in ways that blood relatives probably shouldn’t be.

She is her and I am me and together we are chaos.

It is one of the only things that has kept me on this side of the veil of life and death for so long.

Ignoring her and whoever she speaks with, I drift past the archway without looking in, making my way into the kitchen. Hands securing over the round door handles, I pull open the wooden doors, entering the pantry. I fish out large plastic tubs of various flavoured protein powder, nutrient bars, an array of things that Cam uses when he wants to gain weight to bulk up.

Arms filled with cylinders and bags, I kick the pantry doors shut behind me, pinching a bag of protein clusters between my teeth. Grabbing a litre of full fat milk as I pass the fridge, I start to head back down the hall. Arms full, heart fluttering in my chest. I think of Ava’s pretty face, the way she took me, everything I gave her. How she liked it, or at least, wanted my attention.

She didn’t want me to leave.

Feet picking up pace, unconsciously, I start to move faster, suddenly fuelled to get back to her. The dark, red room. My face stings as the cool air of the house rushes against the claw marks but all it does is jerk my cock back to life. Growing hard in my jeans, desperate to get to her. I’ve never had something that is just mine before, I’ve always had to share. My older brother, Jacob, always got his way, I was never treated differently, but I cowed to him as children, let him lead, take point.

Jacob was supposed to be different.

My hands start to grow slick, moisture beading on the back of my neck. Mind conjuring memories of him, shot, bleeding out, my finger pulling the trigger, my gun expelling the bullets that took his life.

---