Page 40 of Ruin

His big hands come around behind him, the backs of his hands brushing against the tops of my thighs.

“Back up into me,” I hush, watching his hands pulling the flesh of his backside apart. I trace the gun up the length of his jaw, down his back, pressing the muzzle into the base of his spine, “Bend,” I snarl. Applying more pressure on the gun, my other hand stroking absentmindedly up and down my tattooed cock. “More,” I grit out huskily, voice catching in my chest as he parts his cheeks. Gun stroking up and down his spine, “Just like that,” I say appreciatively, the side of my hand coming to rest on his shoulder, gun to his temple.

Kazimir says nothing, panting where he’s angled awkwardly, slumped against the solid wood of the door. Face shadowed, neck arched back, short strands of chestnut hair fallen across his brow, dark eyes illuminated with the lime green light overhead, he looks fucking desperate.

“You’re a fucking mess,” I snarl, top lip curling, I spit on his cheek, his eyes squeezing shut on instinct, fluttering back open, his bright blue eye narrowed on me. “Look at you,” I tut, watching my saliva slide down his face, drip from his chin to the collar of his white shirt. “So desperate and needy for a cock in you-”

“Yours,” he pants, interrupting me, breaking his breathy silence.“Only for yours.”

My heart clenches inside my chest, tongue drying in my mouth at the honesty in his words. I tap the gun against his temple, hearing the rapping of metal on bone. I lick my lips, gathering saliva on my tongue, I look down, stare at his fingers biting aggressively into his firm cheeks. Spread wide open, the swollen head of my cock so close, but not quite touching.

Parting my lips, chin angled down, saliva dribbles free from my bottom lip, landing on his tight, puckered hole. His arse twitching as my spit lands on him, his fingers digging into his flesh harder. I drag my drying hand back down my cock, pulling back the foreskin, lining up with his entrance, my teeth grazing lazily down his shoulder blade.

I step closer, my booted feet between his spread ones, lips to his ear, gun to his temple, I grin. Huffing a laugh through my nose, I slam my way inside him.

No warmup, no teasing, no preparation.

I jerk my hips back, pain in my cock making my eyes water, I grind my jaw, breathing hard through my bared teeth, lip curled up in a snarl. I pound into him, his body hammering against the wood of the door, too loud not to draw attention, so I rip him backwards, shoving him down further on my cock, his hands trapped between our sweat slicked bodies. Trousers and boxers circling his ankles, my jeans hanging low on my hips.

I wrench us back, spinning us towards a tower of plastic boxes, sharply bending him forward. His hands not having moved from where I told him to put them, he pulls himself wider, my cock instantly sinking into him deeper. A groan tearing from both of us as I flex my hips.

Shoving my leather jacket off of my arms, exposing my bare flesh, I drop forward, my chest flush with his back. Gun moving back to the underside of Kazimir’s chin, his neck arching, my free hand yanking his head back with a fistful of his thick hair. I pound into him, flesh clapping loudly as I fuck into him harder and harder.

Burying my groan into the side of his neck, teeth digging into his skin, jaw locking, I tear my head side to side, ripping through his skin, his blood heavy on my tongue. I suck on the wound, his groan ricocheting through the taut tendons in his neck, swallowing him down as he takes everything I’m giving him. My hips snap, cock swelling, my movements becoming uneven, I suck on his flesh, liquid metal coating the inside of my throat, painting my lips.

“Malysh,” he breathes heavily, panting as my pounding gets harder, my movements jerky, erratic, my teeth sinking even further into his flesh. “Come,” his words low, husky, “come for me.Fuck,”he rasps. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he throws out, like it hurts him to admit it, and my hips stutter.

Movements slowing, teeth retracting from his neck, I lean up from his back, glancing down at his face. A pinch between his brows, sweat slick on his face, glistening under the shadows of green. I lick my lips, mouth open, breaths heavy. I blink, my throat tightening.

“Charlie?” Kazimir looks up at me, those bright blue eyes like turquoise slime in the dark. “Baby Boy,” he says quietly, breathlessly.

I pull the gun back, away from him, his words rattling around my skull like a shaken box of razor blades.

I step back, cock slipping out of him, slapping against my lower belly, still hard, wet.

“Charlie?” he husks, letting go of himself to turn around. He straightens, my back colliding with the door, the thud making me blink, a frown forming between my eyes. “Malysh?”

“Stop,” I say, throwing my hand out to stop him coming any closer, my breath coming faster and faster.

“It’s okay,” he reassures quietly, his hands pulling up his clothing, the clink of his belt drumming in my ears as he re-buckles it. “Breathe with me,” he looks up at me from beneath his dark lashes, arms at his sides, his hands open, palms facing out. “Breathe nice and slow, Baby Boy.”

A hiss escapes through my teeth, eyes pinching closed, hand held out in front of me, shaking. My other arm by my side, gun heavy in my hand. I tap my thigh with it, counting to ten, my breath scraping its way up my windpipe like broken glass.

“It’s okay,” Kazimir soothes, my eyes blinking open, his face twisted with concern, eyes sad. “You’re safe.”

His words trigger something locked away deep inside my brain. Hidden in a darkened crevice, chained with silver and doused in holy water. A little wooden box of time I want to forget.

Still, I see him younger, his face pressed up between the gap of my bars, my body beaten and bruised, lying in a puddle of my own filth, and his eyes were sad then too.

“It’s okay” the pretty boy coos, his hands wrapped around my cage bars, his big blue eyes sad, glistening with unshed tears.

My own singeing my hot cheeks as they streak down my face, the rest of me burning, bruising and bleeding. My arms squeeze around the rest of me tighter. Lying in the fetal position. Trying to hold my shattered bones in place. Keep my insides from becoming my outsides.

The chain attached to my ankle clinks, making me cringe at the sound. My jaw clenches making my broken teeth snap more, sharp, bolting pain slicing through my dislocated jaw. I try to move, the agony in my face making me want to die, the heavy shackle around my neck so tight I can barely breathe where it strangles my throat.

But I so desperately want to touch him, even though I know I can’t keep him.

Body too broken to claw my way towards him, I drag my gaze up onto his pretty face instead.

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