Page 45 of Ruin

Backs of his fingers pinch each nipple, his hand passing down my belly. Flattened fingers sweeping across the inside of my thigh. Knuckles nudging my thighs wider, my right leg dropping out to the side easily.

“Keep still,” he breathes.

Charlie tucks my head beneath his chin, cheek to his chest, his heart steady and hard against my ear, drumming evenly inside my skull. Then the sharp pricking spears the inside of my knee, making me jolt. Pain bolts down my spine, a stinging pinch buzzing through me as he works the sharp point down the flesh of my inner thigh.

“So good, Baby Bird,” he rumbles approvingly as I sit still in his lap just like he instructed, my breaths slowing the tighter his fingers press into my skull.

The pinprick sensation stabs deeper at the crease of my inner thigh, the coolness of his hand welcome over my rapidly heating core. Back arching automatically, a low whine on my tongue as the sharp point punctures me again, closer and closer to my cunt. He huffs a breath against the top of my head, something like amusement, my breathing picks back up, heart rate steadily climbing.

“Such a pretty baby bird,” he hushes, breath rushing across the top of my head, blowing tangled strands of my hair.

Fingers massaging my scalp, a groan building in my chest. His hand drops between my legs, my body stilling as he drags the sharp object across my pubic bone. The cold metal slipping lower, the length of it pressing between my folds. Charlie’s fingers in my hair continue circling in place. His chin digging hard into the top of my skull.

“Mmm,” Charlie sighs against the top of my head, my eyes still closed, hands balled into fists.

His thumb brushes lower, the object still in the grip of his fingers. Pad of his thumb stroking up my slit, another light huff of laughter.

“Feels good, huh, little one?” he rasps, my heart blooming with the endearment. His thumb pushing between my folds, over the sharp metal, “You’re wet,” he murmurs, my cheeks flushing with heat.

His thumb is a gentle caress up my slit, re-pinching the metal between his thumb and finger, he drags it up through my wetness. Removing it from my flesh. And then the sharp point is pricking the wet skin, his fingers fanning over the crease of my thigh as he works the tip into my flesh.

He groans lowly, a strangled sort of sound echoing in his throat, then he presses deeper, making me jolt as pain bites in the sensitive flesh, his fingers tightening on my scalp.

“Open your eyes,” he hushes. “Look at what calms you, Baby Bird,” the point of his chin digging harder into the top of my head as he, too, moves to look.

My eyes flutter open, gaze on his inked chest, focus on the feel of his cool, bare skin wrapped around me. Gifting me a false sense of security, he holds me tighter, and I look down. I swallow hard, watching his vein rippled hand slowly work the sharp tip of a long, fine needle in and out of my skin. Puncturing the flesh of my most sensitive area with ease, care, restraint.

I try not to squirm, glancing up at him, his large green eyes enraptured on the movement of his hand. Bottom lip curled between his teeth, the pink skin blanched white where he bites down on it. The soft pricks of pain evaporate the longer I stare at him, my lips parted, eyes flicked up high to watch him. Serene, the glassiness of his eyes, the concentration of tension between his brows. I melt into his hold, his gaze finally rolling down onto mine. A small tilt to one corner of his plump lips.

“You’re not panicking anymore,” he whispers, soft eyes on mine, the needle still working down one side of my exposed pussy.

He holds my slight weight with ease, almost like an embrace, the way his hand softens in my hair, his eyes flicking to the dark, knotted tangles with something like reverence.

“My brother cuts my hair,” he tells me quietly.

My entire focus honed in on him, tunnel vision on the delicate flutter of his pale lashes, the way they dust the top of his cheekbones when he blinks. The way his damaged voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating into the bones of my face.

“I don’t like strangers touching me,” he says with a small crease between his brows. “I will have him sort this out,” he breathes the words softly, my gaze never wandering from his where he stares at my hair between the webbing of his fingers. “Will you let him, Baby Bird?”

Mouth parted, head tilted back, enraptured with any word he speaks to me, skull resting in the warming palm of his hand, I nod slowly, licking my dry lips.

He rumbles an encouraging sound, then, “So good, my little Ava.”

His praise warms my insides, my guts twisting and knotting with his approval. Heart pounding so hard in my chest, it threatens to break free of my skeleton.

The needle pierces the delicate flesh on the inside of my folds, my tummy tightening, hunger forgotten as Charlie looks down at what he’s doing to me and a low moan mumbles from my lips.

“Yes,”he hisses, “so good, Baby Bird,” the needle moves to the other side, closer and closer to my entrance. “You bleed so fuckin’ pretty,” he drags the tip of the needle up the length of the delicate skin, tapping the end of it against my swollen clit.

A whimper rips free of my hoarse throat as he hums. I squirm then, trying to stop myself from moving, his eyes flash onto mine, something like awe in his deep green depths.

“I knew you were like me,” it’s a murmur, fear and devotion thick in each pronounced word, it ripples through my bloodstream as the needle punctures deep into my clit, making my back arch, electricity bolting through my veins with pain and pleasure.

My breath rushes in and out, teeth puncturing my bottom lip as he pushes the sharp point so deep it feels like the needle will disappear inside of me.

And then he’s tearing it free, my back slamming into the cold concrete as he thrusts me out of his lap. The needle clatters to the floor beside my head. Length of my chain slithering from my body to the ground as he curls himself over the top of me, breath panting over my lower belly. I crane my neck. Tilting my head forward as far as my shackle allows so I can see him.

His arms curl beneath my knees, bending my limp legs up to my chest, and dragging my pulsing core up, directly into his mouth. A loud groan of shock rushes from my lips, a whimper and cry as he flicks his gaze up onto mine.

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