Page 24 of Ruin Me Knot
There’s nothing but the unknown. And there’s no way back.
I don’t buy the fairy tale they’re weaving, but I don’t want the misery. They’re not Hardwick, or Wallace, and Ronan is right. I can’t do this on my own.
The tiniest blanket of comfort settles around me. They, at least, think they’re doing the right thing by me. They can’t hurt me any more than what’s already been done, and so I take a chance. Gather enough courage so I can nod. Just once as surrender crackles through me.
Ronan’s breath shudders at the shell of my ear. "Thank you," he whispers, as if my broken nod is something sacred.
A tight, brittle laugh squeezes out of me while I try to ignore the cramp corkscrewing through my insides. I force the words out before any more surrender can spill over. "Don’t thank me. I’m not bonding. I’m doing this because there isn’t a choice. I’m not yours no matter what your scents are to me. This is just because I can’t stand to hurt any more. Don’t start planning the victory parade." My anger flares up quick, bright armor for how off-balance I am. "You try to mark me; I’ll break your nose."
The words taste sharp, a last little wall before I lose all good sense. Still, the truth of it shakes inside me. I’d let them do anything to stop this hurt, but I don’t know how to let them have me.
Ronan nods once, eyes unreadable, nothing but calm in his face. He simply says, "No bonding. No marks. That’s your call, Kitten."
Gabriel flashes a flicker of a smile, eyes soft. "No arguments here, although I don’t mind if you mark me. You set the rules, we follow."
Jax’s big hand covers mine, squeezing gently. "You don’t want knots, you don’t get knots. Whatever you don’t want, we don’t do. That’s it."
A strange, fresh panic rolls through me. No one’s ever agreed so quickly, so easily. It leaves me floundering, untethered, uncertain, frantic for someone to show me where to put my hands, my body, my…trust.
I stare at the hollow at the base of Ronan’s throat. "That’s good then."
Great comeback, but then I can’t hold back the wince as my insides start to make a blender out of my uterus.
Ronan pushes my hair over my shoulder. His fingertips are so light on my skin I break out in goosebumps. "Tell us what you crave."
"I…" My mind goes painfully, embarrassingly blank. I can’t picture anything past the ache. I have no script. No experience. There’s just the heat twisting inside me, the roll of desire and a terrifying blank space where an answer should be.
I fumble for words and come up empty, frustration sparking under my skin. "I… I don’t know…" I trail off, cheeks burning hotter than the volcano erupting in my blood and the cavern in my core, every inch of me tight and strung out.
I squeeze my knees together, as if I can anchor myself with the friction. The silence stretches, and I want to sink into the pile of cushions and disappear. I don’t know what to do with my body. I don’t know what I’msupposedto want.
Ronan’s voice is gentle, as if he can hear the storm in my head. "Would you like me to help, Kitten?"
It’s impossible to look him in the eye. I just lower my head and nod, once, sharp and miserable. Embarrassment floods me, making it hard to breathe. Gods, could this get any more humiliating? And yet, under the burn of it, there is a small relief as though I’ve let go of a burden I was never meant to carry alone.
"Can I touch you so I can show you what to do? Show you how I can give you relief while you set the pace?" he asks.
I weigh his steady gaze. He lets me study him. Just sits there unmoving and waiting for my call.
"O…okay," I say.
"I’m going to move you on my lap and put your legs either side of my hips," Ronan rasps.
I send him a glare to make sure we’re both on the same page, but his scent remains mellow, thick and masculine with his own arousal. I trust enough that I nod again and then so slowly, he moves his hand away from my neck. Then both hands run down my thighs as he shifts me so I’m straddling his lap, knees pressed into the softness of the couch, legs bracketing his hips. He sets the blanket over my shoulders, covering me from behind. A shudder works through me as his hardness fills the throbbing place between my legs. I tense, waiting for the moment he drags me against him and takes what I’m not ready to give. Instead, he sinks back against the couch, broad arms stretching along the top of the sofa.
I sit on his lap, core throbbing. Every instinct tells me to flatten over his chest and grind on the thick knot trapped in his pants, but I can’t make myself move. Not until I know it’s the right thing to do.
"Move against me, Kitten." His voice is thick with want. He clenches the back of the cushions so deep the material strains, but makes no moves to force me to do anything.
My breath wheezes. I’m splayed over him intimately. Thank the Gods the towel is wrapped tightly around my body because I don’t want to know how much slick I’m coating him with.
"Use me to ease your pain. Please," Ronan says.
An offering and surrender. I give an experimental slide of my hips and the most exquisite sensation shoots through me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. A sigh drifts from my parted lips as I do it again. And again. My body is a live wire, every nerve screamingmore, more, more.
The heat between my thighs is unbearable, slick coating my skin, soaking through Ronan's jeans where I now rock against him in earnest. I glance down to see my pussy lips spread over the denim covering his bulge. He’s huge under the material. The sheer size of him stretches the denim taut, and each twitch of his cock sends sparks through my flesh.
"You're shaking," Jax murmurs from beside me. His dark eyes are fathomless pools locked on me. Sweet, smoky warmth wraps around us but he doesn't reach for me.
