Page 28 of Game of Hell
I smile because deep down having his appraisal means more to me than it should. A dimple creases his cheek and I realize he's smiling too. I would have never known he’d had a dimple if it weren't for this moment.
“You understand me better than I do.” I say as I lift my hand to graze his cheek and he lets me.
It’s warm beneath my touch and the curve of his jawline is sharp. I memorize his face—his jewelry, the way his cheeks curve in, and the small mole on his neck. Redemption is written in bold ink right below his collarbones, centered in the middle of his chest. I trace the letters, focused on nothing but him.
“I find darkness in light and bring it to life. I crawl into your mind to understand why it was hidden, why it was buried and I twist it to be better—something you’ll look back on and finally feel peace with.”
I shudder and my hand drops to my side. Pressure builds in my throat and a slow ache forms in my chest. A sensation for much more gnaws at my skin creating a feeling of insanity in my mind. The raw, dominating and completely unfiltered sex hit a spot in me that’s depraved—corrupt.
When he’s done showering me I step out, unclothed, vulnerable, and a battered bruised mess. I look at all the marks in the mirror and Ronan watches my expression silently. I noticehis name engraved into the soft flesh of my side in messy, chopped letters and slithers of thin cuts are littered beneath my breast. Bruises darken my stomach, arms, and neck like I’ve survived a bear attack.
A tear trickles down my eyes unknowingly and I wipe it as fast as it falls. I’m not weak, I never was. These marks just show how strong I am. How much I can endure, while also receiving some of the best orgasms I’ve ever experienced. I feel alive.
I look back up at Ronan through the mirror, he strips down and steps into the shower. Even with the sweat and blood glistening on his body, his face is still a perfectly painted canvas. My blood adds a fierce almost demented feel that makes him even hotter. We’ve created intimacy, love, and passion through secrets. Secrets that should have ruined us.
Steadying my racing heart I pull on his discarded shirt, finding comfort in the soft cotton. The little clothing does nothing to stop the aching spots on my bruised body. I step out of the bathroom and grab a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. I nearly slip on the fluids he threw at me earlier but balance myself and slowly lay on the bed.
My head begins to ache from the shit I’ve endured in the last few hours. I glance at the clock and 33:29 stares back at me in hauntingly, beautiful neon red. I sigh and rub my hand down my face. Two more clues to find before time is up. Ronan steps into the room, the scent of his freshly cleaned skin greets me first followed by his glistening abs, each muscle stacked perfectly after the other.
“You know tying people up for your amusement is wrong.”
I can still feel the heat of his touch on my skin—the searing pain of his fingers gliding across my stomach down to the numbing tingle in my pussy.
I’m seriously fucked and sick.
And I don't care.
“Don’t you know lying to yourself is also wrong? If you really want to talk about wrongs and rights we can but I doubt you’d want to venture down that road, Little Devil.”
My breath catches in my throat and I go quiet. Talking recklessly with Ronan will never be enough, he’ll always be one step ahead with a sarcastic or smug response. Each word is a step closer to his version of hell, to seeing the darkness in the world.
He’s the villain in the bedtime stories we grew up listening to. Ruthless, uncaring, he couldn’t give a fuck if he hurts you in the process as long as you bend for him and him only. He’s the villain in my story and I don’t know how I should feel about that. Has there ever been a happy ending to those stories?
“I was taught at a young age that kindness doesn’t get you far, Little Devil. I sharpened myself into something people can’t touch. Wield yourself to be strong even when you aren't on the inside. Be a weapon and you’ll see that everyone in your life orchestrated for you to see what's ‘wrong’ and what's ‘right’. Those words don’t exist in my world, not anymore.”
I nod, understanding his point. What I did with my professor was neither right nor wrong. I did it with my heart and I must learn from it. I won’t nor will I ever be like him, but he’s right. If I'm strong then I’m powerful and with that power I can overcome all that I’ve lost in the past. Ronan’s words are carved into me, and with them my future burns brighter than the ruins of my past. Everyone who has ever hurt me will feel my rage. They will never hurt me again.
“For once I agree with you.” My voice is strong and the embarrassment of all my dirty secrets that were spilt here don’t matter to me anymore.
I know I can trust Ronan to keep them forever. That I don’t have to be ashamed anymore. Emerson was right all along and I wish I would’ve listened to him all those years ago.
I stand up on wobbly legs and walk around searching for my next clue. Everything on me aches but I push through. I go over to the table with all the jars and start lifting them one by one. Most of them are pushed around because of Ronan and I lift the one closest to the back and the dark paper immediately catches my eyes.
“Another clue, Ronan.” I snatch up the paper and turn to him with it.
“Great.” He muses. I roll my eyes and read the note aloud.
“For, Ember, find the object that represents the reason you were kicked out of college. Tell your partner how much of a slut you were for your female professor.” My jaw ticks with unease.
A low chuckle leaves his lips as he leans forward.
“Who could’ve guessed you like women.” His words are a taunt, reverberating against my skull like a joke.
“Yeah well they’ve got much more to offer than any male does.” I seethe and set the clue on the table along with all the others.
“Do they now? Did she ever have you aching days after? Did she make your pussy as wet as I do?”
My eyes meet him instantly. He’s jealous. I almost laugh aloud but smirk as I slowly trace my finger across the table.
