Page 104 of Boy of Ruin
I think of Lucifer.
His dark blue eyes on mine. The way he loved me before I could ever possibly think of loving him back.
I think of him pinning me down while the warehouse burned. Jeremiah inside. My brother. Whether he is or not, he’s always been there, since day one, just like a brother. But more.
“Fucking tell me, Sid.” Jeremiah’s grip against my belly is almost painful.
I meet his eyes, my own widening.
I think of Ophelia moaning Lucifer’s name. Julie, too.
Think of how he might’ve killed me the first night we met, except…he thought I was pretty.
What a fucking joke.
We’re toxic together. Nothing but chaos. Lilith and Lucifer were only made for hell. There’s no happy ending there. No chance at goodness.
But Jeremiah?
He’s always been mine. And me?
I hold his gaze as I say, “I think I’ve always been yours.”
With those words, he moves so fast I don’t have time to breathe when he sits up, shoving me backward, down against the couch as he moves over me.
His hand comes between us, over his cock, and I spread my thighs, my hands on his broad back, down his shoulders.
His face is inches from mine as he nudges against me, his breath like mint and vodka as he says, “I love you, baby,” then he pushes all the way in, not letting me adjust to him, just like he didn’t before.
He’s thick, stretching me, and for a second, it burns. I rake my nails down his back as his hands come to either side of my head on the couch.
I gasp, and he smiles, then brushes his full lips over mine.
“You’re fucking everything to me,” he whispers, his mouth grazing my lips with every word as he pulls out just slightly, then pushes back into me.
I can’t stop the moan from my mouth, and he sweeps my hair back, smiling down at me. “Say my name,” he says softly. There’s no command, no anger or venom. It’s a request.
A plea.
“Jer—”
He stops, fully inside of me. “No, baby.” His hand trails down my face, gripping my chin. “My name.”
I run my fingers down his triceps, flexed and hard beneath my touch. “Jamie,” I whisper the word, almost as if I don’t believe it. As if this isn’t…him. Is it wrong I still see him as my brother? The boy I grew up with? Even with him fucking me again and his mouth not even an inch from mine, he’s the one that’s always been there.
He fucks me harder, tipping his head back as I take in the sharp line of his jaw. He groans, biting his lip.
I say it again, and he dips his chin, staring at me like he… “I love you, Sid,” he says, his words hoarse.
I gasp, as he hits deeper, angling his hips. “I-I—”
His mouth finds mine, drowning my words, his tongue meeting my own. He pulls back, just slightly to take me in. “You what, baby?”
I open my mouth again to speak the words, but my pussy clenches against him as he fucks me harder, as if he doesn’t want me to be able to speak.
“You what?” he teases me, leaning back, grabbing both legs, placing them over his shoulder so he’s hitting deeper, harder.
I gasp his name, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head as he puts one hand on my throat, then uses the pad of his thumb to circle my clit.
