Page 111 of Boy of Ruin
I reach down under her shirt, trail my hand up her thigh, press two fingers into her wet pussy, see her eyes flutter closed.
I laugh, running my tongue over her lips. “Yeah, you want me to hurt you. You want me to make you bleed. You want to cut ties with him for good.”
I pull out of her, hand still around her throat as she opens her eyes.
I push down my shorts, my cock aching for her.
Without waiting for an answer, I pick her up, and her legs wrap around me as I push into her, groaning as I do, shoving her against the glass door with every fucking thrust.
Her arms are wrapped around my shoulders, her brows pressed to mine as I bounce her up and down on my cock.
“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you baby?” I ask her as her hands move up to cup my face, little whimpers escaping her lips.
“Yes,” she whispers, her moans and her tight pussy slick against my cock making my eyes nearly roll back in my fucking head. “Always, J,” she gasps, her breath fanning my mouth as I fuck her.
Her back collides over and over with the glass, her head, too, and I can’t find it in me to care. She doesn’t care, either.
She’s going to be covered in bruises, but I’m not sure it’s enough.
I want them around her throat, too.
I want another visual reminder of the ways I fucking own her.
I wrap my hand around her throat, knock her head back against the glass. She tilts her chin up, facing the sky, her eyes closed as I slam into her.
I’m so fucking close.
So fucking close.
I dig my fingers into her ass as I fuck her, her tits bouncing beneath her shirt, her mouth wide open but nothing coming out because she can’t fucking breathe.
I groan, yanking her head down as I sink my teeth into her bottom lip, loosening my grip around her throat so I can hear her gasp as I taste blood in my mouth, and she clenches around me from the pain.
I finish inside of her, pissed all over again that my cum is going to waste. That I can’t knock her up, ruin her body, not in the ways he already did.
She’s breathing hard, her eyes on mine, her hands cupping my face again as I hold her against the glass.
It’s okay.
I know what it’s like to be raised by two people who can’t fucking stand you. I won’t do that to her kid.
It’ll be our kid.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror in the bathroom of the cabin. Bruises line my throat, and I finish tying the bandana around it, although it does little to hide them. I don’t necessarily want to.
Unlike all the other times my brother has bruised me, I wanted it this time. I wanted him to punish me for the hurt he’s felt at all the times I’ve denied him. I deserve it. All the fucking pain. I deserve it, for him and for Lucifer.
I close my eyes as I think about my husband, my hands coming to the counter, curling around the tile as I bow my head.
I wonder if he’s still with Julie.
Does he think of me? Did he fuck both of them? Does he hate me? Does he know why I ran?
I think of Mayhem, and hope he’s told him the truth. That I loved him, Lucifer, so much. So fucking much, and that’s why I had to leave.
He was going insane being around me.
And even with our stolen moments of happiness…I don’t know why I am the way I am. Why I want to run when I have every reason to stay. I don’t know why it’s so fucking hard for me to be happy, content.
