Page 94 of Boy of Ruin
“J.”
Just like the letter I carved into her flesh.
J.
It’s bleeding, but nothing too deep. Just in case it doesn’t scar, I go over it one more time, deeper, and this time, a small sob escapes her lips, her grip in my hair painful.
But I’m not done yet.
I drop the knife to the floor with a thud, glance at my bleeding hand, then drag it over the J carved into her low belly, three inches long.
Impossible to fucking miss.
If he ever sees her naked again—and I’ll probably kill him if that happens—he’ll see that I’ve fucking been here.
I see our blood smeared on her skin and my cock throbs all over again. Leaning closer, I grip her hips in my bloody hand, run my tongue over the wound. My name. Who I am to her.
Only her.
I’ve always been only hers.
She shakes in my arms, gasping my name again.
I run my tongue over the letter three more times, savoring the iron taste of our blood.
Then I drag my teeth down her underwear at the same time my fingers go to her boots. She plants her hands on my head to balance herself, and I pull off her shoes and socks as I drag down the lace material with my teeth until it falls between her bare feet. I throw her boots away from us.
I pull back, gripping her by her hips, looking up at her face, my mouth inches from her bare pussy.
I inhale her scent, see her eyes flutter open, dipping down to the mark I left on her. She sucks in a breath, her face going pale, but she doesn’t say a word.
I lean in close, run my tongue up her slit, groaning at the clean taste of her. She moans, biting her lip. I close my mouth on her clit and she tilts her head back, her throat arched. Pulling back, I stare at her pussy, so fucking perfect.
Just like her.
“Get on your knees,” I tell her, my fingers biting into her skin.
She swallows but she does as I ask, dropping to her knees in front of me. She has to tilt her head back now to see me, and I see it in her eyes.
The trust.
It’s still there, even after what I just did to her.
It turns me on all over again.
And I can’t fucking wait anymore.
I drag my hand up her body, feel the subtle dips and curves, her hard nipple beneath my palm, see her skin streaked with our blood.
I splay my fingers against her jaw, push my bloody thumb into her mouth, as far back as I can, until she fucking gags.
She reaches her hands out, slipping her fingers under my shirt, nails biting into my torso as she holds onto me, her silver eyes wide.
“I bind myself to you tonight. No matter the shift of the knife.” I see her surprise, her mouth opening around my thumb. I push my index and middle finger down her throat instead, watch as she gags again, her eyes watering, but she doesn’t pull back. “Through blood and bone, flesh and heart, death may come,” I smile at her, one hand going to her breast as I pinch her nipple and she gasps around my fingers, “but we shall not part.”
Yeah. She thought he was the only motherfucker she’d do Lover’s Death with.
Fuck. That. Shit.
