Page 24 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

RYDER

I s this a mistake?

She’s hesitant, and after what Gigi said, I understand why. I shouldn’t have asked her to my apartment, but her kisses were hot and excited, her laughter bright.

I’ve been in dark places. You’d think sunlight is what you need after a scare and depression, but sometimes what you need is more darkness. Like with drug addiction, you can’t just go cold turkey.

But this bright, bubbly girl has a core of darkness to rival mine. I can sense it. Could sense it from the first time I laid eyes on her in that fucking bar.

A shard from a black mirror.

A wound that is festering.

Although she’s not me, thank fuck, not this twisted, snarling animal tangled in the bars of his cage… she may still get me.

Like calls to like, and she calls to my soul. To my body. To my everything. I’ve never felt anything like it.

I unlock the building and pull her inside. In the dimness, she seems to glow. But this isn’t a fairytale. I have to remember that. I want to take her right here, but I want to see her eyes when I touch her, when I reveal her.

What can I say? Maybe it’s the artist in me. The truth-seeker.

So I tug on her hand and she follows without a word. Quickly, we go up the stairs in this breathless silence. It’s not tense or uncomfortable. It’s full of expectation.

It’s like a ritual, I think as I open the apartment door and we step inside. Not a creepy, bloodletting one, but a cleansing one. It feels that way with her, and I don’t know why.

Fuck knows I’ve never treated sex with respect before. It’s a relief, a distraction. A way to pass the time.

Not with her. She’s my priestess, my ray of light.

I know I’m falling too deep, that I should rein this back. Or cut it loose. Stop seeing her in that light. But I asked for this, and now she’s here, in my space, smiling a secret smile… and it’s too late.

I don’t want to save myself anymore.

I cup her face and drink in her smile. Fuck, she’s beautiful. I kiss her lips and drag my hands down her neck to her shoulders as I back her against the wall.

“You sure about this, little omega?”

She nods, kissing me back fiercely, hungrily. Her small hands pull on my T-shirt like the claws of a kitten. She’s practically hissing with frustration against my lips.

So I draw back, grab the hem and tear the offensive garment over my head, tossing it aside.

She goes still, staring at my body. I know it’s a lot to take in. All the ink, covering my torso and arms. I’ve been building it year by year, covering my skin. And there are the names.

“Who are they?” she whispers, tracing them with a delicate finger.

They all ask me that.

“My family,” I reply, because it’s the truth. They’re still mine even if I’m not theirs anymore.

Her gaze shutters. “Oh. I didn’t know?—”

“It’s not what you think.”

She searches my eyes for the truth and I let her see it. I’m not lying. After a moment, she nods. “This is a lot of ink.”

I crack a smile. “It sure is. Does it bother you?”

The ink, the names. A few scars, inside and out. A few rough spots.

When her hands trail over my pecs down to my stomach, when she doesn’t move away… I know she’s staying, at least for the night.

My candy girl. My candy doll. She’s made of spun sugar and marshmallow clouds. Soft, so soft. I want to devour her but I let her play with me for a bit, map my chest, look her fill.

“Off,” she says then, surprising me. The marshmallow clouds are hiding a core of fire. “Take all your clothes off.”

I arch a brow. “At your service.”

She giggles softly.

“Before I do…” I put my hands on the fly of my torn jeans. “You asked if I was pierced anywhere else. Well, I have a surprise for you.”

She licks her lips, her gaze focusing on my crotch. “What kind of surprise?”

“Let’s call it… a treat.”

Now her brows arch, too. “I think I’m getting an inkling. Inkling . From ink.” She grins. “Got it?”

I bark out a laugh. “Baby, you have no idea what I’m packing down there. You shouldn’t be joking if you did.”

“Let us see, then.”

Slowly, I pull down the zipper, studying her face, but all I see is interest and hunger. I push down my jeans inch by inch, letting her see my hard cock while it’s still caught in the fabric.

I see the moment her eyes widen, as she takes in the extent of my cock piercings, as they are revealed one after another. I ease my dick out and it swings to point at her.

Yeah, this is where some girls freak out and run.

“That’s one tortured cock,” she finally says. Still standing there. Still not running. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Only in the best way,” I growl, grabbing my cock and giving it a stroke. “For both of us.”

Run, run, little Candy girl. Run while you can.

Her eyes are still a little wide but she reaches out to touch. I got a full Jacob’s Ladder on the underside and a heavy Prince Albert through the head, as well as a magic cross. Her fingertips travel over them and my cock hardens more, jerking in her hand.

She lifts her gaze to me and it’s dark with desire. “I want it in me,” she says, her voice throaty. “All of it.”

Fuck, this girl is unhinged. An unhinged doll, pretty and perfect with a darkness in her soul.

I... like it. I like her , way too much.

“Then you shall have it, baby girl,” I vow. “I’ll make it so good, you won’t remember any man before me.”

“Cocky,” she whispers.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Then show me.”

A growl escapes me. What the hell? Never has a girl turned me on so much. She’s dangerous. She’s my muse, my nymph, my star.

I’ll make her scream my name until the whole city knows who is making her come so hard.

“Candy girl,” I whisper, “turn around.”

She blinks, then obeys. She’s wearing a pink dress with white daisies and pink combat boots, and when she turns, I’m torn between unzipping her dress and lifting the hem to see her panties.

Why choose, though, right? I unzip her dress, then lift the hem and stare at her boy shorts, white and covered in red hearts. They hug her heart-shaped ass and bitable thighs perfectly.

So damn bitable. I lick my lips. Well, hot damn. I’ve never had a thing for such undies, I’m more of a black lace kind of guy, but this is so… her.

And I want her so bad it hurts.

I want to see her bra, see her tits, hold them in my hands, but her ass is beckoning. I drag her panties down and she draws a sharp breath.

“Wait,” she whispers, “Ryder…”

“Don’t worry, babe. I promise nothing will happen unless you want it to.”

Does she expect me to ram my pierced cock into her without warning? If that has been her experience with men, I want to hunt them all down and kick them in the balls.

She relaxes a little as I place my hands on her perfect ass. Rounded, soft, feminine. I slowly nudge her legs apart and she tenses again.

“Hands on the wall, girl,” I tell her. “I promise this won’t hurt.”

She dips her head and places her hands on the wall. I guess nobody ever ate her pussy from behind before.

“Good girl,” I breathe. “Such a good girl.”

She’s pink and glistening. My mouth waters. I love eating out girls. Guys, too, on occasion, but I’m big into women. They just do it for me.

I kneel between her spread legs. Maybe this isn’t the best move when you’re with a girl for the first time, but I just can’t resist. I lap at her and the keening sound she produces almost has me coming on the spot.

As sweet as she smells and looks, her pussy is the best dessert I’ve ever had. I dig my tongue into her, use my fingers to stroke her and she shakes, moaning. She gets wetter, her scent rising stronger, deeper. So quickly, she’s close to coming.

So responsive. So open to pleasure.

So of course I pull back before she finds her release. She gasps when I give her one last long lick and get up. “Ryder?”

I wrap an arm around her, straightening her up. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes…”

“Beg. Bet a little, darling. I want to hear you.”

‘Please,” she whimpers, “please, Ryder.”

“Fuck.” I turn her around. She has bitten her lower lip. It’s red and swollen. Her cheeks are flushed. “Want it a little rough? You’re so wet. Are you going into heat, maybe, little omega?”

But her expression shutters. Her eyes suddenly fill with tears as she shakes her head.

What is this? Did I happen to touch the edges of her wound? Her pain cuts into me.

“Let me taste your pain,” I breathe, feeling my control slipping. “Let me taste all of you.”