Page 22 of Heartfelt Pain (Ruling Love #3)

“It’ s in your hand.”

She tightens her grip on it. Before she whirls away, she quietly says, “You should check on, Ren.”

One of Trevino’s men acts as the doorman in Ren’s building. He eyes me up but doesn’t stop me from going up. It’s a good enough sign.

Almost every night this week, Trevino and his men, have had the pleasure of seeing me crawling to Ren. I don’t like to think about what state they see me in when I leave.

Ren’s grown to be a vicious little thing and I love it while simultaneously needing more.

I’m not interested in skulking in at night after she texts me. I want the privilege of showing up whenever I want.

And tonight I’m not in the mood for waiting for a come hither text.

Every single message I’ve sent has gone unanswered. She didn’t pick up when I called.

Something’s wrong and I’m going to figure it out. I don’t give a fuck if she thinks her bratty attitude is going to save her.

She takes a full minute to answer the door when I knock. I listen to her feet behind the door like she’s debating.

“Ren.”

She must hear the warning in my voice because the door opens. She’s got on the tiniest pair of lacy shorts and a silk camisole.

I suck in a breath, taking in every inch of her.

Rolling her eyes, she turns away, opening the door wider. “Why are you here?”

“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

I throw my jacket on the end of her couch. There’s a pile of shoes right by the doorway and the trash is overflowing. I’m not clinical like Max, but it surprises me how messy she lets the place get. Ren’s not a neat freak, but she’s not lazy either.

She puts hours into her appearance. It surprised me the first time I slept over and her alarm went off at five in the morning. She sat up, checking her phone before showering.

I’m not saying Ren didn’t care about her appearance when I first met her, but she’s robotic in her morning routine. Her underwear costs more than her entire wardrobe did when she first moved to the city.

She’s fucking gorgeous, but the Ren I knew, hit snooze three times before dragging herself out of bed.

The TV is off and the living room is dark. I step over a pile of her clothes on the floor.

“Ren,” I prompt when she doesn’t answer. “Why aren’t you answering my texts?”

“I’m not in the mood.” She heads for her bedroom. “Go away, Roma.”

I grab her elbow, pulling her back to my chest. “What happened today?”

She frowns. “Nothing. What are you talking about?”

“You’re a fucking liar,” I call her out. She squirms out of my grasp. “You left Sailor’s birthday party early. I know something happened.”

She grows guarded. “Did someone say something?”

“Did something happen with the girls?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m so fucking sick of everyone refusing to answer my questions.” Our chests touch and she tries to back up an inch. My arm wraps around her waist. “Hellcat, I know something happened. Please tell me.”

The nickname pisses her off. She put out this ridiculous rule that I can’t call her anything but her real name. But to me, she’s always been my hellcat.

“It’s not your business.” She shoves my chest away. I don’t move an inch. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for your cock. Go away, Roma.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m tired and overworked.” The words come with a bitter sarcastic tinge.

I don’t understand, though. “Are you?”

She lets out an irritated sigh. “Not you too.”

“Did somebody say that?” It’s obvious how busy she stays and she gets up at five in the morning. I don’t normally receive a text until about nine or ten at night and I know she hasn’t been home that long before I come over. “I mean you don’t really sleep that much.”

This time she shoves so hard that I rock back on my heels. My jaw clenches but my dick stirs. God, I love her anger.

“Fuck off, Roma.”

I cup her cheek. “If you’re tired and overworked, I could help you, you know.”

She smiles sweetly. Sarcastically. Ren is nothing but bitter edges these days. “No, you can’t, Roma. I’m not really interested in how good of a boy you’ve been today.”

She’s pressed into the wall before she can understand it.

“I’m not really interested,” I whisper into her ear, “in how much of a good boy I’ve been today either.”

“Roma.” She tries to elbow me.

“Hellcat.”

The little growl she lets out is cute. “Fuck you, Roma!”

A dark chuckle cracks my chest. My hand cups her pussy and her feet shuffle. There’s nowhere to move with my chest against her back and her breasts pushed into the wall. My erection digs into her back.

“You’ve gotten awfully mouthy, hellcat.”

“Roma,” she warns again. She doesn’t want to concede her control, but it’s only fair .

“Even good boys need to play a little.” I nip the shell of her ear.

This time my name is a whimper. “Roma. . .”

“You’re fucking soaked, hellcat. Have you been missing me?” I rock into her again, her body tensing. “Here let me rub you like you did me.”

The palm of my hand grinds into her pussy through the wet cloth of her underwear. She rocks against my hand.

“Just like that,” I croon. “Ride my hand, hellcat.”

“Stop it,” Ren cries just as she grinds against me again.

“That’s my little slut.” I push the hair off her neck, kissing her throat. “My good little slut.”

A strangled noise catches in her throat.

“It’s okay,” I soothe with false sincerity. My inner beast claws at me, telling me to destroy her from the inside out. “I know you need more.”

“Roma. . .” She pushes back against me. She yelps when my palm slaps her cunt. And then she nearly sobs when I go back to rubbing her pussy.

“What was it that you called me that day?” I ask lovingly into her ear. “Pain slut?” I slap her again and she does her best to muffle her moan. “I think my little slut might be one too.”

“I am not!”

My chest rumbles with laughter. “Open your legs wider,” I order. I shove her underwear to the side. She’s coated with arousal and I smear it before shoving three fingers into her cunt.

If her cheek wasn’t already smashed against the wall, she’d fall forward. My intent was never to go easy on her and I don’t.

Three fingers pump in and out. My cock strains against her, thickening at every little moan she makes.

“Roma. . .”

“Let it out, hellcat,” I tell her. “Take what you need while I’m offering it because we have a few lessons to learn tonight. ”

My words have her brow furrowing. It’d be a cute little temper tantrum if she didn’t get distracted by her release.

My thumb presses against her swollen clit. Her walls clench around my fingers.

I press a kiss to her temple. “Good girl, hellcat.”

She whimpers. “Stop it.”

I kiss her temple again. “This is only the beginning.”

She rears back, fighting with herself. I let her go, watching her stumble to her room.

“You do not get to fuck me!” Green eyes glitter and I do everything to memorize her in this moment. Tears on her face, her arousal oozing down her upper thighs.

“Don’t get to fuck you?” I ask, shoving my hands in my pockets. It’s a miracle I can breathe right now with how hard I am. “What do you think’s been happening the past week?”

Red paints her cheeks. “I fuck you!” She jabs a finger into my chest before turning away. Like she can’t face me.

And she probably can’t. Because then she’d also have to face the truth. She’s not as in control as she thinks.

I tear off my shirt. “We fuck one another.”

“Do not take your clothes off!” she orders.

I hold my arms out. “By all means if you want to be the one to tear off my clothes, hellcat, do it.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” She whirls back around and shoves my chest.

I grab her forearms. “You need a little fight, Ren. Is that what you need? Use your fucking words and tell me you want to fight for this.”

The words strike her.

“I’m not fighting for this.” She steps back.

I unzip my jeans, sliding them down. She eyes the way my cock tents my underwear. I pull them down, freeing my erection.

“No?” I question. “So you’re not going to claw at me when I shove you down and tear into your cunt like you like? Like you’ve done all week.”

Her entire face frowns, her eyes roving around like she doesn’t understand.

“We’re fucking one another,” I tell her, “because we still love one another.”

The last time I saw her this horrified, I’d admitted I tried to make her fall in love with me because my dad asked me to.

“I hate you,” she whispers. A reminder to herself.

“If you hated me you’d cut off my cock like you threatened the other day.” Ren doesn’t take shit from anyone anymore. I’m not any different.

She grabbed me that night in the cab. Shoved my fingers into her cunt. She rode my hand and took from me what she could because she wanted to.

And I’m helpless like always when it comes to her. She can be a monster and have me on my knees, but sometimes my beast demands a little bit more.

I catch her waist and toss her on the bed.

“I don’t love you,” she says, fire in her eyes.

I crawl over her body, pushing her shirt off. “Yes, you do.”

“Fucking you was just a mistake.”

I place a kiss on her lips. They taste like salt from all the tears. “No, it wasn’t.”

My cock teases her entrance and she sucks in a shaky breath.

“Roma. . .”

I kiss the corner of her mouth. Her cheek. Her forehead. I run my hand through her hair, pushing it off her sticky skin.

“I’ve been a good boy, hellcat.” My breath against her skin makes her shudder.

I thrust all the way in, smothering her scream with my mouth .

“Fuck your stupid kisses!” she shouts, shoving me away.

I laugh and it only pisses her off more. But that’s my woman. All hard edges and brutal choices. Angry green eyes stare up at me as her hips thrust up to meet mine.

It’s a dare. A challenge.

Her hips rock and I thrust in harder and harder.

I roll over. The sound she makes when I take her hips and shove her down on my cock again nearly makes me come.

“Ride me,” I order, but it’s my hands forcing her movements. Her legs shake, but I force her up and down, her pussy stretching around my cock. I slap her ass for good measure. “You’re such a good girl, riding me like the little whore you are.”

She’s done it all week. And the fury in her eyes tells me she knows what I’m doing. Proving the point that I might’ve gone along with everything she’s wanted since I first found her at Hartright’s but it’s not going to be the case anymore.

She doesn’t last long. Her pussy clenches around my dick. She sags forward, but my hands cage her waist, forcing her upright. She bites down on her lower lip, tears spilling as she’s forced to continue riding me.

At least until I switch positions. I throw her back onto the bed, slamming my cock back into her cunt. Her back arches, her eyes glittering. I thrust faster and harder, moving to wrap her leg around my waist.

Her hair cascades around her and her hands push at my chest. When I slap them away they land on the bed and she doesn’t move them. Her round tits move with the force of my thrusts as I continue to punish her.

She lies there, eyes angry, cheeks flushed. My perfect goddess.

Her lips part before she can try to restrain her moan when I rub her clit. Her hands form fists as she comes again, biting back her noisy whimpers. I fill her up, my semen coating her insides as I ride my climax.

Her chest moves, the pair of us trying to catch our breaths.

She shoves her hands hard against my chest, forcing our bodies to untangle. I stumble off the bed.

“Get out!” She slams the bathroom door behind her.