Page 12 of His to Ruin
“Look at you,” I purr, leaning over him, my lips brushing his ear. “Fucked open on my cock, moaning like a little slut. Do you even realize how perfect you are?”
He makes a noise of protest, as if his mind wants to deny it, but his body doesn’t lie. I reach down, gripping his throat and tilting his head back so I can watch the ruin painted across his flushed face. Lust-glazed eyes. Swollen lips. Sweat-dampened hair sticking to his forehead.
Mine.
A black tendril of shadow snakes down his stomach, curling around his cock and pulsing with the rhythm of my thrusts. His whole body spasms at the added sensation, a desperate cry ripping from his throat. His fingers dig into the sheets beneath him.
“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” I whisperagainst his sweat-slicked skin. “Without me even touching you properly. That’s how much your body craves this reckoning.”
His response is nothing but a broken moan, his back arching, his thighs trembling as the tension coils impossibly tight inside him. My grip tightens on his throat, not enough to take his air, just enough to make sure he feels it—feels me, everywhere, surrounding him, owning him.
The shadow wrapped around his cock pulses once, twice—then he shatters.
Christian comes with a strangled, wrecked sound, his body seizing beneath me as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. His head tilts back exposing the vulnerable line of his throat, his lips parted, breathless. My shadows hold him there, cradling him through it, milking every last tremor from his body until he’s nothing but soft, pliant wreckage beneath me.
Only then do I let myself follow, spilling inside him with a guttural growl as my hands grip his hips hard enough to bruise. For a moment, the world is nothing but ragged breaths and the heady scent of sweat and sex.
Christian is boneless beneath me, his body still trembling in the aftershocks, his breaths slow and uneven. I keep him pressed against me, unwilling to let him drift too far. My shadows are already moving—cleaning him and soothing the marks I left behind, stroking over his skin like invisible hands still hungry for him.
He sighs, content and melting into my touch as I draw lazy patterns down his spine. My shadows tuck the sheets around us, keeping him warm even as his body shivers from overstimulation. I pull him rightly against me, his back to my front, and run my fingers through his damp hair. He stiffens, clearly uncertain for a moment.
“Relax, Little Nightmare, I’m not going to now consumeyour flesh and feast on your entrails. I’ve had my fill of eating you … for now.”
My shadows curl around him, hugging him and comforting him. It takes him a moment before I feel him relax and give in. I growl in pleasure as I curl up with my human. For the first time in what feels like forever, I am not drowning in hunger.
Fuck, I’ve become a domesticated monster.
Christian hums sleepily, his lips brushing against my unnaturally hued skin as he lays a soft kiss on my arm. “You’re weirdly … gentle for a demon.”
I chuckle, the sound low and satisfied. “You’re mine. I take care of what’s mine.”
His fingers trace absentmindedly over my corded forearm that’s bound around him, following the ridges of my muscles. His touch is light but possessive. It stirs something dark and pleased inside me. “Your shadows…” he murmurs. “They move like they have a mind of their own.”
“They do,” I say, watching as one curls lazily around his wrist, like a cat winding itself around his body. Christian watches, entranced, flexing his fingers as if testing its weight.
“They … like me?” he asks, a little uncertain, but I can hear the curiosity in his voice.
I smirk, resting my chin on the top of his head. “They adore you.” I drag my fingers down the column of his neck and across his shoulder, feeling the way his body reacts so sensitively. “They’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You should hear how they whisper about you.”
Christian shivers, glancing at the shadows wrapped around his wrist, coiling between his fingers like they’re fascinated by him. “What do they say?”
I exhale a laugh. “They tell me you’re soft, that you taste sweet, that they want to wrap around you until you’re drippingin me.” I let my teeth graze his ear. “That they want to mark you the way I have.”
His breath hitches, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he watches the way the shadows move over his skin, thoughtful. “They’re kind of … comforting,” he admits after a beat.
A pleased growl rumbles in my chest. “They’ll always protect you.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, nuzzling against me. “Even from my shitty ex?”
My grin is sharp. “Especially from him.”
Christian sighs, relaxed, the haze of exhaustion creeping in. “Good,” he mutters sleepily. “Because I think I like them too.”
I let my shadows cradle him as he drifts off, their quiet purring filling the space between us. And as I hold him with his warmth pressed against mine, I think—if I were capable of feeling human things, this might be what peace feels like.
9
CHRISTIAN