Page 3 of Ruger (Riders of Retribution #2)

Ruger

I stand outside of Marigold’s room for longer than I care to admit. My cock is hard as a rock from the slight bit of attention she gave me. It was only a kiss on the cheek, but my body is reacting like her lips were around my dick.

I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. Keeping my hands to myself might be fucking impossible.

I’m already walking an extremely thin line here.

I shouldn’t be so attracted to Marigold.

Not only is she my best friend’s little sister whom I’ve been charged with taking care of, she’s damn near half my age.

What the hell could a nineteen year-old want with a thirty-five year-old?

For some twisted reason, the thought of our age difference makes my cock ache. There’s no way that my hard-on is going down on its own. I can’t get my thoughts under control, and even when I try, I only want her more.

My last act of self-restraint is walking at a steady, measured pace to my bedroom. But, as soon as I’m behind a locked door, I’m like an animal. I shove my pants down and wrap my fist around my length.

I barely make it to the edge of the bed. Hell, I even think about getting off right in the middle of the room.

A shiver runs through my entire body as I finally give my length the attention it’s been craving. I don’t bother with a slow buildup, instead going at myself with reckless abandon. All I want is to take care of my boner so I can get my head on straight again.

Unfortunately, my brain wanders to Marigold.

No matter how hard I try to conjure up images of generic pornstars or a faceless babe, I keep seeing her gorgeous green eyes and that dark red hair.

She’s so hauntingly beautiful that I don’t think I’m ever going to get her out of my head even after she’s gone.

My mind is fixated on her plush, pink lips. If I close my eyes, I can see them stretched around my length. I can feel the heat of her mouth. And, when I flick my thumb over my tip, it’s not hard to pretend it’s her tongue.

“Fuck,” I groan, letting my head fall back and my eyes close as I continue to ravage myself.

I’m not an idiot. I know my hand could probably never measure up to the real thing. For that reason, I’m probably going to chase Marigold for her entire life. I need her, the plushness of her mouth, the tightness of her pussy. All of her.

I won’t rest until she’s mine. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.

As precum leaks out of the tip of my length, I wonder how many people she’s been with before.

I’m immediately struck by unfathomable jealousy before remembering how protective Blade was of her.

This girl isn’t allowed to date. She’s kept under lock and key, even if it seems like she has the freedom to do as she pleases.

Fuck… There’s a damn high possibility that Marigold is a virgin. She’s probably never been touched by another man. This beautiful, smart, innocent girl is mine to ruin. All fucking mine.

“Shit,” I curse a little louder than I intended to – not that I have any control over myself right now. I’m acting on pure animal instinct. Marigold’s all I can think about. Protecting her, claiming her, breeding her.

God, I wish I was buried in her pussy right fucking’ now.

My hips thrust up without my permission, meeting each stroke of my fist. If I really think about how she was behaving, her innocence is obvious. She was blushing and practically unable to meet my gaze. It’s adorable.

I could take her first everything. When could she have had time to kiss anyone? Probably never, if Blade had anything to do with it.

He has no fucking idea, but he was saving her for me, shielding her from being touched by anyone else. It was for her own good. No little boys could break her heart or give her shitty, unsatisfying experiences.

I’m going to make sure she has the whole fucking world, even if it’s the last thing I do. Even if it kills me.

With that thought, that declaration and promise to myself, I cum with a gasp. Ropes of it paint my fist and my thighs. My breaths come in short bursts as I continue to stroke myself through it with images of Marigold painted behind my eyelids and etched into my brain.

As quickly as my pleasure crested, it ebbs away. Instead of the tired, warm afterglow I’m used to experiencing, there’s nothing but guilt and a hollow, empty feeling left in my chest. It seems to be directly proportional to the intensity of the orgasm I just experienced.

I fall back on my mattress, staring at the ceiling as I lie there in my own mess. Marigold hasn’t even been under my care for two hours, and I’ve already turned into a sex-crazed beast. If the MC knew, I’d be disciplined. And if Blade knew… I’d be dead.

Usually, I have more self-control than this. Women don’t make me feel like an animal, a wild beast that can’t think about anything but fucking them. It’s not like I’m against the occasional hookup, but I can go without. My right hand and I are well-acquainted at this point.

Marigold’s different, though. I know there’s a connection between us, some thread that connects us. I feel like it’s always been there, just waiting for one of us to find it and tug. For the first time in my life, I want to open up to someone, to let a woman in and let her make a home in my heart.

I’m confident that Marigold’s the only person who will ever make me feel like this.

I’m sitting up, reaching for the tissues on my bedside table, when there’s a knock at my door. As much as I hate to admit it, the sound makes me jump. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot Marigold was just a room over.

God dammit… What if she heard me? How the hell am I going to explain that?

“Ruger?” she asks through the door.

She doesn’t sound freaked out, thank god.

“Everything alright, Marigold?” I ask, doing a damn good job of sounding casual. I should earn some kind of award for this performance.

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” she replies, her sweet voice wrapping around me in a way that’s gotta be sinful. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to make dinner for the two of us, if that’s all right with you. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re tellin’ me you can cook?” I say, continuing with my nonchalant act. There’s no way she knows that I just jerked off thinking about nothing but her. It makes lying to her easier, though the guilt is still bubbling right beneath the surface.

“A little,” she replies, and I can imagine her blushing on the other side of the door. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

“Thanks, Marigold,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face. “You’re the best houseguest I’ve ever had.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who has many houseguests,” she teases, and that tiny bit of brattiness only makes me want her more.

“You got me there,” I reply as I smile despite myself. “I’ll be out to help soon.”

“You don’t have to worry about that; I can manage.”

Then, before I can say anything else, I hear her retreat. I imagine she did it so I wouldn’t have any room to argue. As innocent as she appears to be, Marigold’s got a playful, bold spark in her. I’d love to see more of it.

Actually, I know I’m going to see more of it. I just don’t know how I’m going to rationalize it with Blade and the MC. That’s a problem for later, though. For now, I’ll jerk off as often as it takes to keep my hands to myself. Though I can already tell that’s going to be an issue.

God, I hope I figure out a way to keep myself under control while she stays here.