Page 61 of Ruin

He barks, “No, do it harder. Harder.Harder.”

Every time he says the word, he thrusts into me again, this new angle hitting a spot deep inside me that I didn’t know existed, a spot that triggers a warmth that wraps around me like a blanket. I grab his hair with both hands, binding my gaze to his as he drives into me.

Out of nowhere, an orgasm explodes through me like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It shatters my core, shooting out into every inch of me and beyond. My hips buck of their own accord, and I’m screaming again, though this time from the sheer overwhelming ecstasy of this earth-shattering new kind of orgasm. The pain is still there, searing and red hot, but now it’s braided with a deep and gratifying euphoria, and I’m gone.

“Fuck, Gi.” Tommy’s tone is guttural, urgent. He grips my jaw and pulls me back, our eyes locked onto each other.

I’m chanting his name softly like a prayer as the orgasm echoes through me, sobbing from pain and exhaustion and ecstasy, as he fucks me, possesses me, owns me.

“Holy fuck, Gi. Fuck. Gi.” He grips me, bruises me, pushes deep inside. I scream as his cock thickens and pulses as he fills me to overflowing, my name on his lips as he snaps his hips violently with each pulse.

When his body finally quiets, he squeezes me to him, burying his face in my neck, kissing me softly and whispering his love for me, his cock still inside me. My legs are limp, mywhole body weak, our skin slick with rain. I wind my arms around his neck, stroking his hair as he carries me through the parking lot.

Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention, and I turn my head, resting my cheek on Tommy’s shoulder. Antonio is standing at the back door of the restaurant surrounded by the kitchen staff. His face is red; his jaw hangs open. He snaps his mouth closed when we make eye contact and turns, shoving through the small crowd to get back into the restaurant.

I am numb.

I press my face against Tommy’s shoulder, smelling his skin, feeling his warm breath on me, completely consumed. This is where I belong.

“Take me home, daddy,” I say softly.

He squeezes me tighter. “As long as we’re together, sweet girl, we’re always home.”

24

Tommy

Icarry her through the lobby at Dragovari Tower, dripping and bare under my hoodie, limp in my arms. I’m wet, shirtless, and covered in both Giovanna’s blood and my own.

Eleanor, Matti’s CEO of Dragovari Tower, a woman with gray hair and steely eyes, hurries over to me in concern. “Is there anything I can do to assist you, sir?”

“No.”

“Perhaps the young lady? Should I send for a doctor?”

“No.”

She falls back, and no one follows us onto the elevator.

Once I have her safely in my suite, I sit on the couch with her in my arms. She’s not asleep but delirious and resting, and I watch her silently. I memorize the way her wet locks of hair stick to her skin, the soft rise and fall of her chest under my hoodie, the smear of dark blood where I touched her cheek after she bled on my cock.

When she opens her eyes, over an hour has passed, and she smiles up at me. “Hi.”

I can’t help but smile back. “Hi, sweet girl.”

I stand with her and carry her into the bathroom, setting her down on the counter while I turn on the shower and get the water to the right temperature.

She watches me dreamily, then holds her arms up as I pull my hoodie off her. Underneath, she is naked except for her boots, her inner thighs streaked with blood and cum. A rumble rolls in my chest at the sight, and I can’t resist kneeling between her thighs. I press her open wide and slowly drag my tongue over her sensitive skin.

She moans softly, watching me, those big hazel eyes shimmering with flecks of green and gold. Growling, I clean her, tasting the salty, coppery mixture of her blood and my cum. Tasting us.

I unlace her boots and pull them off, and she winces as she slides off the counter and stands. I start to lead her to the shower, but she stops me and unbuckles my pants, squatting as she pulls them down along with my boxer briefs.

I’m semi-hard watching her naked, undressing me, exploring my body. “Is all that me?” she asks, gently touching the rust-colored streaks on my cock.

“Yes, baby. All you,” I turn to show her my back then point to my chest where she clawed me. “This is all me,” I laugh softly.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, clapping her hand to her mouth, standing up. She runs her fingers lightly over where she carved into me. “I’m so sorry, Tommy. I hope I didn’t fuck up your tattoo.”