Page 36 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Rhett

The rest of the reception is a blur. By the time we’re saying goodbye to Aubrey and Ludo and wishing them a happy honeymoon, I can barely focus. Between the pounding music, the flashing lights, and the fact that we’re currently at my sister’s murderer’s wedding, I’m shutting down fast.

The second we step out into the night air, my senses come back to me in phases. First, the cold hits my skin and burns in my throat as I suck in a deep breath. Second, the warmth of Oliver’s hand in mine registers in my brain. When I look over, he’s watching me quietly as we move to Elliot’s SUV. He smiles, and it’s the first truly genuine one of the day.

That’s when the third phase hits—relief mixed with a shred of hope. I hold it close to my heart until we’re shut in the car with me and Oliver in the backseat.

“You have it?”

Elliot asks as he starts the engine.

“Buried in the bottom of my bag.”

Wren says it like she doesn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.

“I almost got caught. God, it was so close. But then Rhett was there, and…”

She turns in her seat to look at me.

“You knew exactly what to do.”

We did it. Fuck, she did it.

“You would’ve managed,”

I say thickly.

“Seatbelt,”

Oliver says, and I don’t realize he’s speaking to me until he reaches across my body and buckles me in.

“What happened?”

Elliot asks as he pulls out of our parking spot and heads for home. He’ll have to turn around in a minute, but just in case we’re being watched or followed, we have to proceed like normal.

As Wren explains everything that went down, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Oliver’s fingers brush against mine on the seat. It’s a question—one he’s asked many times without uttering a single word.

Shakily, I intertwine my fingers with Oliver’s. His thumb rubs over my skin, and I let the touch ground me.

After a minute, Elliot turns us around so we’re heading toward our true destination. Last year, we bought a house closer to Ludo’s home. We weren’t sure if we’d ever need it, but it’s proving useful tonight.

When she’s ready to sneak out, Aubrey will give us the signal, but it’ll be hours from now. It’s only nine thirty, and Ludo doesn’t go to bed until after midnight.

“Aubrey said she’ll hang a red scarf from her balcony when she’s ready,”

Wren says.

“We’ll have to move quickly from there.”

Elliot’s fingers tap against the steering wheel.

“Are we all good to stick with our current plan?”

“Oh, definitely,”

Oliver says, and it may be dark, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

It’s not long before we’re pulling into the garage that’s attached to the house. The two cars we’ll use tonight are already here. One is Finn’s and the other is ours, but neither of them can be traced back to us. If one of Ludo’s men catches a license plate number, it won’t do them much good in finding us.

We pile out of the SUV and into the house. It’s not as large or extravagant as home, but it’s still nice. There isn’t much furniture-wise since we’re rarely here, but there’s a dining room table, a couch or two, and a couple beds upstairs.

After rummaging through her bag, Wren pulls out the hard drive and the safe cracker.

“You want this now?”

“Yes.”

Elliot takes the drive and sits at the table. He brought his laptop over the other day so he could start working on cracking the password tonight. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to break into a device like this, so we already have access to the software to help us.

“I’m gonna shower,”

Wren says.

“Can someone help me with my dress?”

“Of course,” I reply.

We leave Elliot and Oliver in the kitchen. Upstairs, Wren enters the first bathroom she finds and turns on the shower. With a sigh, she faces the mirror and leans against the counter.

“You still doing okay?”

I settle my hands on her hips and catch her gaze in the mirror. She looks exhausted.

“I keep replaying everything in my head,”

she says quietly.

“Part of me wonders if I should’ve let myself get caught and just pretended that I got lost. Heading to the other side of the mansion was reckless. And running into Ludo like that was terrifying. If it hadn’t been for his ego, we’d all be…”

She grimaces.

I’m grateful she doesn’t finish that sentence. With a kiss to the top of her hair, I murmur, “I used to do that, too.”

“Do what?”

“Run through a job we’d just finished and think about everything that could’ve gone wrong. I still catch myself doing it every once in a while. It doesn’t do any good, though.”

Silently, Wren nods. Her gaze falls to the counter in front of her.

“Hey.”

I wait until she’s looking at me again to continue.

“What matters is that you did it. You made a split-second decision, and it ended up working out just fine. We have the hard drive now—because of you.”

She spins around so she’s facing me.

“And because of you. If you hadn’t been there to catch me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

I shake my head.

“You would’ve managed. Ludo is confident in his perception of you. Even on that side of the mansion, I’m sure you could’ve lied your way out of it. Otherwise, Ludo would’ve had to admit he was wrong about you—and he hates admitting he’s wrong.”

At that, a smile forms on her features, even though it’s faint.

“To his detriment.”

I kiss her lightly.

“And to our benefit.”

With a tired smile, she turns around, and I unzip her dress. It falls to the floor, and I take in Wren’s mostly naked body.

“I was right,”

I muse as I lean against the closed door.

“What?”

“The dress. It looks much better on the floor.”

Wren rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t hide her pleased smile.

“Are you joining me?”

“Do you mind?”

She begins unbuttoning my shirt.

“I’d prefer it.”

I empty my pockets, setting everything on the counter before pulling the rest of my clothes off. I was hoping she’d agree. If I don’t wash Ludo off me, my skin will be crawling all night.

The water is blissfully hot, and it warms up the small room quickly. We take turns scrubbing ourselves clean and rinsing the soap from our bodies. Any chance Wren gets, she reaches out and touches me, even if it’s only for a second. I do the same to her.

Ever since Elliot pointed it out a few weeks ago, I’ve noticed that I’ve been able to handle touch more often than not. There are still times when I can’t, and I thought for sure tonight would be one of them, but I guess I was wrong. Not only do I want the comfort that comes along with being touched, but it sends warmth through me instead of cold, hard dread.

I’ve tried, but I can’t pinpoint what exactly has made it easier for me. Maybe adding Wren into our relationship forced me to confront things I was avoiding. Or it could be that we’re finally making solid progress toward putting Sammy’s killer in the ground.

Whatever it is, as I lean down and capture Wren’s mouth in a kiss, I couldn’t be more grateful. I press her into the wall of the shower, and she shudders at the coldness of the tiles against her back.

So much has happened in the past weeks—in the past months. And at every turn, Wren has accepted every part of me. Even the broken, ugly pieces of me that I thought would repulse her or scare her away.

I love you, Wren, and I promise one day I’ll tell you.

The kiss stays gentle and almost tentative until Wren slips her tongue into my mouth. I groan, grabbing onto her hips and stroking her tongue with my own.

My dick is fully hard now, pressed up against her stomach, so I know she feels it. One of her hands falls between us, and she strokes my cock lightly.

My breath catches in my throat. I’ve been craving her touch ever since I pinned her against the wall during the reception. Waiting until now has been torture.

As I groan into Wren’s mouth, I move my hips back to give her more room. She whimpers when I trace my fingers down her body until I reach between her legs. Just as I hoped, she’s wet, and not just from the shower.

Our gazes lock while I stroke her clit. So many emotions are swirling in Wren’s eyes. Her lips part, and for a second, I’m afraid she’s about to say the words I know she’s been holding back for weeks.

Maybe she sees the dread in my eyes, or maybe I just misread her, but she doesn’t say anything. She just moans and leans her head against the wall.

Relief fills me. I kiss her as I gently rub her clit, but the water quickly washes away any natural lubricant, so there’s more friction than I figure is comfortable.

“I need to get you out of this damn shower.”

She reaches over and shuts it off. Water droplets form on her skin, and I watch as they run down her body. Only when her fingertips feather down my chest and stomach do I realize she’s doing the same thing to me.

With a groan, I step out of the shower and grab two towels. I dry myself off quickly, only taking my eyes off Wren when I absolutely have to. She dries herself off more thoroughly, and every movement makes my mouth water.

Gently, she pats at her hairline with her towel. She didn’t want to deal with wet hair this late at night, so she didn’t wash it, but some of it still got wet when she washed her face.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmur.

Her smile lights up the small room, and I tug her closer and press my lips to her neck. When her head falls back and she lets out a soft moan, it only eggs me on. I take her towel and toss it onto the floor before lifting her into my arms and setting her on the counter.

Wren doesn’t wait. With one hand behind her for balance, she wraps the other around my cock and strokes.

“Fuck, just like that, sweetheart.”

I curl two fingers inside of her, and a deep satisfaction comes over me as her eyelids flutter closed.

Wren moans as I use my thumb on her clit. She does her best to sit up and bring her lips closer to mine, and I’m happy to lean down and meet her. My free hand cups the back of her head, and I fuse my mouth to hers in a hard, controlling kiss.

I add more pressure with my fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from Wren. Fuck yes. I want all her attention right now. I want all of her.

We continue just like that until she comes all over my fingers. Her little whimpers cause my dick to grow impossibly harder. Just as I’m about to remove her hand so this doesn’t end before I want it to, she breaks off our kiss.

Wren moves her hand away herself as she searches the counter. My confusion only grows as I hear the clatter of metal.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

I curl my fingers into her again.

With a groan, Wren turns back to face me. My knife is in her hand, and she presses it into my palm.

“Show me I belong to you,”

she whispers.

“Show me I’m yours.”

I swear, my heart actually skips a beat. As I close my fingers around the knife, I search her eyes, unsure of what I’m even looking for. I figured we’d reach this point eventually. Oliver told me about her discovering his scar and how eager she looked.

“I can take it,”

she says, sensing my hesitation.

I open the knife, watching her eyes flare as she takes it in. Slowly, I move it closer, until the flat of the blade is resting against her collarbone. She doesn’t move—barely breathes—but her face lights up.

“You want my mark on you, sweetheart?”

I ask lowly. Making sure not to cut her, I move the knife down her chest.

Her nod is sincere.

“I need it.”

Stepping back, I look her over. She really, truly seems to want this, so I grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the closet behind me. While I clean the knife, Wren watches with fascination.

“Do you have a preference for where?”

I ask her.

“Ummm.”

She looks over her body before her fingers graze over the top of her thigh. “Here?”

“And you’re sure? It’ll hurt.”

“I want it.”

She adjusts herself so she’s sitting in a more stable position.

“And I trust you.”

I watch her for a second, waiting for the fear to show up in her eyes, but it never comes. After a deep breath, I kiss her gently. Her trust is a gift. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it, but she’s given it to me regardless.

“Make sure you stay still,”

I tell her as I hold her leg down with one hand.

Wren gasps as the blade breaks her skin, but she doesn’t flinch. I don’t cut deeply—in fact, I keep it as shallow as possible. The knife is sharp enough that as I carve a small heart into her skin, I barely have to apply any pressure. It most likely won’t scar, but I think for her first time, that’s probably for the best.

Blood wells from the cut and runs down her leg. Once I’m finished, I set the knife on the other side of the sink. Wren is staring at her thigh, and her lips are slightly curved upward in a satisfied smile.

“It’s perfect,”

she whispers.

I lick up some of the blood before it drips onto the counter. Then Wren tugs me up, pulling me into a wordless kiss that sends a shudder through my body. When she pulls away, her gaze drops to her cut again, and she swipes a finger over the trail of blood.

Before I can ask her what she’s doing, she gently traces a small heart on my bare chest. Her voice is soft as she looks up at me and says, “Now you have my mark, too.”

My heart races as she leans in and kisses the spot right next to the little drawing. Never in a million years would I have expected Wren would do something like that, but she wants it just as much as I do.

“Sweetheart,”

I murmur as I cup her cheek. I’m at a loss for words, so all I can do is stare at her and hope she understands what I wish I could say.

When her hand wraps around my dick, I lower my gaze to watch. As she strokes, I groan. There was still a little blood on her finger, and now it’s on my cock.

“Fuck me,”

she whispers.

“Now, Rhett.”

After sliding into her, I take hold of her legs and spread them farther open. Wren moans as I bottom out inside of her. I hold myself there for a second and press my lips to her forehead. We’ve barely started, but I’m already breathing hard.

“Wren.”

Her name is heavy on my tongue. This close to her, my thighs are pressed against hers. When I pull out, blood covers a patch of my skin. I slam into her again, groaning at the sight.

Wren’s cry echoes through the room as she grabs onto my shoulder. I press small circles to her clit with my thumb. Her eyes flutter closed, and she tips her head back with a blissful expression on her face.

“My beautiful whore,” I murmur.

Wren gasps for air as she clings to me. I grab her jaw, keeping it open as I lean down and spit on her tongue. Her eyes fly open, and I thrust into her harder as she swallows.

“Such a good girl,”

I tell her.

When Wren comes, she pulls me with her, and I capture her cries in a heated, hazy kiss. My mind goes blank for a second, and when we break off the kiss, it takes a moment for me to catch my breath.

Wren’s eyes are bright as she watches me pull out of her. Her hand runs down my arm as my gaze snags on the blood still on her thigh. For the most part, the heart I carved into her leg has stopped bleeding, but we can’t leave it like that.

I give myself a minute before opening the cabinet below the sink and pulling out one of the many first aid kits we have stashed throughout the house.

“We need to deal with your cut. Don’t want it getting infected.”

Wren stays quiet while I wipe up the blood and clean the cut. By the time I’m done bandaging it, she’s back to taking deep, even breaths.

“I liked that,”

she says when I step back.

“Liked what?”

“Everything. The way you cut into me, how it felt, what it means…”

Her fingers trace around the bandage before she lifts her gaze to meet mine.

“It felt special. Important. Like I really do belong to you.”

“Or—”

The words catch in my throat.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I give her a smile before helping her off the counter, but the words continue echoing in my mind.

Or that I belong to you.

***

By the time Elliot breaks into the hard drive, we need to head back to Ludo’s mansion. Our plan only requires one of us plus Finn, but having backup never hurts. Elliot and Oliver both leave together in the first car, and Wren and I follow farther behind in the second.

Finn is already there when we get into our positions just after midnight. Ell and O are parked on the service road that runs on the side of Ludo’s property, and Finn is a couple houses down on the main road. We’re behind him, which is where we’ll stay unless we’re needed.

Now it’s a waiting game. Ludo should be in bed, and according to Aubrey, there should be a shift change soon. Once it’s underway, she’ll notify Elliot and Oliver, and they’ll notify us.

Wren jumps when Finn’s voice comes through our earpieces.

“Anything yet?” he asks.

“Nothing,”

Elliot replies.

I glance down the street, but it doesn’t reveal anything. The stone wall surrounding Ludo’s property is too tall for me to see.

“What if they already had their shift change?”

Wren asks me.

“Aubrey would’ve found a way to tell us.”

The wait is torture, but after another half hour, Elliot says, “She just hung the scarf from her balcony. Finn, you ready?”

“Absolutely.”

I barely hear the low rumble of Finn’s vehicle starting. He keeps his lights off as we watch the driveway’s gate carefully. Once it opens, a car’s headlights shine through—from one of Ludo’s men heading home for the night—and Finn takes off.

Just as the car is halfway through the gate, Finn slams straight into it. Wren cringes at the sound of crunching metal and breaking glass.

For a few seconds, nothing happens, and I’m worried Finn misjudged his pace. But his passenger door opens, and when he climbs out, he looks relatively unharmed. His shoulder will probably be sore tomorrow and he might have a mild case of whiplash, but he’ll be fine.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Finn shouts as he gestures toward his vehicle.

“Have you never heard of looking both ways?”

The other guy gets out just as some of Ludo’s men run over to the gate. Relief floods me when I count four extra men. Just as we hoped, they all rushed to the scene.

“What happened?”

one of them asks.

“Are you okay?”

“He just… he came out of nowhere. I don’t know how I missed you, man.”

“Don’t know how you missed me?”

Finn yells.

“Look at the front of my car. This is thousands of dollars of damage! That’s the best you’ve got?”

“He’s really laying it on thick,”

Wren mutters.

“The angrier he is, the more distracted everyone will get,” I say.

Something of a yelling match ensues. A couple lights turn on in the house, and after a few minutes, a tall figure marches through the gate. Axel.

“What the hell are you doing?”

he snaps to the guys surrounding the cars.

“No one’s watching the back of the house if all four of you are standing around up here.”

“Oh—right. Sorry, sir.”

“You two, start cleaning up all this glass. And you two, get back to your posts. Now.”

All four men scramble to obey.

I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s barely been five minutes. In theory, it’s enough time, but Oliver is supposed to let us know when they’re on their way back to the house.

“You’ve got two guys heading toward the back of the house,”

I say into the little mic clipped onto my coat.

“Is Aubrey in the clear yet?”

As we wait for a response, Axel and Finn size each other up. This is the moment I’ve been worried about the most. Finn runs in different circles than us, so we were mostly sure Ludo’s men wouldn’t recognize him. Axel is the most likely to.

“We can get insurance companies involved if you’d prefer,”

Axel says, his voice lacking recognition, “or we can handle this off the record.”

“I’m not paying a fucking dime,”

Finn growls.

“This idiot pulled out right in front of me.”

Axel turns to the other driver.

“Is that true?”

“I… I guess, yeah. Sorry, sir.”

Why isn’t anyone answering?

Wren is giving me a look of absolute terror when Oliver’s voice finally comes through.

“Just got to the car,”

he says while panting.

“Heading back to the house now.”

“Thank god,”

Wren whispers as she slouches in her seat.

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“We’ll join you soon.”