Page 28 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

ANGéLICA

G reyson is my demon. The truth has been staring me in the face for six months, and I never fucking saw it.

Aftershocks from my mind-blowing orgasm are flickering through my body like bursts of electricity.

I can still feel his throbbing cock inside me, and from the swollen thickness of it, I’m half-convinced he could go another round already.

Everything aches in the sweetest way, and most of me is covered in blood—my own indistinguishable from his. What we just did was insane and fucked-up and unhinged, but it was also the best sex I’ve had in my life. Well, apart from one other time on the last night of October.

“That was you on Halloween,” I remark, not sure if I believe my own words or not. I try to dismount him, but he captures my hips and forces me back down before I can slip off his cock.

“I’m disappointed it took you so long. I’d like to think my cock is more memorable than that.” He thrusts deeper into me, and I whimper when he drags his piercings over my sensitive, spasming core.

I ignore the way my needy pussy begs for another fucking and glare down at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why leave me in the dark for months?”

He smirks at me, and it tempts me to make him bleed a bit more. “It was more fun to punish you every day and make you wonder why.”

Fucking sadist. “I still don’t understand why you’ve been obsessed with making my life miserable since Halloween.” His crystalline eyes flare with an overwhelming darkness that sends shivers down my spine.

“Because I know what you sound like when you come with my blade under your skin, angel. That sound has tormented my thoughts and memories ever since you let me be your demon for one night.” Suddenly I’m lying on my back, his body pressed against me, his stormy eyes and swollen lips a few inches from my face.

His cock is still buried deep inside me, and he reminds me with a sharp punch of his hips that has me crying out.

“You left before I could tell you that you were everything I ever fucking wanted ,” he growls, each of the last words punctuated with almost cruel stabs of his thick cock.

“Then you come into my kitchen every day and torment me with what I can’t have.

” He strokes his blood-covered fingers down the side of my cheek, the act tender in spite of the way he continues to pound into me like he’s still punishing me.

“Do you ruin my sanity on purpose, angel? Or are you hell-sent to be my downfall without even trying?”

“I never tried to hurt you,” I gasp, the words strained as another orgasm starts to build against my will. “I didn’t think you’d care that I left that night.”

“Of course I cared, Angélica,” he snarls.

His thrusts grow faster, harder, and I’m clinging to the thinnest edge of sanity.

“You let me tear you apart, but you never let me kiss and bandage your cuts. Never let me ask you your name. I spent a week thinking you’d probably bled out or contracted an infection or been murdered while walking home alone at night.

I was a goddamn wreck until you showed up in my office looking alive and well and better than ever. ”

His hand slips from my cheek to my throat, toying with how much pressure he can give me before I pass out.

Each time my vision starts to fade, he lets up before starting to squeeze again.

The steady rhythm of it leaves me hazy and high.

“Was it really so terrible that you had to run away without a word?” he rasps, the sound of his voice dim below the soft ringing in my ears.

“No,” I mumble, my lips and tongue leadened.

His hold on my neck loosens for a moment. “Speak up, angel.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I answer honestly. I wish he’d let me pass out before I reveal what I truly felt that night.

“Then why leave?”

Mierda . I don’t want to do this. I’ve kept this hidden inside me for six months, and Greyson is the very last person I want to tell.

I lean into his hold, begging the darkness to take over.

Instead, he trails his fingers up to my jaw and forces me to look at him.

I want to pull away from the furious heat in his gaze, but I can’t rip myself from his iron grasp.

“ Why , Angélica?”

The words are a command, and my lips betray me before I can stop them. “Because that was the best night of my life before tonight, and I’ve never been so fucking terrified.”

“I thought nothing scared you.”

Christ, he remembers everything from Halloween. All these months, he’s been telling me it’s him, and I didn’t even notice. “ You scare me,” I whisper.

He flinches, hearing my words as an accusation and not the true declaration that they are. “Because I cut you and stuffed you with a knife?”

“No.” I feel a sharp prick of wetness at the backs of my eyes, but I shove it away before it can betray my weakness.

“Because you made all the noise in my head quiet just enough for me to exist for a moment without the weight of all the other shit suffocating me. Even as you hurt me and choked me, you helped me breathe for the first time in years.” I swallow hard before continuing, “The way you made me feel—well, I trusted that less than any lie. So I panicked and ran because that night was too perfect to be real.”

“Oh it was real, angel. I have a scar on my hand to prove it.”

He holds up his right hand, cuts and dried blood decorating his fingers.

But I barely notice any of the other gore; my eyes are fixed on a long, pink scar that runs the length of his palm.

Realization floods my thoughts like ice water.

His bandage in the interview, when I thought I was meeting him for the first time.

I asked him about it without ever considering the connection to Halloween night.

I thought I ran from my demon, but he’s been here all along, tormenting me and driving me mad every single day.

“Still being reckless, chef?” I ask with a smile, remembering his excuse for the bandage.

He matches my smile as he bends down to press a scorching kiss against my lips. “I think it’s fair to say I’ll never be anything but reckless when I’m around you, pretty little ruin.”

Heat bursts across every inch of my skin when he uses the nickname he gave me on Halloween. “Any regrets?” I gasp when he starts to move again, his piercings hitting that perfect spot curled deep inside me.

“Not a single goddamn one,” he growls, his pace turning brutal. “Now soak my cock again so I can get you cleaned up.”

It doesn’t take long before I’m screaming, the violent stabs of his cock shoving me into an abyss of absolute bliss.

“ Grey ,” I moan, the soft word a plea as I fracture over and over.

He follows right after, bathing my insides in another warm explosion of cum that doesn’t even seem possible given how much he stuffed me the first time.

I’m going to be cleaning his cream out of my pussy for fucking days.

After he’s spent, he rolls onto his back beside me, his chest heaving just as much as mine. He runs his thumb over his lips, his expression thoughtful. When he turns toward me, his eyes are the most vivid shade of blue. “How do you feel?” he asks. “Now that you know?”

“Like you should have told me who you were from the very beginning so we could have been fucking like this for the past six months.” I scowl at him in spite of how beautiful and freshly-fucked he looks right now.

I see the exact moment he realizes what an idiot he’s been. “Yeah, I didn’t think that through.” He leans over and kisses me harshly before nipping at my lips with his teeth. “Sorry for being a vengeful twat.”

“See, that apology I actually believe,” I answer with a laugh, smacking him against the chest. He groans when my fingers graze one of the deeper cuts I gave him.

“I liked you better when you were talking about how much I scared you,” he grumbles, rubbing at his sore chest. When his fingers come away with fresh blood, he rolls his eyes and announces, “Time for a shower, vicious thing.”

“Hey, you promised me dinner,” I argue, a shower sounding far less appealing than the filet mignon and scallops I saw in his fridge earlier. After two rounds of sex and an unknown amount of blood loss, I’m practically starving.

“Don’t worry, angel. I won’t let you go hungry. Just need to clean up my mess first.”

He trails his fingers over all the blood and cuts I have etched into my body.

There’s likely glass embedded beneath the skin that’ll be a nightmare to remove.

All in all, I probably look like a horror film come to life.

He drags his tongue over my lips, licking away the dried blood before biting down hard enough to break the skin again.

When he pulls away, his crystalline eyes shine brighter than ever.

“Prettiest fucking ruin I’ve ever seen.”