Page 31 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

The moment she starts to lean into my touch and beg for more, I pull away.

The rage pounding in my blood has cooled slightly, but the need for violence is still a steady hum in my veins, pushing me onward.

I step away, my fists clenching with the need to draw more pain from my perfect little victim.

Without stopping to think, I pull the first thing my hand touches from the rack and stalk toward the bed.

Angélica looks thoroughly brutalized already, so I fling the stinging leather throngs at her ass with moderate strength.

By my standards, I’m taking it easy on her.

I rotate my wrist in a figure eight motion, hitting her with a steady stream of blows that heat her skin all over.

“Guess,” I demand, quickening the pace as her silence drags on.

“Flogger.” She sounds as though she’s in a trance, her voice soft and calm as her body submits gracefully to the assault I’m raining down on her.

She loves this. She’s dragged more toward pleasure than pain with every lash of the flogger, and she rises on her tiptoes as arousal ripples through her body.

I pull back before she can go over the edge, and she sags against the bed with the loss of her orgasm .

“ Hijo de puta ,” she sighs into the sheets, so low I can barely hear her. But I do hear her, and I have every intention of punishing her for it.

She’s made three correct guesses so far, and I don’t want this game to end too quickly. I need to hurt her more , so I decide to test her with something a little more difficult. After returning the flogger to the wall, I bypass my usual implements and stride toward the kitchen.

I flip through the drawers until I find exactly what I’m looking for. I toss the dual-sided meat tenderizer in my hand, testing the weight of it. This one is really going to bruise.

“Ready, angel?” I call, swinging the metal mallet in the air.

Because I’m kind, I hit her with the flat side of the tenderizer.

At first, anyway. It slams into her ass with a brutal thud , bruising instantly.

“What’s your guess?” I pummel the left side of her ass so the bruising matches her right side.

I love symmetry, especially when it’s painted with pain.

“ Mierda ,” she grits while trying to shake away the pain by wriggling from side to side. “A fucking hammer?”

“Aww, so close,” I tut with mock sympathy.

I hit her again, flipping the handle so that the spiked end punches into her poor, tender ass.

Maybe I’m not so nice after all. She jumps the instant it makes contact, her lungs filling with a full-bodied shriek as her legs shake beneath the pain that sinks deep into her muscles.

“A meat tenderizer, you goddamn psycho?” she accuses, and I’m fairly certain she’s starting to rethink walking into this arrangement willingly.

It’s not as though I didn’t warn her. I think it’s only fair she suffers for refusing to run when I told her to. She wanted to play with a monster—so she’ll just have to scream and cry until the bloodlust is sated.

“I wasn’t aware you had any limits, Angélica.” I hit her again with the spiked side, and her gasping whimper sends a rush of blood straight to my already swollen cock. “But please, say your safeword, and I’ll use my cock to make you scream instead of using this.”

I flip the handle and hit her as hard as I dare, punching into the soft, broken skin of her thigh.

She sobs into the bed, refusing to surrender in spite of the agony.

She prefers a sharp, stingy type of pain, so these brutal, thuddy blows that sink in deep are probably torment to endure. And I adore her for taking it anyway.

I deliver five more swats with the meat tenderizer, alternating between harsh hits with the flat end and softer ones with the spiked end.

The rows of metal spikes leave the prettiest little patterns of purple across her ass and thighs.

She’s never looked so stunning, and I want to devour her almost as much as I want to torture her.

But the game isn’t over yet, so I move on to my next instrument of pain.

This one she is very familiar with. A sense of nostalgia warms my cold heart as I twist the knife in my hands. We’ve been bound by sharp edges and blood since the moment we met. And she deserves to taste my steel once more.

Not wanting to make the game too easy for her, I strike quickly and slap the broad side of the blade across her ass.

The loud smack that ricochets through the room is music to my ears.

I spank her with the knife again, careful not to linger with my blade against her skin.

She knows the feel of it too well already.

“Knife,” she guesses without me needing to ask. I can hear the smile in her voice as she leans toward me, offering herself for more. I love giving her my blade more than anything else, and because she’s my perfect, twisted match, so does she.

“Too easy,” I reprimand, just barely managing to keep my voice stern in spite of the warmth bubbling in my chest. I hit her twice more, and she moans loudly with each searing swat. “What kind of knife?”

She’s silent a moment as she tries to decipher the shape and length of the steel that’s been hammering into her ass. “Hit me again,” she requests, lifting her ass high in the air to receive the blow.

Instead of hitting her, I press the sharp tip of the knife into the divot of her spine until blood wells. “Where are your manners, angel?” I press even harder and watch the red drip down in a thin, steady stream. “You’re in this room to serve me, not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasps, keeping perfectly still for fear I’ll cut deeper. “Please hit me again, Greyson.”

“Since you beg so nicely,” I answer with a smirk before whipping the knife across her inner thigh. She cries out, fighting the spreader bar as she tries to squeeze her legs together and rub out the pain. I smile when she fails to gain any relief from the knife’s sting.

“A-again, please,” she pleads in a quivering voice.

“Such a little painslut,” I laugh before drawing back and slapping her inner thigh again. This time, she muffles a moan. “Any guesses, angel? Or should I keep spanking these pretty thighs red?”

“Santoku knife,” she cries out, her body braced for another smack.

And unfortunately, she’s correct. I’m guessing the broader width of the blade gave it away after she’d received enough blows. I can’t knock her strategy—my girl is so smart she’ll outplay me in my own game. Which means this last one really needs to be enough to beat her.

“You know your knives, pretty ruin,” I concede as I walk back to the kitchen and swap my knife for something a little more creative.

“I think I went too easy on you. Your body recognizes my steel as much as it does my cock. This, though,” I toss the metal whisk from hand to hand, “is a personal favorite of mine.”

Just to be a dick, I line the handle of the whisk up with her ass rather than the tell-tale wire loops on the end. She doesn’t have a chance, and that’s exactly how I like it.

“One more, angel. If you guess right, I’ll fuck you and let you come.” I lean over her and press my cock into the crack between her tender, bruised cheeks. “If you guess wrong, I’ll take your ass and make sure you scream when I do it.”

Her whimper of dread gets me even harder.

Drawing back, I slam the metal handle against her ass harder than anything else I’ve used on her tonight.

A thick, red stripe crops up where I hit her, the welt angry and swollen.

She’ll have trouble sitting for the next couple weeks after I’m finished with her.

I whip her again with the handle a few inches below the first blow.

A second stripe blazes red across her skin.

“I’d guess quickly if I were you,” I warn, hitting her again. “I don’t think your poor ass can take much more.”

“I don’t know,” she sobs, flinching with each new strike.

“That’s not how this game works, Angélica,” I seethe, my voice harsh as I struggle to contain my arousal. I keep raining blows, careful not to hit the same spot twice—I don’t want her pretty skin to break anymore than it has. “Guess.”

“B-baton,” she gasps at last. Not a bad guess considering I’m hitting her with the wrong end of the whisk, but I don’t plan on bending any rules from her. She guessed wrong, which means her ass is mine tonight.

“I’m afraid not,” I sympathize with cruel satisfaction.

“So you’ll have to take your consolation prize like a good girl and try not to cry too much.

” I slide the metal handle between her ass cheeks, running it through the soaked folds of her cunt to get it nice and wet before slotting it up against the sweet puckered hole of her ass.

“No!” she hisses when I press down a little and watch the handle disappear a couple inches into her ass. “Please, don’t.”

“Don’t?” I question, the threat evident in my tone. “Don’t touch what I’ve earned? Don’t touch what’s mine ? And why the fuck shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” she pleads again, and it’s so hard to deny my pretty girl when she begs.

“I’ll give you a choice, angel,” I compromise while continuing to press the handle into her ass a little bit at a time.

“Either take this up your ass while I fuck your greedy, wet pussy, or take the other end up your cunt while I stretch out your ass with my cock. I’ll warn you—my cock is much fucking bigger than this tiny little handle.

And you don’t know what’s waiting for you at the other end,” I add with a sadistic smirk.

When she remains silent, I shove the handle a little deeper, making her cry out. “Choose, angel. Or I’ll choose for you.”

“Y-you,” she whimpers.

I frown down at her. “Not specific enough. Where do you want me? Here?” I slap my hand against her sopping wet folds. “Or here?” I slide my hand up and tap my fingers against her other hole.

“My—ass,” she whispers, humiliation thick in her voice.