Page 4 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

Chapter Two

GREYSON

M y heart thunders like a ravaging storm as I push my way through the crowd of half-naked people fucking their way through Halloween night.

The ruined angel’s hand is intertwined with mine while I lead her through the large room.

I hold her protectively close to my side, making sure that no other fucker but me touches her.

The bones of her fingers are so small and fragile in my grasp that I could break them without even trying.

The eager anticipation in her light brown eyes as I drag her up the stairs toward my private room suggests that she might not even protest if I tried.

She doesn’t say a word when I pull her in front of the ominous red door with the demon name Moloch etched into the top in black letters, take out my keys, and unlock the door without ever letting go of her hand.

I don’t give her a moment to hesitate before tugging her inside and slamming the door behind us with a kick of my foot.

Her pretty eyes flit across the room, studying every whip, cane, rope, chain, and piece of bondage equipment without an ounce of fear.

Granted, these are all just standard kink accessories.

I have the most extensive collection at the club, and it all gets very regular use.

The more specialized items are hidden away in the drawers beside the St. Andrew’s cross—shock collars, violet wands, Wartenberg wheels, spiked paddles, an array of needles, and my very favorite, a collection of stainless steel knives.

Unlike most sadists who practice edge play, my knives are professional kitchen grade and an exact match for the ones I keep at my restaurant, Grey’s.

I got a taste for mixing kink with cooking early on in my culinary career, and I never quite kicked the addiction.

Watching the sharp edges glint in the firelight of the room gets my cock almost as hard as tearing into a sweet sub’s holes.

Sometimes, I wrap my hand around my playmate of the moment’s throat and allow myself to imagine shoving the pristine steel inside her soft, warm cunt while I fill up her ass with my cum until she’s dripping all over the floor.

The dark, sinful fantasy always makes me come harder and faster than anything else.

But the delicious desire stays in my thoughts where it should.

The last time I gave a girl my blade, things ended very badly. And I’ve held everyone at a distance ever since.

“See anything you like, angel?” I ask, watching her like a predator inspecting its next meal as she walks around the room and runs her soft fingers over the brutal instruments.

I wonder which is her favorite—the thought startles me because I’ve never actually cared before.

The tools are for my use, much like the girls I use them on.

This girl is fucking with my brain chemistry on a dangerous level.

“It’s nice,” she replies, the words crafted in such a way that they sound like an insult.

I frown at her, the expression lost behind my demon mask.

“But I’ve seen all this before,” she continues.

She slips an ash-tipped finger under one of the whips and sends it knocking into the others hanging beside it.

They clatter loudly against the rack, the noise digging its way under my skin.

She glances up at me with wide, innocent eyes, seemingly oblivious to the havoc she’s wreaking on my sanity.

This girl is fucking trouble. And I’ve never met a red flag I didn’t want to fuck.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” I drawl, my tone even despite wanting to strap her down and whip her until that attitude is drowned out by her screams for mercy.

I stalk toward her, my steps heavy and reluctant as my own body begs me to rein in my lust for destruction.

I ignore the warning like I always do. Caging her in with my hands against the wall on either side of her head, I press her winged back against those whips she isn’t impressed by, letting her feel the leather dig into her bare skin.

I can smell the smoke clinging to her body, and the warm, seductive scent of it does unnatural things to the blood coursing through my veins and heading straight for my cock.

“What are you in the mood for, pretty little ruin?” The words are razor-edged, promising the sweetest devastation in return.

“It’s Halloween,” she says as though that should mean something to me.

“Yes, that would explain the masks and costumes, wouldn’t it?” I answer as a smile tugs at my lips.

“Well,” she looks up at me, the ash brushed across her eyes bringing out the golden flecks in her irises, “don’t you have anything scarier to play with?”

Her words send a sharp jolt of arousal straight to my thick cock, my erection so hard that I groan with the pain of my piercings pressing into the zipper of my pants.

“You want me to scare you?” I growl, thrusting my hips against her so she can feel what will be splitting her in two the second I get her naked and beneath me.

“Yes,” she whispers. And fuck me, I think she actually means it.

“Let’s see how pretty you are when you fall on those knees, angel.” The words are a harsh command as I tangle my fingers in her curly hair and force her down to the floor with a sharp tug.

“Do you think your cock is enough to scare me?” she asks with an arched brow, looking far too comfortable on her knees with her scorched wings draping beside her. Her gaze drifts down to the bulge between my thighs before flicking back up with a spark of self-destruction. “I doubt it.”

Jesus, it’s like she wants me to be out for blood. If she insists on begging for annihilation, I’m more than happy to provide it.

My hand whips out and catches her jaw, squeezing hard enough that she can’t pull away. “You like the danger, don’t you? Is that what makes that pretty cunt weep?”

She stares up at me bravely, no hint of embarrassment at my filthy words. “Why don’t you slide your hand between my thighs and find out?”

Fucking hell . I need to pace myself. She’s like a drug that needs to be indulged in small increments.

If I take in too much at once, I’ll overdose before I can even enjoy the pleasure of breaking her.

If I allow myself to fully succumb to the addiction clawing its way through my aching chest right now, things will end badly for both of us—her decidedly more so.

But this girl’s fearlessness is an exact match to the darkness furled inside me, and it’s been so long since any real, true excitement sent my heart racing.

If she’s reckless enough to beg a demon for destruction, who am I to deny her?

“No, that would be too easy,” I taunt. My hand slides down from her jaw and wraps around her throat.

I’m not gentle, and my fingers press deeply enough into her windpipe that she’ll soon struggle to breathe.

Her vision will start to darken in a few moments, the last, sharp-edged remnants of consciousness prickling across her skin. “You wanted to fear me, remember?”

My fingers squeeze even harder, and she chokes for air with the sweetest little gasps of desperation.

I could spend hours listening to the intoxicating sound of her struggling for survival while I hold her life in my hands and never tire of it.

I lean down and slide my tongue over the ash staining her cheek, loving how the burned flavor mixes with the salt of sweat on her skin.

I’m starving for more of her. And she’s going to give me everything.

“You’ll have to earn your pleasure with tears. ”

A shadow flickers across her face, hardening her pretty features. The change in her demeanor throws me enough that my hand loosens, and she rips herself from my hold. “I don’t cry,” she bites back, a vengeful edge to her tone.

I capture her long hair and drag her back toward me. “We’ll see, little ruin,” I threaten as she struggles against the iron strength of my hand. “You’ve never played with a monster quite like me.”

Without releasing her, I run my finger over her mouth, pressing her bottom lip against her teeth until the soft skin splits.

Red pools in her mouth, staining her teeth and spilling down her chin.

She doesn’t even flinch, her golden eyes fierce as they latch onto mine.

In spite of her defiant refusal, I want to see those eyes pool with tears.

“They all cry eventually. As brave as you are, I don’t expect you’ll be any different.”

There’s no sign of fear in her body as she bleeds for me for the first time. She doesn’t even seem to care that I’ve made a mess of her lovely face. “Do your worst,” she provokes, and my eyes are fixated on those bloody red lips of hers. “Hurt me in any way you can imagine. I’ll never cry.”

“Such pretty, bold words, angel.”

I rub two fingers over her lip, pressing harder into the cut until it splits deeper.

My fingertips are red, glistening in the light of the fire.

Indulging my own cravings, I bring my hand to my lips and lick away the sweet, metallic taste.

Then I bring my wet fingers back to her mouth and shove them against her tongue, pushing back until she’s gagging at the invasion.

She doesn’t wrap her soft lips around me, and she doesn’t try to push me away.

She just sits there on her knees with her mouth wide open, letting me penetrate her with my fingers until she’s drooling all over herself.

It’s almost as though she’s bored with my attempt to force a reaction from her. Hell, her eyes don’t even water when I hit her gag reflex for the fifth time in a row. Clearly she needs more violence than the usual girls I drag in here and force to their knees.

“Do you think those are all I have to offer?” I ask with a nod toward the implements behind her. “I keep all the dangerous toys hidden away for when pretty girls like you are foolish enough to ask for them.” I tap her on the cheek to make sure I have her full attention. “Would you like to see?”

“Yes, please,” she answers with a coy smile, the words soft and sweet and everything I know she isn’t.

“Don’t move.” It’s the first implicit order I’ve given her, and I’m curious to see if she obeys.

I leave her on her knees and walk toward the cabinet beside the cross where I keep the actual torture implements.

I survey all the sharp, pointed, and prickly tools that serve different flavors of pain.

My angel deserves something special. I hesitate when my fingers brush over the set of knives.

I really shouldn’t. I can’t trust myself with a blade, not near her.

The urge to turn that lovely skin red would be too strong to stifle.

I glance back to where she sits, exactly where I left her.

Her golden eyes are bright with anticipation.

She wants me to scare her. So fuck it—let’s see if she’s as tough as she says.

Disappointment flares on her face when I walk back to her with only a simple, black blindfold in my hands. “Are you scared of the dark, angel?”

“No,” she snaps as if the very question is insulting .

“Of course you’re not,” I mutter with a laugh. “Indulge me anyway.” I tug the silk tight over her eyes, making sure no light sneaks through. Unable to resist, I stroke my fingers over her soft curls, inhaling the sweetness of cinnamon as I tie the blindfold in a firm knot at the back of her head.

When I step back to take in the view, I decide she looks even more ravishing when she’s relinquished her sight to me. “Safeword,” I demand. Even if she wants to play with fear tonight, I’m not taking any chances on crossing boundaries.

“Caramel,” she answers softly, her bravado a little less sharp than it was before I blinded her.

Burned sugar and the color of her eyes. Seems like a perfect choice.

“If anything happens that you don’t like, you use it. Understood?”

“Yes.”

A growl rumbles deep in my chest at the knowledge that I will push her as far as she can go tonight. Something tells me that when I do, she’ll only beg for more. “Good girl.”