Page 48 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)
Chapter Thirty-Four
ANGéLICA
M y entire body feels like it’s been scorched—inside and out.
My fingertips still burn with the lingering sting of the cinnamon oil, but everywhere else has dulled to a subtle, aching heat.
It’s arousing to feel the fire of Grey’s torment with the oil across my tits and between my thighs and deep inside my pussy.
He seared himself into my skin, and somehow the constant, unyielding warmth of it keeps me from being nervous as we walk back down to join the others in Hell.
People may still be staring, but I’m no longer fixated on the suffocating heaviness of their attention like I was when we first walked into the large, flame-lined space used as a communal play and fuck area.
Right now, the only thing I see and feel is Grey.
I’m high on the pleasure of submitting my body to his delicious torture, and I never want to come down.
A shiver of cold sends goosebumps scattering across my bare legs.
It’s no surprise that Grey destroyed my beautiful gown while he had me at his mercy upstairs, so I’m wearing the little gold thong with his black and gold suit coat buttoned below my tits like a very short mini dress.
The crown of golden feathers is still in my hair, and the flakes of gold painted on my skin are surprisingly smudge-proof, so I’m currently a ridiculous combination of being underdressed and overdressed at the same time.
Thankfully, Grey and I left our masks upstairs along with my wings.
I wish I’d been brave enough to destroy his shirt so I could enjoy the sight of his tattoos a little longer.
For someone who is blessed with enough masculine beauty to rival any man I’ve ever seen, Grey definitely wears too many damn clothes.
He squeezes my hand as we descend the stairs, and I squeeze his in return, loving how we can slip back into being a normal couple after all the kinky shit we just did in his private room. Then again, I’m not sure if the two of us will ever be normal .
“I don’t see Finn or Ashford,” Grey says as he scans the room for signs of his friends. It’s hard to tell who is who with most people still in their masks.
“I’m pretty sure they’re still upstairs,” I answer with a wince of embarrassment. “I think I recognized Kara’s scream from the room beside ours as we walked out.”
“Listening to the neighbors fuck, naughty girl?” Grey chuckles. “And that bastard Finn promised the rooms were soundproof.”
“Wonder how Caden got her to scream like that.” I suppress a shudder. The man is terrifying, even though Kara seems well-equipped to handle him.
“Well, we could always watch if you’re interested,” Grey offers with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes they enjoy an audience.”
I turn to glare at him. “And how would you know?”
Grey’s brows knit together when he realizes he said something that will get him into trouble.
“Shit, I forgot to tell you about that,” he admits, looking guilty. “Kara gave me a blowjob once. I promise it was the first and last time she saw my beautiful cock. Ashford was there and watched the whole thing. I didn’t mean to keep it secret—I just genuinely forgot.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and presses me against his chest. I feel his lips bury in my curls, and he places a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against my hair.
“Oh it’s alright,” I respond as well as I can with my cheeks crushed by the strength of his arms wrapped around me.
Grey pulls away slightly to study my face, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Really?”
“Sure.” My expression is the perfect picture of false forgiveness. “I’ll just go suck Caden’s cock, then we’ll be even. Don’t worry, I’ll let you watch too.”
Suddenly, his hold grows so tight with fury that I fear my lungs might explode. “The fuck you will,” Grey seethes, each word sharpened like a blade. “This mouth is mine.”
In an instant, his lips assault me, demanding submission from my mouth with no remorse, no gentleness.
His teeth tear into my tender skin, and I feel the warm, coppery taste of blood explode on my tongue.
Willing to make it a fair fight, I bite down on his tongue as he tries to shove it down my throat.
He whimpers into my mouth at the pain, and I swear something about that sweet, needy sound makes me want to throw him down and straddle his cock right in the middle of this crowded room.
My blood heats more and more with every second as Grey’s lips and tongue tangle with mine, and I feel the tiny scrap of silk between my thighs soak all the way through.
Grey’s suit coat won’t be enough to cover the tracks of arousal dripping down my legs.
I’ll look like a desperate slut as he parades me around Hell wearing less than half my clothes and my cum and leftovers of his pouring out of my pussy. And right now, that suits me just fine.
The moment I reach down to rub my palm over the swollen bulge of Grey’s erection, he pulls away, his chest heaving with anger and arousal.
It’s pretty clear neither of us won that little battle for dominance that we just played, and from the ferocious glint in his crystalline eyes, I’d say he’s more than pissed about it.
His heavy hand lands on my throat, his fingers digging so deep into my neck he’s sure to leave bruises.
“If you mention or even think about another man’s cock, I will fuck your throat so goddamn raw that you’ll never want to swallow anything ever again,” he hisses, his hand wrapping tighter and tighter around my neck. “Is that fucking clear, angel?”
I claw at his hand until he releases me enough that I can finally suck air into my lungs. “Yes,” I bite back, my fingers latched onto his. “And if you ever let another woman near your cock, I’ll use your favorite knife to cut it off. Then I’ll feed it to you. Is that clear for you, chef?”
A moment of sharp-edged silence lingers between before Grey’s lips split into a lopsided grin. “ Jesus Christ , you were handcrafted just for me, weren’t you, little ruin?” He leans down to press a soft, indulgent kiss against my lips.
“If you mean I can match your crazy one hundred times over,” I stand on my tiptoes and flick my tongue up the side of his cheek, “then yes.”
“Get the fuck back up the stairs,” he growls, his fingers twisting in my curls until I screech. “I need to feel your cunt strangle my cock again.”
“Easy there, Casanova,” I laugh, trying to push him away because he’s squeezing my full bladder a little too hard. “Before any more fucking happens, I need to pee.”
“Sounds kinky. Can I watch?”
“No, you damn pervert,” I scoff. “You can give me five minutes to pee in peace.”
“You’re going to leave me alone with these deviants?” He takes an exaggerated glance around the room, implying that he’ll likely be assaulted by some half-naked slut the second I’m gone. Given his godlike good looks, it’s a definite possibility.
“I’ll be quick,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes. Poor, pretty sadist can’t protect his cock on his own. “Remember what I said about your favorite knife and your next meal if I find anyone else touching what’s mine. Be a good boy, and don’t get into trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs in response before sending me toward the restrooms with a firm slap on my ass.
I’m shocked he’s allowing me to give him orders at all. He’ll probably make me pay for it later, but I’ll let him because I enjoy his punishments just as much as he loves giving them.
The restroom ends up being the most decadent place to piss I’ve ever seen.
Like the rest of Hell, the floors and ceilings are gold.
There’s a plush, red velvet lounge beside a gorgeous floor-length mirror that’s set in an ornate, gold frame.
There’s an entire wall made for applying or fixing makeup with vanities, tufted red stools, and extensive beauty lighting.
The sinks are all gold with freestanding, gold mirrors hanging above them. I think it’s pretty fair to say that Finn has a major hard-on for metallics, but he somehow manages to overuse luxury in a very charming, Versailles sort of way.
I half-expect the toilets to be made of solid gold as well, but they are boring old porcelain.
The first stall is occupied, so I make for the one beside it as quickly as possible and relieve my over-strained bladder.
Thoughts of Grey getting eye-fucked by every available whore in the room have me running through the motions as quickly as possible.
I wash my still-burning hands and dry them on a folded towel that smells of lavender and chamomile.
The delightful scent sends my thoughts buzzing with different sorts of dessert combinations I could try at the restaurant tomorrow, and I amble with distracted steps until suddenly everything plunges into darkness.
The flames lining Hell’s playroom are gone.
With no backup lights illuminating the room, I stumble around blindly, trying not to bump into anything or anyone.
“Grey?” I call out into the room, my voice quiet but a little frantic.
Something feels wrong. There’s a strange prickling at the base of my spine that urges me to watch my back.
I whip my head around, but I can’t find anything in the darkness.
I try to rely on my other senses as I navigate the room with only sweeping gestures of my arms and small, cautious steps of my feet.
The room is full of shrieks and screams as people get spooked and let a few minutes in the pitch blackness get the best of them.
No matter how brave we all pretend to be, it’s impossible to overcome the body’s natural instinct to fear the dark.
“Grey?” I call out again, a little louder this time. “Greyson?”