Beyond Ruin

by Kit Rocha

  "Because of a lot of things." Words that usually stuck in his throat like glass seemed to come easily when Scarlet was touching him. "Gideon's father took over the sector after the civil war. For a while, I thought things would change. But they never really did, because the people didn't care who was technically in charge. My grandfather was still alive, still their Prophet..."

  "And they still listened to him." She brushed a kiss over his collarbone. "I'm sorry."

  "So am I." He closed his eyes and slipped his fingers into the soft strands of her hair. "So you're right. Where I come from is a big part of who I am...but it's not the palace, Scarlet. It's knowing that the greed and selfishness that built it could be inside me."

  "But it's not." She punctuated the words with a kiss. "That's why Dylan loves you." Another kiss. "Why Jade loves you." He could feel her heart pounding. "Why I love you."

  Those had to be the most beautiful sounds she'd ever made, and he craved them with a reckless hunger. "Say it again."

  "Dylan loves you. Jade loves you." Her hands trembled as they slid down his back. "I love you, Adrian."

  She was wrong, sweet and beautiful and wrong to love him. Dylan wasn't here as a safe buffer, a leash to choke back this dangerous rush of need. Mad skated his hands down her back to grip her ass and hauled her up his body. "Again."

  "Love you." She gasped when his hands tightened, and her nails bit into the small of his back. "I mean it. I do."

  "Even if I'm selfish?" A quick jerk, and he had her off the floor, crushed against his body with his dick grinding between her legs. "Even if I'm greedy?"

  Instead of answering, she wrapped her legs around his hips and licked his lower lip.

  Wrong, so wrong, but not even Dylan could have stopped him from biting her in return, sinking his teeth into the softness of her lip as he slammed her back against a wall. "Be mean to me."

  A slow, wicked smile curved her lips as the prick of her nails deepened to a hard burn. "Jade should be here," she purred. "To kiss it all better when I'm done."

  That was a mental image to savor—Scarlet raking fire across his back while Jade knelt at his feet, waiting for permission to twist pain into bliss with her clever mouth and luscious lips and eager tongue—

  "That's right. Doesn't take long to get there, does it?" Scarlet's touch turned tender, coaxing. "Take me to your bed."

  He did, crossing the space to the massive expanse of mattress. But instead of dropping her onto it, he fell backwards and brought her with him. She ended up straddling his hips, her ass rubbing against him with maddening pressure. He ignored it and slipped his hands under her shirt—his shirt—

  She slapped them away. "You told me to be mean. Letting you play with my tits isn't mean, it's a goddamn gift."

  The feral gleam in her eyes was hot as hell, but not as arousing as the way his guilt and apprehension shattered. He didn't need Dylan here to slap him down. Scarlet would do it on her own—had to do it, because she'd spent so much time locking away any part of her that wasn't about making Jade feel safe.

  Maybe she needed this more than he did. But he'd sure as fuck get off on it, too. Meeting her eyes, he smiled lazily. "You think smacking my fingers is going to keep me from touching you?"

  "Nope. But I have my ways." She climbed off the bed and kicked off her shoes. Undressing was as much a show as a necessity, and her fingers lingered over her belt, the button on her cargo pants, even her black lace panties.

  She left the shirt on as she turned her attention to his jeans, pausing in her task only to rub the heel of her hand hard against his erection through the denim. He thrust up into her touch, but she moved her hand and kept undressing him. He was panting by the time she climbed over him again, resuming a position that was so much filthier, so much more tempting now that they were both naked.

  Almost naked. Scarlet plucked at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up just high enough for him to catch a glimpse of her bare pussy. "How mean do you want me to be?"

  "Wrong question." He clutched her thigh and rubbed his thumb in a slow circle. "How mean do you want to be?"

  "Mmm." The black cotton inched higher, until it bared the lower curves of her breasts. Then she stripped it quickly over her head. "That is a good question."

  Her skin was so soft. Like Jade's, like Dylan's even—but for all the strength in both of them, Jade and Dylan had one thing in common. Their hearts were fragile. Careless handling left bruises that could take months to heal.

  He was tougher than that, and so was Scarlet. He scraped his nails down her leg, leaving four white lines that would turn pink soon enough. "Whatever it is, I can take it. C'mon, Scarlet. Teach me not to be so fucking greedy."

  "You are greedy." She rocked her hips, gliding her wet pussy from the base of his cock all the way up. When the ridge at the head raked over her clit, she shuddered and gripped his wrists. "And you should be careful what you ask for. You might get it."

  She stretched up, guiding his arms above his head. She had to slide up his body to reach, and she settled on his stomach as his hands hit the pillows. "Keep them here." The position put her breasts right above his face, and she leaned down until one nipple grazed the corner of his mouth. "Can you?"

  He could crouch patiently in the shadows for hours, ignoring the ache in his legs as he stalked an enemy. He could climb into the cage on fight night and take down an opponent as quickly or slowly as whim dictated. He'd once smiled pleasantly for an hour with a bullet in his arm.

  He couldn't stop himself from turning his head to lick her nipple. And he couldn't make any promises about staying still with her naked body on top of his. "Maybe."

  "Maybe?" she echoed, bowing her back until her hard nipple pushed between his lips. "You're supposed to have an iron will. Control that nothing and no one can shake."

  He flexed his fingers, tempted to snatch her up and toss her on her back—but he didn't need his hands to shatter her control. He used his teeth instead, scraping them over her soft skin before closing them on her nipple in a precise bite.

  A low moan shuddered out of her. "You play dirty." She sat up, leaving him with a perfect view of her flushed, naked body. "I like it."

  "I'm good with my mouth." He grinned and licked his lower lip. "Get up here and I'll prove it."

  She shook her head and cupped her breast, closing her fingers around the slick peak that was still wet from his tongue. "Tell me."

  "I'd be rougher—" His words broke off as her other hand slid down, the backs of her fingers brushing his stomach as she began to stroke her pussy.

  Oh holy hell, she was mean.

  "Rougher," he repeated hoarsely, fighting back with words. "Because Jade is so sweet to you, isn't she? And she's precious like that. What did it feel like the first time she came around your fingers?"

  Scarlet's thighs tensed, and she circled her clit slowly with one fingertip. "Like she'd never stop. Like I finally did something right."

  "That's how it felt the first time I got Dylan off." If he closed his eyes, he could still see it, but Scarlet couldn't. So he painted the picture for her. "You know how he looks when he's tired, stressed. He puts his hand in his pocket, because he's reaching for those goddamn pills. I pushed him back against the wall and got on my knees and gave him something better to feel. And he got that look—"

  Her breath hitched, and she laughed softly. "I know the one."

  Happiness was still a shock on Dylan's face, as if it was an emotion he'd never had reason to express before. "He had it the first time he touched you. When you were in my lap, squirming all over me while he and Jade fucked you with their fingers."

  "Yeah?"

  Scarlet was flushed, her fingers slipping easily over flesh he wanted to lick. They were fighting for the top, just like he'd always imagined—and nothing like he'd ever imagined, because there were no losers in this game. When one of them broke, they'd both win.

  It didn't make the game less fun. He listened to her hitching breaths and built th
e fantasy a little higher. "I think that might become one of our favorite things to do, you know. All of us together, fucking you until you can't come any more."

  "It'd take a while." She rocked back, nudging his cock with the round, firm curve of her ass. "You up for it?"

  He gritted his teeth and fought for that iron control. It barely kept him from thrusting up toward her in desperation. "Oh, we'll take our time. You know how it would start. Dylan loves shoving Jade's head between your legs almost as much as she loves being there."

  Scarlet stopped moving and leaned forward a little, bracing herself on his chest. "Give me your hand."

  "Yes, that's what would happen next." He brought his arm up and teased his knuckles down the center of her body. "Jade would have you screaming under her mouth, but you'd be empty, wouldn't you?"

  "Mm-hmm." She caught his hand—and dragged it lower. "So fill me up."

  She was so wet, but he took his time, ignoring her insistent grip. It was worth it to watch her body jerk as he teased her clit, stroking back and forth until she loosened her hold on him and shifted her hips instead, rocking into his touch.

  "This is how we'd start," he whispered, keeping his touch light enough to make her strain toward him. "But it wouldn't stay slow for long. Dylan might be patient, but I'm not. And Jade's the worst. So greedy for your pleasure."

  "She's just hungry."

  He twisted his wrist and edged two fingers inside her, gritting his teeth against the lure of her taunting heat. He needed more words, filthier ones, words that could conjure fantasies vivid enough to snap the thin thread of her control. "Have you ever let her have her way with you?"

  Scarlet's eyes locked with his, and she slowed her eager, seeking movements. "Not at first. I wanted to be sure, you know?"

  Oh, he knew. All about the guilt and uncertainty, all the things that had bound him to caution when it came to Jade. But Scarlet was wrong. "She's not just hungry. It's you, sweetheart. Your flushed skin and your moans—" He worked his fingers deeper, pressed his thumb to her clit, and she choked back a sound that was half-whimper, half-groan. "And that noise right there. That's what she's hungry for. What all of us are hungry for."

  But Scarlet wasn't listening. She leaned forward again, bracing her hands on either side of his head. The position trapped his hand between them, leaving him helpless to do anything but watch as she began to fuck his fingers, her clit nudging his palm every time her hips snapped down.

  Victory.

  And torture.

  He couldn't even lean up to kiss her. But he got to savor the expressions flickering over her face—her narrowed eyes and parted lips, her ragged breaths, her moans as she gave in and took, recklessly and selfishly. "That's it, Scarlet. Use me to get off."

  She did, so silently he might not have noticed without his fingers buried inside her. Her hips bucked and her body tightened, pulsing and clenching—

  His patience snapped. With a surge of muscle he upended them, spilling her back to the bed with his thighs driving hers wide, his fingers still buried inside her. "Do it again," he growled, bracing his weight on his other hand so he could watch her face. "Use me."

  She moaned something that almost sounded like his name and placed her hands on his sides. It could have been a caress, except for the way her nails raked over his skin, carving sharp, bright lines of pain.

  He hissed out a breath and let the fire of it burn through him, sweet and clean. "More."

  "How careful are they with you, baby?" she whispered. "Everyone in the world."

  Most people never got close enough to matter. And the few who did... "Too goddamn careful."

  The bite of her nails sharpened. "You want me to be rough?"

  "I want you to be you."

  The pleasure on her face melted into a heart-stopping smile. "What does that even mean?"

  He eased his fingers from her and gripped his cock, tormenting them both with one slow stroke before he guided it to her pussy. It was so tempting to thrust into her all at once, but he rocked into her in time with his rasped words. "It means Dylan loves you." Deeper. "It means Jade loves you." Deeper.

  Mad dropped to his elbows, his body against hers, his face so close he whispered the truth against her lips as he drove home. "It means I love you."

  She trembled beneath him—her arms and legs wrapping around him, clinging tight—and the words she sighed echoed his. "Say it again."

  He rolled his hips, fucking her without pulling free of her shaking, desperate embrace. "We love you, Scarlet. I love you. When you're mean and when you're nice and when you're everything in between."

  "Yes." Her teeth scraped his jaw before closing on his neck.

  He was past pain and pleasure. It was all sensation, throbbing along with his pounding heart as he rocked into her again. Just a beautiful blur of Scarlet, with only the fleeting regret that Dylan and Jade weren't here to see her like this—writhing beneath him, whimpering against his lips, scratching up his back with abandon, as free as she'd always been but somehow more and better—

  But they would see it. For tonight, he let himself believe it. They'd survive the war and this would be their forever. Love and trust until they didn't have to be so careful, because they would know each other and be known. Be loved.

  Scarlet's nails dug into his shoulder as she shuddered in the grip of another orgasm, and Mad let fantasy guide his mouth to her throat. Her hoarse moan when he bit her was sweet, but not the prize. The mark would be—proof of this moment that he could touch, proof that would take days to fade, each one a promise.

  Someday, Ace would set a different kind of mark around her throat, and around Jade's and Dylan's, too. Because Dylan's dominance in bed could only blunt the truth for so long.

  Mad was royalty. He had been born to lead, to possess, to protect.

  And they were his.

  The thought was too much. He shuddered as pleasure flooded him, swift and hot and burning like the scratches down his back. He sank into her a final time and groaned against her ear.

  Scarlet panted against his cheek, her heart pounding wildly, somehow still in time with his. "Adrian."

  When she wrapped her voice around the syllables, he didn't hate his name. Maybe it could be like Jade—like Jyoti—a secret the four of them held behind closed doors. An intimacy reserved for the people he loved. "Scarlet."

  Her arms tightened around him, and one leg slid over the back of his. "We could stay here forever. Right here."

  "We could," he agreed, nuzzling her cheek. "Jade and Dylan will be back eventually. One of them will bring food."

  "That's all we need, isn't it?"

  "Pretty much." Jade, Dylan, and a world where looming war wasn't demanding more and more of both of their time. But those thoughts were dark, and Scarlet was warm and soft against him as he rolled to his side and dragged her with him. "I have enough liquor in here to last us through the summer."

  He felt more than heard her smothered laugh, and she reached past him for the cigarettes she'd left on his nightstand. "All of our vices covered." She lit one cigarette, and a little of her humor faded. "Have you noticed?"

  He smoothed the disheveled hair back from her forehead. "What, our vices?"

  She shook her head. "Dylan. Haven't seen him high in a while."

  Mad froze with his fingers tangled in her hair and thought back. When was the last time he'd seen those glassy eyes, that sleepy distance? The night he'd gone to Sector Two with Deacon, maybe, but everything after that was a blur. The bombs had fallen, and then Scarlet and Jade—

  Jade had needed Dylan. They'd all needed him, and Dylan had always been good at pulling it together when he was needed. But never for this long. "You're right. I haven't, either."

  Scarlet exhaled and studied him through the haze of smoke. "That's got to mean something."

  "Maybe it just means...we fit." He traced a zigzag pattern down her arm. "All the broken pieces, all the sharp edges. I tried to protect Dylan from his, but there are
some things only Jade can give him. And some things only you can."

  "Don't sell yourself short. Jade's coming out of her shell, too. Taking control of her life." She rubbed her cheek against the inside of his wrist and grinned. "You may not be a prince, but you're definitely a fairy tale come true."

  He laughed and hauled her on top of him. "Maybe I'm warming up to the idea of being a prince—if it means I get to be greedy about the naked people in my bed."

  Her expression softened, and she laid her cigarette in the ashtray on the table. "It's not greed if you're in love."

  He tugged her down until her forehead rested on his. "Can I be greedy about something other than sex?"

  "Name it."

  "Sing for me?"

  She blushed, but she didn't refuse. Instead, she began to hum the first notes of a familiar song—the one she'd been singing the night of the concert in Three.

  The one she'd sung to him.

  By the time she started the first verse, Mad could close his eyes and imagine himself back there. The crush of bodies, the heat and the smoke and taste of whiskey on his tongue. The way she'd looked on that stage, clad in leather and steel, crooning like silk.

  The way her eyes had met his, and for those intoxicating moments, he'd felt seen, understood. Known and loved and forgiven for every goddamn one of his endless list of sins.

  Music was its own religion, a spiritual force that bound them together. All of those people crowded into the bar were there to feel, because poverty and squalor and danger and the fucking end of the world wasn't enough to alter their fundamental natures.

  People loved and lost and grieved and rejoiced, and Scarlet was as much a priestess as anyone in Sector One, with her husky-voiced reminders that they were all the same, in the end. That they all wanted and needed and craved.

  That they were all at least a little broken, because they lived in a broken world.

  Mad stroked Scarlet's back as her voice wove its spell, relaxed in a way he hadn't felt in more years than he could remember. Since his easy faith had begun to shred around the edges, and he'd tattooed the family shield on his shoulder in a desperate grasp for confidence and security.