by Lucian Bane
She couldn’t get the blankets fast enough, not liking to keep her back turned for more than a second. She turned with the blankets, her heart skipping a beat at finding Ruin right behind her, watching. Watching her. “Take them downstairs please.”
“Yes mam.” His voice was oh so sweet and accommodating.
An hour later, they were engaged in a torturous evening of having to feed that bitch while she sat at the table in what could have passed for a bra, tits hanging out, touching Ruin non-stop. All while Ruin kept his emerald gaze locked on Isadore, secret little smirk in place. He was having fun was he? He took a sip of the wine the little whore insisted on them drinking, his eyes lowering to his glass occasionally only to raise back up to lock on hers. It always felt like he was slowly licking her with his gaze, making her heart try to beat out of her chest. Why was he giving her all this direct attention with the whore there? What was he trying to prove? That he liked only her? Well… he’d have to do more than that to prove it.
“I gave Isadore a massage the other night.” Ruin slid his possibly drunk gaze to Stacey, making Isadore’s heart leap in her throat at what he might be getting at.
“Ohhh, a massage,” Stacey cried, sounding like she was going to orgasm on the spot. “Can you give me one? Pleeeeease?”
Ruin held Isadore’s gaze and she fought not to show her dire need for him kick that whore in the teeth. “I suppose a small massage would be fine.”
Holy. Shit. Images of his hands on her body nearly gave her a convulsion. “After mine,” Isadore said. “You didn’t finish mine.” Oh dear God she was pathetic!
“Maybe some music,” Stacey ran to Isadore’s stereo and laughed at her oldie selection. “Let’s try this.” Isadore got up and cleared the table, while slow music filled the air with Stacey’s drunk squeal. “Come dance with me,” she called to Ruin.
“I don’t know how really.”
“It’s not hard, I’ll teach you.” She bound up to Ruin.
“After he helps with these dishes.”
Ruin looked at Isadore, his smile distractingly handsome. He liked her fighting for him, that was now obvious. And Isadore was just feeding into it but dammit she was not going to let that bitch put her hands on him. She’d continue being mad at him when Stacey left. First thing in the morning.
“Fine, I’ll dance by myself.”
“I’ll wash, you rinse,” Isadore said when Ruin came to stand exactly next to her. Too close. She shoved him with her hip and Ruin shoved her back with his, giving her a look that made her female parts tremble to be raped by that sexy full mouth, curved in a playful smile. Her tummy fluttered hard as she imagined how that would feel, his lips on her, his tongue. Mercy me. The memory of him kissing Stacey’s hand shot sparks of fury into her little fantasy, giving Isadore her stiff backbone again. How dare he do that crap!
“Glad you want me to finish that massage,” he whispered next to her, smiling. “I believe we were on the please fuck me part.”
Isadore dropped the cup and it clamored in the sink. “I meant a real massage,” she whispered. “And that was only to save you from getting raped by that slut.”
“Save me? Why would you save me? You don’t even like me.”
“Well I hate her more than I don’t like you and she doesn’t deserve to have your hands on her.”
He held his hands out, studying them. “What’s so special about my hands?”
“Nothing,” she hissed. “They’re just not hers.”
“Whose are they?”
“Yours!”
“To do as I please?”
“Not in this house you’re not!” She slammed the soapy cup into his hand. “Rinse.”
“Just not in this house?”
She half faced him. “Look, you want to touch her so bad, then you can leave with her. First thing in the morning. But you’re not doing it while you’re here, anywhere here motherfucker.”
Ruin smiled at her, seeming unable to contain it. “Motherfucker?”
“I know what you’re doing,” she leaned into him with a glare then tossed a look back at ditzy, slow dancing with an invisible pole. “And it’s not going to work.”
He leaned and got in her face. “It seems to be working just fine. Sweet Isadore.”
She went back to doing dishes, nodding. “Okay, okay. You want to play nasty?”
“Nasty.” Suddenly every word she said, he could provide an erotic meaning for. He leaned into her and whispered, “I want very much to play nasty with you Isadore.”
“Come dance Ruin,” Stacey pulled him away from the sink and Ruin grabbed hold of Isadore, pulling her with him.
“Isadore gets the first dance.” He pulled her to his body, his hands splaying possessively along her back, the lower one firm at the top of her butt. The hateful look on Stacey’s face released Isadore’s inner bitch and she snaked her arms around Ruin’s neck, running her soapy hands in his hair.
It didn’t take but a few seconds for her ploy of revenge to dissolve into her greatest young girl fantasy. There she was, in the middle of the room with the cutest guy in the world that stared at her so intensely, she felt like the only woman in the whole world.
“I’m going to bed,” Stacey mumbled, going up the stairs, making Isadore’s stomach flutter.
They’d be alone. The fear of what that could lead to raced along her spine. Ruin’s hand dropped lower, his fingers pressing into her ass as he pulled her tight to him, the heat of his hard body screaming for her immediate submission. A helpless moan escaped and she panicked. “Ruin…” She put both hands on his chest and he suddenly pressed them tight to him.
“Isadore,” he said back.
“We can’t…”
“Yes we can.”
“W-why?”
He stroked his fingers along her face, then trailed them over her neck. “Because you have to have it. You crave it.”
Why did he always have the wrong answers? “And what about you?”
“I need to meet your needs.”
“Need to?”
He nodded, his fingers continuing to where his hot gaze rested on her breasts. “I need to, yes.”
She grabbed his hands and held them still. “Need is not good enough.”
His glittery gaze sought hers, his brows drawn. “Stacey seems to think so.”
Isadore shoved him in a flash of rage and turned for the door but Ruin snatched her hand and yanked her back against his body.
“You want it, you need it and I need to give it to you.”
“Why are you acting like this is some kind of real physical requirement? You or I won’t die if we don’t fuck Ruin.”
He paced now before her, raking his hand through his hair, making her nervous with how troubled he behaved. “You’ve done something to me Isadore and I don’t understand what it is, all I know is that I need to give you what you need.” He hurried to her and held on to her upper arms. “You are the reason I literally and physically can’t leave you.” He tapped his chest with his hand. “I feel your needs. In my body and I have to meet them or…”
“Or what?” she gasped, incredulous.
“Or…” his jaw worked slowly to the side and he looked down. “Or I can’t think, I can’t…think clearly.”
It slowly dawned what he might be saying. “You mean…it effects your judgment?”
His pretty green eyes rose to hers. “Yes.”
Isadore was suddenly torn with so many things, need front and center. Then along came images of his mouth on Stacey’s stupid hand, shattering the illusion. “So you need to fuck me or you can’t think, is that it?”
“I need you!” he growled, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Well too bad! You can’t just have what you want JD, and hiding behind the excuse that it’s me wanting it is a little shallow, don’t you think? Not to mention you haven’t even kissed me yet and you want—”
Ruin stormed up to her and kissed her. Both hands holding her head tight, his delic
ious full lips pressing into hers, pushing them open for the passage of his hungry tongue. Dear. God.
The rough rasp of his tongue and those full lips, filled her mind, and heaven help her, the hungry growls he made right in her mouth as he walked backward with her, stole her breath. She fought to think as her hands slid up into his hair and pulled with equal hunger. The next thing she realized they were in the bathroom, his hot gasps hard as he tasted her mouth so very completely and perfectly. He fought for a few seconds with her jeans and intense heat made her gasp in fear, then that cool ice followed.
She barely registered that something happened to her pants as his hand slid inside her panties with a hungry groan, stroking with such a delicate eagerness on her clit. The exploding heat under his gentle fingers brought her sharp cry. She lifted her leg, grabbing at the hem of the white t-shirt he’d put on, needing so badly to taste him.
Seeming to sense her need, he ripped his shirt off, his breath harsh, hot, ragged. He returned to her, gripping her jaw in his large hand with a growl as he took her mouth again, his tongue lashing in victory, his finger driving her raging desire higher with each plunge inside her. He handled her like a warrior who’d fought an entire army to have this prize and intended to have every bit of it in that second.
Isadore was barely aware that her cries reached shameful volumes with the blaze of his mouth, a savage suction along her neck. She held on to his head, his hair, delirious with the driving commands of his finger, and consumed with the growls tingling at her nipple now. He paused with hot gasps, staring at his prize, while his finger slowed to silky, deep strokes. “Perfection,” he whispered, before diving on the modest supply.
“Oh God, Ruin.” Isadore arched her back, latched her leg higher on his thigh, and pulled his hair as he groaned and tugged at her nipple with his teeth. His finger again rammed something deep inside her that brought sinful curses with demanding begs for what she’d sworn to never do.
She watched in a haze as he kissed his way down her stomach, his fingers raking her sides as he did. Desperate whimpers overtook her at seeing his intent and her hands blindly searched along the wall for something to hold on to.
Kneeling before her, Ruin slid her panties slowly down, like a man who’d reached something sacred. “Isadore,” he whispered, staring at her privates as he gently lifted her leg along the wall. Jesus, could she come from anticipation? Her body said yes, very possibly. She held her breath, suddenly worried what he thought of her most secret parts. She’d shaved them. Done it at her last shower. To keep it cleaner, it was easier. It was not for this right here. She swallowed as he stroked his fingers softly over the bare folds until she strained for more of his touch. Then he turned his eyes up to her, the look in them drawing a whimper. The caramel flecks in the center seemed to glow, making the bright green look darker. But right there at the surface was an innocent and open hunger, the look of a man’s first time at the forbidden fruit. The idea that she was his only, slammed her with relief and joy.
His hand slowly moved over her abs, palm in full contact until he reached her breast. Keeping his gaze on hers, he leaned in and grazed his parted lips very slowly over her aching folds. As if it was more than he could stand, his beautiful eyes drifted closed and those black brows drew together hard. Hot shaky breaths preceded his kisses. Starting with her folds, he kissed innocently, with small nips, then he parted his lips more, nibbling with them, then gently sucking.
Isadore tilted her hips to reach more of his gorgeous mouth, her cries growing with the sudden grip he had on her leg, biting into her muscle. The hand on her breast kneaded with a perfect pressure, his palm a constant friction on the tip of her nipple, sending shards of heat through her body, and her poor mind into delirium.
“Ruin,” she gasped, need making her crazy.
He groaned on her, his tongue coming out to play finally, a wicked little fire at the tip of her clit.
“Oh God,” she cried. Yes, that, more, more.
With a growl, he abandoned her breast and clamped onto her other leg, lifting her a little so that her ass and upper thigh was in his strong hand, those fingertips biting hard everywhere the connected to her. “This is mine, Isadore.”
And then he dove on her. He thrust his tongue inside her body pressing his nose into her clit. Isadore thrashed her head, gasping yes, yes, Ruin, yes.
It was unlike anything she’d ever felt or experienced, the sound and feel of his hunger, the way his lips and tongue moved like a fire storm over her parts, and God, the frantic pace in which he did all of it lit her body up with uncontrollable quivers. He made a groan right on her that said he felt it coming, knew it, and he craved it, fought for it like a warring lover, his hot white fire weaving strength and hope into her soul.
She came undone on his mouth finally, unashamed and very loudly. She came so very long, she’d never had such a long ecstasy before. She finally became aware of his hot breaths, blasting against her sensitive folds, followed with the softest kisses. While fighting to catch her breath and her mind, her body decided to become overrun in that second with estrogen and her breaths turned to gasps and soon sobs.
Ruin suddenly held her in his arms, held her entire body up, a large hand cradling the back of her head tight to his shoulder, his arm a band of steel around her. “Shhh, I have you Isadore. You’re mine. You belong to me.” He pressed his mouth to her ear as he said it and the estrogen suddenly morphed into need. The need to do the same to him. To be his first. To taste him. Bring him pleasure.
The notion that she was sinning lingered in the shadows but the need to obey the urge was too great. Too god blessed great. Even as she fought out of his arms and pushed him against the wall she knew there was no stopping her. He watched Isadore, his face hard and beautiful as she kissed her way down his body, her lips sucking, tongue lashing with hunger, nails raking. Oh dear God, he tasted so good that she wanted to weep.
On her knees, he let her do it all, and gasped when she finally got his pants down and set his erection free. “Isadore,” he choked as her hands went around it, “I don’t…”
She looked up at him, freezing on her knees at seeing his tattoos on fire. “Oh God,” she whispered, looking at him. “What…what’s happening?”
He shook his head, his hands braced against the wall behind him. “I don’t know. But don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
The desperate need in his words wiped her fear away and she took hold of him in both hands, her eyes on the heaving muscles of his torso. She wasn’t afraid. It was odd, like looking at a surreal fantasy. She closed her eyes and slid the head of his erection along her lips and Ruin growled. She looked up to find his head back and the muscles in his neck standing out. So beautiful. Every bit of him.
She filled her mouth with him and he erupted in choked groans his fingers tangling in her hair, stopping her. She turned her eyes up and found his mouth hard, clamped tight. She moaned on him and began sliding him in and out, licking slowly around the thick head. “Isadore!” he gasped, looking into her eyes now, holding her head between his hands. He pumped his hips and the way his mouth hung open and forehead crimped in agony, the way he watched her take him with an eagerness was insanely arousing.
She stroked his balls with her nails, hoping it was okay to do. He let out a sharp growl and removed himself from her mouth. “Stop!”
Isadore jumped. His angry tone shattered the mood and he suddenly put his hands on his head and paced, hissing like he was in pain, the tattoos on his body changing to nearly white.
Isadore slowly stood, a feeling of shame creeping into her mind at what she was doing. She’d done what she’d sworn not to do, she gave in to the flesh and—
“Stop it!” He spun to her. “I’m begging you.”
Isadore jumped again. He’d hissed the words right in her face. “What am I doing?” she barely whispered, so confused.
“You’re… making me need it, need to do what you don’t want to do.”
“What… do
n’t I want?”
“To fuck!” he said. “You don’t want to fuck me and yet you do, your mind and your body they don’t agree, Isadore, when your mind agrees, your body doesn’t, your body agrees but your mind won’t and never are either the same at the same time! It’s driving me crazy!” He paced again, grabbing handfuls of his beautiful hair. “And on top of that I seem to have this need to not give myself pleasure, it’s like…there is something that tells me to… punish. Something. Something is wrong and needs to be punished and my power nearly jumps out of my body at the point when I need to release and says not you! Not you, you don’t deserve it!” He gasped, looking at her, the face of a man who’d just witnessed a horrific tragedy. “Not me, Isadore.” He placed his hand on his chest, appearing so confused. “Who am I Isadore? That I need to be punished?”
“Punished?”
Chapter Fourteen
Ruin couldn’t believe she’d just repeated him. He reminded himself that it was just a habit she had. “Punish me!” he slapped his chest with his palm now, needing desperately for her to understand. “I need to punish me. It’s like I want you to want me only to use it to punish myself. I thought I needed to please you but…now I don’t know.” He looked at her, rage beginning to take him. “I don’t know!” And how sick he was of not knowing or knowing everything that wasn’t worth knowing!
“Good God man, calm down.” The shower curtain behind them yanked open then quickly shut back with Isadore’s scream. “My apologies Miss Isadore, please clothe yourself,” Caliber grumbled.
“Are you kidding?” Isadore gasped before scrambling for her robe hanging on the back of the door.
Ruin was torn between killing the man-being, and hugging him. He was there to help, he could feel it, thankfully for Caliber.
“She’s done,” Ruin said. “Why are you here?”