Ravens Ruin MC: The Complete Series

by Marie James

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m cold.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” His eyes find mine, greedy hands stilling on my hips.

  “I told you I was nervous.”

  “And you once claimed a little pain made you wet.” He punctuates his declaration with a sharp stinging bite to my left breast.

  My moan is my confession, and the knowing look in his eyes becomes a challenge.

  “I want you to go slow.”

  His tongue dips into my belly button, and I hate the scratch of his t-shirt on my legs. We’re supposed to be skin to skin, and he hasn’t made a single move to get naked.

  “No, you don’t.”

  His breath heats my damp flesh with flawless precision. He doesn’t treat me like a man who has been abstinent for the last decade. His skilled mouth and hands are more than I ever could’ve imagined. He touches me like he’s been doing it every day of his life.

  “Get naked,” I insist again.

  His laugh turns into a sultry moan when he gets the first taste of me. My body craves him incessantly, but knowing that today is the day, I’m hypersensitive to his touch.

  Parting me with his tongue, that adept muscle brushes over my clit and electricity gathers like a lightning storm in my belly.

  “This is enough for me.” The shakiness in his tone betrays the lie.

  “Not enough for me.” I don’t push him away or try to close my legs because I’m not dumb. If the man wants to spend all day with his head between my legs, I’ll let him. I won’t let it keep him from sealing the deal eventually.

  “I need you to come,” he urges, tongue working my clit, fingers tracing my entrance.

  “I need—”

  My words stall when he does something he’s never done before. The tip of one finger dips inside of me, and the invasion is too much for words. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not foreign like I thought it would be. My body is shaking, clasping at him and begging for more.

  He’s plunged his tongue there more times than I can count, but this is different. This is too much and somehow not enough. It makes no sense, yet my body knows it’s exactly what I’ve been missing.

  “So sweet.” He sucks on me harder, pushes his finger deeper. “So fucking tight. There’s no way I won’t hurt you. My cock is too big for this tiny pussy.”

  His filthy words, more than anything else, are my undoing.

  “Jesus,” he purrs against my quivering flesh as my body sucks at the digit still buried inside. “Can you handle more?”

  He doesn’t give me time to respond as he pulls his finger free only to delve back in with two. Pushing past sensitive tissue and clenching muscles, he spreads his fingers, opening me, preparing me for his invasion. We both know he’d have to shove more than two fingers in there to fully prepare me, but I’m devious, knowing the imminent bite of pain is going to make me come quicker than anything else.

  I don’t question the perverse need, and I don’t confess that my nervousness earlier was more about liking it than being afraid.

  “I need you,” I husk out on a moan when he tries to press three fingers into me.

  “I can’t fuck you.” His mouth pulls away from me, and I’m revved up enough to punch him in the eye if he stops this now.

  “You have to.”

  “I’ll come. I’m so close already.”

  “Fuck my mouth before you fuck my pussy.” I don’t have to worry about the recharge. It hasn’t been an issue since that first day I wrapped my mouth around him.

  “You’re perfect,” he praises, shoving his sweats down as he knee-walks toward me.

  “Shirt too.”

  It’s off in a flash, and the straining head of his cock is pressing against my lips. I want to tease him, to make him beg, but the second he pushes past my lips his fingers dive back inside of me, and I’m lost. Voracious is the only way to describe how I’m feasting on him. The soundtrack of need fills the air. The melody of sucking, groaning, and filthy praise coming from Briar heats me up even more. Sloppily, I lick him, teasing his slit with enthusiasm because I know how close he is. We’re two trains on the same track about to collide. His cock jerks against my tongue just as my core clenches in fevered relief.

  “Molly.” My name is a slow hiss on his lips.

  He’s not as boneless as I am after coming twice. He’s primal, animalistic even when he covers my body with his.

  “Are you ready—?”

  He’s inside of me, breaking me apart and putting me back together before I can respond. He was right when he called me out on my lie about wanting to go slow. Slow isn’t for us. The thought of languid strokes does nothing for me. The deep, fluid thrusts he’s punishing me with right now are my reward.

  “I’ve waited so long for this.” My eyes flutter, mouth agape with the inability to form sounds. “You’re so fucking tight. So pure. An innocent little girl letting me defile you like this, hurt you like this.”

  “More,” I pant.

  “Don’t move,” he hisses when I try to roll my hips. I hear rather than see his hands clench into fists near my ears. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He presses harder, immersing himself into me farther than I ever thought possible. The pain is euphoric, a devious splash that’s quickly conquered by deep-rooted need.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His brow scrunches, but he never takes his eyes off of me, never pulls his arms from where they’re wrapped around my back and over the tops of my shoulder. “Come. Please come.”

  The quaver in his voice, the unadulterated demand forces my body to obey. I can’t decipher my orgasm from his as we both jerk with release. Unexplained tears sting my eyes as his harsh breaths against my lips deprive me of clean oxygen. I love every second of it. The rough teasing, the prepping, the stinging invasion. Every damn second. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect first time.

  I don’t even bother to hide my wince when he pulls free of me.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  I huff a laugh at the ridiculous question. Of course, he hurt me, and I revel in the knowledge that it’ll hurt again the next time he shoves himself inside of me. He’s a lot to get used to.

  “It was perfect.”

  “I came inside of you.”

  “You want to nut on my face next time?” I turn toward him, tucking myself under his arm. “It’s not on the top of my list, but I’ll let you if that’s what you want.”

  “I can’t get you pregnant.”

  I stiffen at his words, but the longer I think about it, the more acceptable that outcome seems.

  “I can hear your wheels turning,” he mutters, muscles on his stomach jumping under my trailing fingers. “Your brothers may be okay with us together right now, but Lynch would string me up if I got you pregnant at eighteen.”

  Before I can argue about my life and my choices a loud boom echoes just outside of the door.

  Briar is off the bed, gun in hand, and crossing the room before I can blink.

  “What’s your problem?” TJ’s voice must snap Briar back into reality because he takes the time to shove his legs back into his sweats before he pulls open the door.

  “Explain yourself,” Lynch snaps.

  I can’t see him because Briar’s wide shoulders are blocking my view, but I know that tone.

  “It isn’t a big fucking deal,” TJ hisses, and I’m certain his knife is in his grip even if he has no intention of using it.

  “Not a big deal? Are you fucking kidding me? Since when is having a girl locked in a cage in the basement, not a big fucking deal?”

  And true to Ravens Ruin history, the cycle of chaos continues.

  Epitaph

  “Destroy the part of you that searches for angels in places you know only monsters exist”

  ~ Erin Van Vuren

  Prologue

  TJ

  She’s stunning, the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen, but it isn’t her long blonde hair scattered on the pillow or the plumpness i
n her lips as she lies in repose that heats my blood and kicks my heart up a notch. Her nakedness, the bare curves of her body, and the dusky-rose nipples, drawn tight by the coolness in the air, are merely adjectives, accessories to the real allure.

  “Look how fucking sexy that is,” I mutter, shocked at the sound of my voice because I hadn’t meant to praise her perfection out loud.

  “Sick fuck,” Briar mutters beside me.

  He doesn’t see what I see. He can’t appreciate the transcendent sight of the girl on the bed. His concerns lie elsewhere, which is fine. It gives me more time to admire her.

  The sight of her covered in blood has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The only displeasure I allow to seep in is the fact that it’s not her blood.

  Or mine.

  My cock thickens behind my zipper at just the thought of covering her milky smooth skin with my own blood.

  “Are we going to leave her there?”

  What the hell does Briar expect us to do with her?

  “Let her wake up in this mess,” I say without pulling my eyes from her. “Maybe she’ll learn her fucking lesson.”

  Honestly, she’s just too superb to disrupt.

  The problem, also Briar’s main concerns, are the three dead guys at our feet and the currently living one whimpering in the corner. I ignore all of it as I step over the gore and get closer to her.

  “You should be safe at home reading a book or something, beautiful.” I push her hair from her cheek so I can see her face better. “Now, you’re here covered in blood.”

  She whimpers, her hazy green eyes fluttering open for only the briefest of seconds before her long lashes rest once again on her rosy cheeks.

  “You want to be identified?” Briar hisses from the other side of the room.

  Ignoring him, I swipe my finger through a splash of blood on her arm before lifting it to her face. “It was my pleasure saving you.”

  Chapter 1

  Kaci

  “Ms. Stewart?”

  I don’t know how long I’ve been here. My head is foggy, like thick vapor. Nothing seems real. The world around me is a fabrication of reality, and if I’m being honest, I’d love to live in this dream state forever. Nothing hurts here. Nothing is hurting me, and I’m not thinking of hurting myself. The change of pace is comforting.

  “Ms. Stewart?” I look up at the female glaring down at me. “Take this and wipe your face.”

  I saw myself in the mirror before the police arrived at the house party earlier. The ghostly, ashen face that stared back at me was unrecognizable, much like the bodies scattered around the floor.

  The heart drawn in blood on my face is both terrifying and soothing, placed there by an angel who had no idea I didn’t want to be saved. Even though I’m reluctant to remove it, I press the damp cloth to my cheek as instructed.

  “Why did you kill those men?”

  A humorless chuckle erupts from my throat. “Kill them? I didn’t kill them.”

  “You were the only other person left alive in the room.” The male police officer that has been standing on the other side of the room closes the distance, placing his hands on the table directly in front of me. He crowds my space as if this intimidation tactic is going to work on me. “Three men have been brutally murdered, and you want us to believe that they left you alive for no reason?”

  I don’t bother answering. The female police officer looks at me with pleading eyes, as if she’s saying she’s on my side. I’ve watched enough damn TV to know the whole good cop, bad cop routine.

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “Did your boyfriend do this? Did he catch you upstairs ready to spread your thighs for three men and lose his shit?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Plain, simple truth.

  “So some random person comes up there, hacks three people to bits, draws a sick fucking heart on your face, and I’m supposed to believe you had nothing to do with it?”

  The female officer’s eyes cut to the man in my face, irritation clear in her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything to reel him in.

  “The last thing I remember is dancing downstairs. I don’t even know how I got in that room.” I swallow thickly before continuing. “I-I think they drugged me.”

  “Did they rape you?” The female officer pushes away from the wall to get a better view of me.

  “I-I don’t know.” I grip the scratchy blanket I was provided at the house tighter around me. “Can you take me to the hospital?”

  “Fuck my life,” the male officer huffs before standing and backing away.

  “Give it a rest, McGee. Look at her. She can barely hold her head up. I told you she should’ve been taken by medical before she was brought here.”

  If looks could kill, the female officer would be dead on the floor. Seems her counterpart doesn’t like to be corrected.

  “Do you know, or have you had any prior encounters with Dean Smith, Edgar Romeo, or Chance Brown.”

  My head shakes, but Officer McGee doesn’t seem impressed. There isn’t anything I could say right now to make him change his train of thought. I imagine the video evidence could be presented of someone else murdering those guys, and he’d still come after me.

  My head shakes again, but the effort is no longer enough to keep the flashes from invading my vision.

  “Hey, gorgeous. I’m Max.” I look up at the frat boy I’d noticed earlier in the night. “You look thirsty.”

  My hand trembles as I reach for the red, plastic cup. I know what happens after this, not from experience, but from stories I’ve heard and read about recently. I know it wasn’t vitamins I watched this guy pour into a cup very similar to this only moments ago.

  “Thanks,” I say with a sweet smile before tilting the cup to my lips.

  “I don’t know any of them,” I explain when all McGee does is stare down at me. “I met a guy named Max downstairs.”

  “Max wasn’t one of the victims.” McGee spits the words through clenched teeth. Clearly, he’s easily flustered, but I can’t tell them more because I don’t know any details. I’d never be able to explain that I suspected I’d end up in that room with those guys.

  The possibilities send a jolt of unease up my spine. Drugged and taken advantage of by Max was a self-destructive bitter pill to swallow, but knowing there were at least three guys up there is a horror I don’t want to consider.

  McGee looks over his shoulder at his partner, and I see the slight shake of her head.

  “Can you go check on that lead?”

  The female cop shakes her head again. “Let’s get Ms. Stewart to the hospital for an examination, and then I’ll be free to follow-up.”

  I mouth a thank you to her while McGee is still staring at her. She’s refusing to leave me alone in the room with him, and I’m beyond grateful for that.

  “Send her in a cab,” McGee huffs when the officer holds a hand out, indicating for me to stand and follow her.

  “I’m taking her. We need to know the results of the rape kit.”

  “Rape?” McGee huffs with incredulity.

  His eyes sweep up and down my body. I shiver at the perusal, even though the blanket on my shoulders is wrapped tight and touching my knees. I’m naked underneath, but it feels as if he has x-ray vision and can see straight down to my soul.

  “Those boys are dead, murdered in cold blood,” McGee says to his partner, his rotund body blocking my path to the door. “And no matter what the exam results are, this department isn’t going to taint their memories.”

  “Give it a rest, McGee.”

  I slide past both of them and wait in the hall for the female officer. It takes several long minutes before their whispered, yet heated argument comes to an end.

  “I’m Detective Abigail Martin.”

  She doesn’t bother holding her hand out to shake because she’s well aware that my hands are tangled in the blanket.

  “I wish we had some clothes here at the st
ation.”

  I watch her back as she begins to walk down the corridor, unsure of where she’s leading me. She’s acting nice right now, but I’m sure it’s a ploy, just another part of the good cop, bad cop skit she and her partner have perfected over the years.

  “Follow me, please,” she says over her shoulder when she realizes I’m not following her.

  The walk to her car is short and filled with a heavy silence.

  “McGee is a dick,” she mutters as we close ourselves into the car.

  “That’s not going to work with me,” I advise as I struggle to clip my seatbelt over the blanket without having to expose any part of my skin.

  She sighs, nodding at the same time, and I can’t tell if she finally understands that she isn’t going to get anything out of me, or if she understands that I’d never trust her. Either way suits me.

  “Can you just take me home?”

  “You need to be seen at the hospital.” The sound of her blinker echoes in the silence. “Don’t let what McGee said back there keep you from finding out what happened in that room tonight.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” My eyes are trained on the darkness outside the window.

  At a red light, I can hear more than see her shift her weight in her seat.

  “It matters.” I don’t bother looking at her. “If those guys drugged you and brought you upstairs with the intent to rape you, they got exactly what they deserved.”

  Even without my eyes on her, I sense some truth in her opinion, but she still can’t be trusted. Cops will say anything, do anything, to get you to confess.

  She sighs again when I don’t engage, but before long we’re pulling up to a small hospital.

  “Have you been to the hospital here before?”

  “Where are we?”

  “Haverhill. I can walk you in, or you can go alone, but either way, the emergency room has to be used since it’s the middle of the night.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Climbing out of the car, I expect her to follow me inside, not to help in any way, but to get whatever evidence she could to take back to McGee to use against me. I’m still stunned that I’m entering the hospital rather than being tossed in a jail cell. They may not have enough evidence to hold me now, but I’m certain they’ll somehow find something to charge me with.