Page 60 of Invoking Ruin

“You saved me from your own hunters, Vita. Doesn’t really count.”

He’s right, and I hate it. I glare at him. “If you’re looking for me to be sorry, you’ll be disappointed. I’m not. Not for any of it. I’ve had you to myself. No one interfering, no one stealing your attention. I’d do it all again. The exact same way.”

The air chills around us, his eyes going hard as crystals. Yes, I’ve pushed too far. Much too far.

“You claim you’re not sorry,” he says. “But what about those regrets of yours, Vita? Are they just hypothetical?”

The words—barbs really—land sharp and deep. He knows my regrets run deep, and are very real. I don’t know how he knows, because it’s not as though I’ve been baring my soul to him. He caught on anyway.

“Fuck you, Sandro.” I climb out of the pool, unwilling to play this game any longer. There’s a cruelty in him today, a sharpness I don’t recognize as the bartender I’ve been watching over. The easiness is gone. My stomach clenches.

I’ve done this to him, and I regret that more than he knows.

“If that’s what you want.” His arms embrace me hard, and I let out a shriek as he lifts me clear off the ground. I didn’t even hear him leave the water. How did he move so quickly?

“Sandro, put me down!” I claw at his arms, kick at his legs, but he only grunts, carrying me inside the pavilion and throwing me onto the bed.

I roll onto my back just as he crawls over me. Heat floods my core, my breath coming in quick. He can’t really mean to do this. Sandro would never. Not the sweet, bright man I’ve come to know. But as he grabs my hands, pinning them over my head, the reality sinks in.

Yes, yes he would. The wild god beneath demands it.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, as though belatedly remembering to ask for my consent.

I shake my head, wordless. He doesn’t need to ask. I’m already primed, needy.

Vines crawl up from the headboard, lacing around my wrists, binding them fast. He’s getting good at controlling them.

“Last chance. Give me the words, or I’ll leave you like this.”

“No, don’t stop.” I’ve not a single ounce of self-preservation. I like bad decisions, bad choices. Throwing myself off the cliff onto sharp rocks below.

I’m positive that’s what I’ve just done by letting him have me.

He said we’d make each other miserable, but I don’t care. It’s a problem for tomorrow.

Today, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m done denying us both.

Above me, Sandro’s smile is sharp as a blade. He kicks my legs open, working his thigh between them. I grind against him, shameless.

“You’ve fought all of Olympus, but you’d do anything I asked you, wouldn’t you?” He traces a hand over my cheek in a mockery of a loving touch, and I still lean into it like a hungry fool.

“Anything for you.”

He chuckles. “I should fuck that lying mouth of yours. Would you like that? To choke on my cock?”

I buck my hips, so incredibly empty. His words are poison, but I crave them anyway. I crave every cruel touch, every acidic threat. I hold them close, like a starving woman with only crumbs of bread.

“Sandro…”

“Ah, but that’s not my name, now is it?” He taunts me, trailing his hand down from my cheek over my neck to cup my breast. “You’ll give me anything,” he goes on, and I whimper as he gives my nipple a sharp pinch, “but not my own name? You know what I think?”

He bends over to soothe my abused nipple with his tongue.

“I think you don’t care what I think.” I gasp out, tugging at my restraints as he sucks the beaded peak in his mouth, and I writhe on the bed. He keeps his thigh from making contact with my cunt, denying me the friction I so desperately need. He hasn’t taken my ability to come with his power this time, but tied up like this, he doesn’t need to.

I’m entirely at his mercy.

“I don’t care,” he agrees, plucking my other nipple lazily between two fingers. “Because I don’t think we have anything between us. You said we had one night together. That’s all, isn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. “Which means they have words for what you are, Vita. None of them kind.”

---