Page 61 of Invoking Ruin

“I know that.” I grind my teeth, looking away as his twilight gaze lands on me.

“Sulking now? How about this? You tell me if anything I guess is wrong. If I’m wrong, I’ll make you come. If I’m right…” He balls his hand into a fist, and I feel a barrier in my sex, a tightly coiled spring squeezed down, unable to snap.

Fuck. I’m so fucked.

“Sandro. Please.”

“Begging already? I thought you were stronger than that. This will go too quickly if you can’t hold out.”

I’d beg for anything he would give me. He doesn’t understand, and he’s not even paying attention, anymore. Instead, he’s staring down at my body, his eyes fixed on the parting of my thighs, my skin pink and shining with arousal.

“I never got to taste you, did I?” His purple eyes flicker up to me, gleaming wickedly. “Not even on that night you’re so fond of?”

“Never,” I admit, breathless.

I’ve sealed my own fate. His smile turns feral, and he shifts between my legs, leaning over until I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin.

I squirm, and he pins my hips down with one arm.

“Well, we should rectify that, shouldn’t we?” Without waiting for my reply, he drags his tongue the length of my opening, lapping up my desire until his lips close around my clit, and he sucks.

I buck off the bed, crying out. The woody vines around my wrist abrade and tear but it’s barely a passing thought next to the feeling of Sandro devouring my flesh. Like he needs me more than he needs air.

He doesn't need air, not really, but I won't tell him that.

Every lick, every suck, every nibble burns like its own little brand, pushing me higher and higher with no hope of release. He might as well torture me with hot pokers and spikes for how I feel now. It’s madness, knowing my own release is impossible, only this never-ending build while I squirm and beg.

It’s nothing like how it had been in the shower. Then, Sandro had been hesitant to take it too far, to lose his own control, but he seems in no danger of that today.

He has me so firmly in his hand, and I’ll break before he lets me go.

“Sandro, please.” I don’t even know what I'm begging for. My entire world has narrowed to the place where his mouth plunders my wet flesh. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

He draws back, and I whine, wrapping my leg around his back to try and drag him in, but he only chuckles.

“Poor Vita. Not in control now, are you?” His thumb lazily traces my clit, and I buck my hips, trying to seek out absolutely useless friction.

“No wonder you didn’t want me to fuck you,” he goes on, while I absolutely lose my mind. “If I’d known what an eager little slut you’d turn into…”

I gasp as he leans down and laps at my clit. Is this even affecting him? He’s like a cat playing with his food. And I’m such an eager little mouse. This isn’t how the game is supposed to go, and it isn’t how it’s gone for so long.

But he’s right. I am eager for his touch, for his attention. He’s all I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever needed.

“Tell me my name, Vita.” He commands as he pulls away once more, leaving me to cry out in desperation.

He’s not unmoved. His eyes are practically black, his breath coming in short bursts, and I can see his cock straining toward me. It jerks as I stare at it and lick my lips.

“Eyes up here.” He snaps his fingers, and I drag my gaze up to meet his. “You know how beautiful you are. How fucking tempting. Don’t look so surprised.”

But I am. Not about the objective facts—I am a goddess, and I am beautiful, and tempting. My entire power rests on my ability to tempt. None of those realities had ever seemed to matter to him, not really.

But as he slides up my body, his cock dragging against my skin, it’s undeniable.

He’d been hard in the shower too, had come all over my stomach like a teenage boy.

But this feels different. He’d been finding himself back in that hotel room, stumbling along in the dark, still purely mortal.

I don’t think that’s the case now.

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