Page 48 of Tempted to Rebel

Celia reaches up and touches Ruin’s neck, fingering his t-shirt collar and brushing her fingertips over the scars visible there. “Ruin,” she breathes, her chest rising delicately, “can I see?” Her hands wander higher, curving around his throat and across his jaw. She keeps her eyes closed, but her brow pinches in concentration as she brushes her fingers over his jaw, his chin, then finally, his lips.

Ruin’s throat bobs on a swallow. “Krosotka—” He grimaces, his voice laced with pain. I hardly breathe as he takes Celia’s hand in his and presses a kiss to her palm. “It hurts.”

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to hurt a little at first. It’ll get better.” She caresses his face, blindly smoothing her palm over his mottled skin.

“She’s being so good for you, Ruin,” I interrupt, desperate to refocus on the purpose of this exercise. “Doesn’t she deserve a reward?”

Celia’s lips twist into a frown. “Rebel,” she hisses in a whisper, “don’t.”

I squeeze her throat gently. “C’mon, baby, don’t you want another kiss?” Looking back up at my brother, I nod. He can do this. Heneedsto do this. For fuck’s sake, this’ll go on forever if he just keeps staring at her?—

Slowly, he lowers his face toward hers. Celia’s fingers catch in the hair at the nape of his neck, and I watch as he brushes his lips over hers. It’s the barest of touches—hardly a kiss at all—but he groans like a man buried balls deep inside of her as his body spasms and his grip on her hips tightens. Celia locks her hands around his neck and pulls him closer, sealing their lips together in arealkiss.

And, holy fucking shit, this is what I’ve been waiting for.

They’re delicate with each other, testing the waters with a fluidity and grace that’s damn near angelic. She gives a little moreoomph, and he absorbs the impact with a bone-weary sigh that belies how much he needs this.

I almost feel like I’m intruding.

Curving my body over hers, I press my lips to Celia’s throat and skim my teeth over the cut that mysteriously appeared the other day. It’s healed by now, but the tiniest sliver of a scar remains. A little time at the beach in the sun and sand will likely scrub it off, but for now, we all know that it’s there.

I think Ruin likes the idea of having marked her for good.

She shivers, and it goes right through her body and into both of ours. I hum against her neck, sucking on the tender spot until I leave a new mark. “Tell us how good you feel, beautiful.” Finding her breast, I knead it in my palm, enjoying the weight of her flesh.

She gasps, her eyes clenching shut. “R-Rebel,” she whines, andfuck me, that’s hot.

“Mmm, baby, you’re gonna get me going, talking like that.” That’s a lie—I’m already hot and heavy for her. I’ll always be hot and heavy for her.

One of her hands wanders my body, the other still rooted firmly in Ruin’s hair, until she brushes against the keys in my pocket.

Oh, yeah, we were gonna go for a drive.

She gasps, and at first I think that Ruin’s grabbed her ass, but then she whips the keys from my pocket and shoves them into my gut. “Car ride,” she demands, snapping her eyes open. Ruin retreats and pulls his mask back into place before she can see anything, but she’s too caught between the two of us to give either her full attention. Her gaze pings back and forth, her eyes shining brightly. “Car ride,” she says again, digging her nails into my abs. “Right now.”

My responding grin is wolfish. “Okay, baby, you win. Let’s go for a ride.”

Reaching behind her, she grabs Ruin’s hand and smiles at him. “Ride with me, okay?”

I can’t see Ruin’s face, but I don’t have to. He stumbles out the door behind her, as whipped as I am and just as ready for whatever she throws our way next.

Chapter 18

Ruin

Sometimes,I think my body doesn’t work like it should. I watch the men inMidnightfuck around with their tongues and cocks out, wetting people’s lips and driving into each other with an energy that can only be described as violent. They sweat, they curse, they spill their seed all over the floor and all over each other, not caring to clean up the mess that’s left over, rolling around in it like pigs in the mud.

I know that Rebel shoots off like a rocket when he comes. At night when Celia’s asleep, sometimes he’ll stroke his dick, breathless and desperate, writhing beside her. I think he wishes she would wake up and tend to his body, but she never does.

Thanatos is wearing her out in the mornings—that, or she’s pregnant and spending all of her energy supporting the life starting to grow inside of her.

I don’t mind that she’s too tired to have sex, but my brothers miss it. I can see it in the way Rage flexes his entire body, tightening every single muscle to divert the blood flow from his cock. Or how Rebel kisses her like she’s his favorite addiction, stealing the air from her lungs just as quickly as she’s stealing his heart.

But there are pieces of me missing, and I think this is one of them. I don’t come in an eruption of heat and bliss like my brothers’ do. It’s a quick burst, a rush of fluid, and a bone-deep weightlessness that lets me forget how broken my body is for that brief moment.

I wonder what it feels like for Celia when she’s with us. I’ve seen her come dozens of times now—I dream of the way her face turns bright crimson, the blood quickly rushing to the surface, and of the softness of her pink pussy, slick with her desire as she comes on her fingersandon mine—but I haven’t felt it the same way my brothers’ have. They bury themselves inside her heat and feel her body welcome them deeper, begging to be filled.

If I put my dick inside of her, will her body beg for it, too? Can I make her come as hard as my brothers’ do, or will she realize that I’ll always be this broken tangle of sharp edges and limbs that can’t make her feel the same way they do?

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