Page 45 of Bound By Ruin

Mykrosotkacan do better than that.

Pinching her nipple between my teeth then sucking hard, I groan at the breathless way she moans, her back arching and pushing her breast into my mouth. I open my jaw wider, taking more of her flesh between my teeth, andbite. Hard. Bruising her skin, groaning at the thought of marking her pretty body, grabbing her hips to keep her steady as she squeals, high-pitched and panicked. The sound echoes in the chamber and reverberates inside my ribcage, finding its home wrapped around my heart.

“R-Ruin!” Her breathless cries spur me on, and after lathing the bite mark with my tongue, I latch onto her other breast and do the same, closer to the nipple, catching the tip with my teeth as I pull back to admire her purpling skin. My marks. My cries. My body.

Mine.

I trail my lips along her collarbone, then tip up to kiss the long column of her throat, enjoying the vibrations of her voice on my tongue. I drag in a breath and moan with her, my cock suddenly rock hard and aching all over again, like it can’t get enough of her.

My heart agrees, pumping hard and fast.

“Krosotka,” I rasp, grabbing her ass and squeezing, “you’ll look so pretty when you fly.” I press an open-mouthed kiss to her forehead then dip to claim her mouth, drowning in desire for this woman. I want so many things from her, and I don’t know how to keep up with the rapid-fire pace of them shocking my system.Bang, bang, bang—like a clip emptying into my chest, burrowing each new idea into my heart and soul. For now, I want to taste this moment—hear the way she sounds falling through the air, unable to catch herself, unable tobreathe?—

I test our connection by pushing her a little, teetering her over the edge. She gasps and leans her weight forward into me, but without use of her hands or feet, she bends like a rag doll to my will. I hold her out at arm’s length as she scrambles for purchase, trying in vain to latch onto the platform with her toes.

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t do this! Ruin,please!” Her eyes widen beautifully, the flush across her cheeks paling with her sudden alarm.

“What’s wrong,krosotka?” I grip the silk knot between her wrists as tightly as I can, knowing that this is the final moment before I let go. “I’m right here with you.”

I will always be with you.

With one final push, she falls like an angel from the heavens, her body wrapped in the prettiest silk but a devil’s touch marring her skin, marking her as mine.

Forevermine.

Chapter18

Thanatos

Celia’s screamechoes as she falls from a platform two stories high, my heart leaping to my throat at the way her body drops like a stone. My youngest brother stands at the top, shirtless and damn near glowing in the gentle spotlight, his skin pale despite the scars on his body. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he was Lucifer himself, already having rended the wings from his flesh and cast them aside, now watching his chosen prey fall from grace, damned by his touch.

I don’t wish ill will on any of my brothers, but there’s a layer of hell made for men like us—especially for a man like Ruin.

Tormenting girls just to hear them screamcan’tbe a kink that goes unpunished, especially when she pleaded with his name on her lips.

Ruin, please!

I clench my eyes shut and shake her voice from my head, knowing that it will join the rest of the sounds catalogued in my brain. The bubble of her laughter. The gut-wrenching way she sobs. And now, the cutting edge of her screams, slicing through my heart like a knife.

I wouldn’t say that Celia Monrovia deserves my brothers’ torment, but for better or worse, they chose her… and she keeps choosing them. Over and over again, crawling into their beds, accepting their kisses, demanding their sacrifices—oh, yes, claiming Celia comes at a price that I don’t think my brothers realize they’re paying.

The three of them are lost, falling in love with a woman they have no business getting attached to.

The problem is that I might be falling with them.

I don’t want to love anyone else. The three or four people who share the title ofloved one—all of which I consider family, including Ezra Reinoff—have earned that title on account of saving my life and each other’s.

Celia Monrovia has done neither of those things, yet she has poisoned my body to react to hers on a cellular level. When she screams, the hairs on my arms raise, and all I want to do is run towards her and catch her in my arms.

It’s stupid, because there’s a fucking net waiting to catch her, but I want it to be me.Iwant to be the one to fold her in my arms and kiss her tears away, and the urge to sweep her off of her dainty little feet and carry her to safety is so strong that I have to bar myself from interfering. I wrap my fists around a metal rung of a nearby ladder and grit my teeth as she bounces on her back into the net, choking on her fear as it consumes her.

My brother, ever the dramatist, jumps after her, leaping from thirty feet in the air. He’s fucking crazy, too. Everything about this situation is insane. I never expected to walk through that door and find them together, nor did I expect to witness them having sex.

That’s thelastthing I ever,everthought I’d find.

In truth, I wanted to catch her alone.

As always, I was too late.

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