Page 22 of Red Ruin
Every suck of his mouth pumps between my legs as he hungrily tugs at my soul.
He strokes my neck with long, clawed fingers and grinds his heavy cock between my spreading thighs.
Oh,fuck.
It’s so good.
Remington Azrid is made of blood and shadow.
His thirst is blinding, but past his out-of-control instinct to feed, I fall head-first into his flickering delight.
It’s beyond want.
Beyond like.
His primal hunger rips the bottom out of my stomach.
So does his tongue, lapping between his sucking fangs.
Remingtonneedsto devour me.
Now, I kind of want to let him.
As he takes my blood into his body, Remington opens to my soul-silks. Our souls thread together like they’ve always been one.
The first peek inside Remington feels like shining a flashlight into a chasm. He’s cold, bottomless, and so choked with tangled shadows that I’m going to need a psychic blowtorch to find the root of his damage.
Give me enough time, and I promise I’ll find a way to fish his humanity out of the dark.
But I’ll never survive that long if Remington sucks offgallonsof my blood.
Guides heal fast, but notthatfast.
“Enough.” Head spinning, I try to nudge him off my throat, but my fingers are hooked in his belt.
How did that happen?
I blink, and by the time my lids lift, I’ve lost the plot again.
Remington’s weight is gone. Our silks ripped apart.
I reel, empty and dizzy-confused.
There’s a much louderbang, followed by clanging, crashing, and a chorus of beastly snarls.
It takes a minute to breathe past the whiplash. I ease upright on Remington’s desk, applying pressure to the holes in my throat.
His fourth-floor office is missing a wall.
What’s left is on fire.
Just like my plans of being a normal, hardworking Guide.
I must’ve lost a dangerous amount of blood, because I can’t feel the raging magic until I teeter to the smoking edge of the building.
Vhex floats on wings of fire.
In fully exploded, rampaging devil-mode, he’s pink-skinned, red-eyed, and made of horn-to-toe lightning and hellfire.
