Page 184 of Ruin My Life
“So wet,” he mutters, licking his lips. “So fucking perfect.”
I rise onto my elbows and glance back just in time to see him shove his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion.
God.
He’s huge—thick and already slick with precum, the tip flushed and straining toward me. Every inch of him is mouth-watering, and the sight alone makes me clench around his fingers.
“Hands on the headboard, little rose,” he commands, giving my ass a light smack as he urges me forward.
I obey, gripping the curved wood as he positions himself behind me, lining up. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me flush against him.
“This is your last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, voice gravel rough. “Ask me to be gentle.”
I roll my lips together, eyes blazing, and shake my head.
“I want it,” I say. “I wantyou.”
A growl rips from his chest—low, dangerous, unrestrained. He palms one cheek, squeezing hard until I gasp.
“You yellstopif it’s too much. Promise me.”
“Promise,” I pant, glancing over my shoulder. “Now stop worrying about me… andfuckme, Damon.”
He drives into me hard enough to steal the breath from my lungs.
His cock slams deep, nailing that devastating spot inside me with brutal precision, making my vision blur and my thoughts scatter.
Every punishing thrust sends the bed crashing into the wall, the headboard rattling violently under my grip. The sound of the posts thudding against drywall echoes with the slap of his thighs pounding into mine—relentless, feral, perfect.
He wasn’t kidding about being rough.
His fingers sink into the flesh of my ass, bruising with every squeeze, every commanding pull—and I want more.
All of it. The pain. The pleasure. The way he fucks me like he’s trying to carve his name into my soul.
The wet, filthy sound of his cock plunging into me echoes through the room—obscene and addictive. I crave the way he pulls out to the tip just to slam back in harder, each thrust accompanied by a grunt torn from his chest.
His breathing grows ragged, his muscles flexing as he drives himself closer to the edge. I can feel it in the way he throbs inside me—harder, more desperate.
Then he leans over my back, skin slick with sweat, and hooks his arm beneath my chest. His forearm slots between my breasts, palm curling around my throat with practiced ease. He yanks me upright against his front, my hands slipping from the headboard as I’m fully impaled on him, arched back, head falling against his shoulder.
And he doesn’t slow down.
If anything, it’s worse—deeper. Wilder. Every thrust strikes a nerve ending, every breathless second a new ignition point. His grip tightens around my throat—just enough to make my breath stutter, to blur the edges of my vision.
“You like that, little rose?” he rasps, his breath hot against my ear. “You like being fucked like a whore while I take your breath away?”
“F–fuck, yeah,” I whimper, thighs shaking as my third orgasm builds like wildfire in an August drought.
“Yeah?” His teeth sink into the place where my neck meets shoulder, biting down before sucking hard. I know he’s leaving a mark. Claiming me. “How about when I mark you? So everyone knows who you belong to.”
“Yes,” I pant, trembling from the inside out. “Yes, Damon—fuck,please!”
His groans grow louder, more guttural, as he grips tighter. “You’re so fucking good. Take me—take me like a good fucking girl,mi rosa. Just like that.”
My vision goes white.
Pleasure sears through my body, burning every thought from my brain as I scream his name, the sound torn from me in a release so intense it robs me of breath. I come hard, violently—my body locking around him, milking every throb of his cock as he groans into my neck.
