Page 35 of Ruin
“I missed how you taste,” I tell him before licking his slit to get as much flavor as I can.
His head thumps against the door, his fingers spearing through my hair over and over again.
I massage his balls, kiss and lick his dick, choke on it, do everything I can to enjoy it and not send him over the edge. If he wants me to make him come this way, he’ll tell me. But I know it’s what neither of us wants.
A moment later, he’s hoisting me up to my feet.
“I need to be inside you.”
I tear my shirt off over my head and drop it to the floor.
“Tell me how you want me.”
He steps to me, hand cupping my cheek before he kisses me. I suck in a breath, reveling in how soft his lips are, how he tastes slightly of whiskey and too much like bad decisions.
“On the bed. Naked,” he whispers before dropping his hand.
I feel the loss immediately. My cheek fits into his palm as if it was made for it, and he has this way of touching me that is so gentle yet so possessive at the same time. I crave it always. It’s a comfort I don’t get in much else.
He holds my gaze, waiting for me to move. I take a moment just to watch him before stepping away and getting naked.
“That’s new,” he says, pointing to a tattoo on my chest.
I glance down at it, but I don’t comment on it. I don’t want to talk about it. I get on the bed, lying down on my back. He stands at the foot of the bed, hand around his dick.
“Let me watch you,” he says.
I wrap my hand around my dick and slowly drag it upwards, then run my fingers back down. I drag my finger through the slit, pulling it away and watching the string of cum thin out before detaching. I bring it to my lips, and he groans.
“I always taste better when I’m with you,” I tell him.
“How good?”
“So fucking good,” I say, bringing my hand back to my dick.
He works on the buttons of his shirt, undoing one at a time while his eyes stay on my dick. I jerk off, slower than I normallywould because with him staring at me like this, I’ll come in seconds. I don’t want to come unless he’s inside of me. It always feels best that way, when we’re connected.
When his shirt is off, he tosses it away. He steps back to lean against the dresser, opening his pants a little more and bringing his hand to his dick.
“You’re perfect, Kolton,” he says.
It’s not what he says but how he says it. There’s something in his voice that makes me believe what he says. Even though I know I’m a piece of shit who can’t do anything right, Lucian makes me believe I’m better. When I’m with him, he makes me feel like I do something right, even if it is only giving him my body.
“I come first today,” he rasps out, shoving his pants off. “I need it.”
I nod in acknowledgment.
So much control with him. He always has to be in control, but he does it in a way that makes it look easy. It’s not easy. I crave control of my life and never get it, no matter how hard I try.
It’s only when I’m with him that I don’t feel the need to be in control, which doesn’t make sense. But I guess maybe it has to do with being able to say no. If I tell him no, he’ll stop. If I say I don’t like something, he’ll stop.
He isn’t my father.
Before making his way to the bed, he digs into his bag that’s on the floor and pulls out a bottle of lube and a condom. I try to hide the twist in my gut, but I feel it in my face.
I hate that we have to use condoms. I want to feel his cum inside me, I want it to soak into me, become a part of me.
And I know why he makes us use them, I just hate thinking about it.
