Page 26 of Ravaged and Ruined
“Not yet,” he warns. “I want to taste what’s mine first.”
“Spread your legs,” he orders, his voice low and dirty, and I obey without hesitation. The air hits the slick heat between my thighs and I shiver, every nerve lit up, aching for his touch.
Then he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging me to him by the hips. His gaze drops, his jaw tightening as he watches me. “You’re soaked,” he mutters, almost to himself.
My breath stutters as he lowers himself between my thighs and his mouth finds me. His fingers dig into my thighs, and when his mouth finally seals over my clit, I cry out, arching off the bed.
He licks and sucks with brutal precision, like he’s punishing me for making him want this so badly. For making him need me. His tongue is merciless, slow and punishing. Every stroke dragging me higher. I cry out, grinding against his face, but he pins my hips down, refusing to let me control the rhythm.
“Fuck, Lacey,” he growls against me. “You taste so good.”
I can’t hold back the sounds tearing from my throat, can’t stop the way I writhe beneath him. Helpless and greedy, my hips buck toward his mouth like I’ll die if I don’t have more. I’m panting, gasping, my skin slick with sweat, my thighs tremblingaround his head. It’s too much. It’s not enough. I’m coming apart and still somehow desperate for more.
I beg for it, mindlessly, breathlessly. My voice is barely more than a whimper, the kind of sound that would make me blush if I had any sense left in my body. But I don’t. All I have is a hot, frantic unrelenting need. My body is still twitching from the orgasm he just dragged out of me, but he doesn’t let up. His tongue moves slower now, savoring me, like he’s memorizing every shudder, every pulse of my core, and it kills me. I’m too raw, too open, but I want him there anyway. I want him to fill the emptiness he’s created with his mouth, with his fingers, with the fire he’s lit in every corner of me.
When he finally rises, I can barely breathe. My chest is heaving. My pulse is racing. I reach for him, needing him inside me now, needing that final connection, but he catches my hand.
“You ready for the part where I ruin you?” he rasps.
I stare up at him standing above me like a god, shirtless, chest heaving, muscles tight and all I can do is nod, because there’s no part of me that doesn’t want this. I want him.
Even if it ruins me.
“Please.” I all but whimper.
That single word snaps his self control, sending Aero into the same frenzied hurry I am. His belt hangs loose, the leather hissing as he yanks it the rest of the way free in one sharp pull. It’s a warning I feel in my spine. He tosses it aside, the snap of leather still ringing in my ears as his hands go to his jeans. One sharp shove and denim slides low over his hips, slow enough to make me squirm. His underwear follows his gaze never breaking from mine. He’s still in control, and making sure I know it. I gave it to him the second I dropped to my knees.
He lowers over me, the heat of his skin brushing mine, and I feel the pulse of need in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. His hand wraps around himself, guiding the thick length of hiscock to my entrance, and I feel the tip press into my already pulsing core.
He pushes in, slow and deliberate, and I swear the world shifts beneath me. My body stretches to fit him, my back arches, and something inside me splinters wide open. My hands wrap around his shoulders, clinging like I’m drowning and he’s the only thing that can hold me afloat. He starts to move, rolling his hips slow and deep. God, I feel it everywhere.
His rhythm shifts, his hips snapping harder, and faster. My hands claw at the sheets, my breath coming in ragged pants. I’m so damn close I could scream, but I don’t. Not yet. I hold it, feeling the pleasure building, fast and overwhelming, and I know he feels it too. His jaw is clenched, his breath sharp against my cheek and then I shatter.
The pleasure explodes inside me, a hot, electric pulse that tears through every nerve ending. My back arches, my thighs trembling as a broken cry rips from my throat. His name is the only thing I can form, gasped and raw, as wave after wave crashes through me.
It’s always like this with us. He drives me straight off the edge and holds me there, completely undone. I can’t think, I can’t breathe. All I feel is him. Aero. My chaos. My calm. My punishment. My reward.
His hand slides down my leg and curls under my thigh, lifting it and hooking it around his waist, and suddenly he’s deeper. God, so much deeper, and I cry out against his mouth. He swallows my scream with tongue, teeth, and breath. His hips thunder into me with raw, unfiltered need.
It’s brutal. Deep. Each thrust a promise and a punishment. And I take it. All of it.
My nails dig into his skin, trailing down his back as my legs tighten around him, holding him closer, tighter, deeper. I can’t get enough. My breath comes in broken pants, each exhale amoan, each inhale a gasp for more. His mouth crashes into mine again hard, claiming, filled with everything we’ve never said. It’s not slow or sweet. It’s desperate. Fierce. The kind of kiss that stakes a claim and dares anyone to challenge it.
His body grinds into mine, and I feel every hard, tense inch of him. My head spins, his hands grip my hips hard enough to leave bruises. But I don’t care. I want the bruises. I want the marks. I want to look at myself tomorrow and remember every second of this. Every second he allows himself to feel what’s real between us.
I’m unraveling again. My body is tight, and trembling. My legs lock tighter around him as he moves inside me, deep and unrelenting, like he’s trying to bury himself in a place no one else has ever touched. Each thrust sends sparks through my veins setting off a chain reaction I can’t stop, even if I wanted to.
His hand fists the sheet beside my head, the other gripping my hip like he’s anchoring himself. The pressure that’s been building coils tight and then shatters. My whole body arches into him, waves crashing through me with no end, only more. It’s all heat and lightning and surrender. And still, he doesn’t stop.
He rides the storm with me, holding me through every tremble, every gasp, until I collapse beneath him shaken, completely undone, and utterly his.
“Mine,” his breath is hot against my ear.
“Yours,” I whisper, and it’s the truth. The kind that terrifies me, because I’m not sure I’ll survive it if he lets me go again.
He collapses over me with a final, shuddering groan, his chest pressed to mine, our bodies slick with sweat and the weight of everything that’s gone unsaid for too long. For a minute, neither of us move. We just breathe. Hearts hammering in sync.
His fingers are tangled in my hair like he can’t quite let go. His chest rises and falls with uneven force, sweat clinging to the sharp cut of his collarbone. I keep my arms wrapped tightaround his shoulders, like I’m anchoring us both. My legs are still trembling, sated and sore, but my mind is nowhere near settled.
