Page 223 of Boy of Ruin
“You think, because of what happened to you, what they did to you, that I’m not gonna be yours for the rest of our fucking lives?” He yanks me forward, swings his legs over the bed, his feet hitting the floor as he pulls me into his arms, cradling me just like Jeremiah did.
The last time I saw him.
“Because make no mistake, baby girl, when my time is up…so is yours.” His hand comes to my throat, one around my back as he holds me close, my legs dangling over his lap. His fingers close around me, and he kisses me, long and hard, his teeth dragging out my lower lip. “And until that day comes, you’re fucking stuck with me, baby girl.”
I kiss him back, sitting up straighter, my arms wrapped around his neck as he steals my breath with his mouth, his fingers on my throat.
And when his other hand comes between my thighs, slipping underneath the edges of my shorts, I know that we’re both insane.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“No matter what you’ve done, no matter what you do, I’ve been wrapped around your fucking finger since I saw you at that intersection,” he says against my mouth, his fingers pushing into my pussy as I gasp, my lips brushing his. “The only thing I could fucking think about was, when do I get to knock this crazy bitch up?” The pad of his thumb circles my clit while I clench around his fingers.
His tongue dives into my mouth, but then he pushes me back on the bed, pulling his fingers out of me like he just can’t fucking stand that being the only thing inside of me.
He yanks down his boxers while I pull off my underwear.
I go for my shirt, but he grabs my wrist, then pushes me down against the pillows.
“No,” he says, a bite in that word. “If you don’t want me to carve that out of you, baby girl, keep your shirt on.” But he lets go of my wrist, takes the strap of my tank top in his hands and pulls, ripping the fabric on one side, then the other, shoving it down so my swollen tits are exposed, his hands gliding over them, twisting and pulling my nipples.
I gasp, my back arching as he strokes his cock, positions it against my entrance.
“You should’ve never let another man touch you like that. You should’ve never fucking let him put his hands on you at all, baby girl,” he whispers, his hand finding my throat again as he shoves into me, not giving me time to adjust.
He props himself up on his elbow, his free hand splaying along my stomach between us as he fucks me so hard my head hits the headboard. “This is my baby. Me and you, Lilith. This is us.”
He buries himself inside of me, his hand still on my throat, the other going to the headboard as he leans down, bites my neck so hard I cry out, my hands going to his throat too, trying to push him off of me.
He doesn’t stop.
I know I’m bleeding.
I know he can taste me in his mouth, and I know that’s exactly what he wants.
He pulls back, pulls out of me as he does and I gasp with the loss of him, craning my neck up as he glides his tongue down my body, sucking on my nipples, biting too.
Then his head is between my legs, his hands on my ankles as I bend my knees, planting my feet on the bed.
“Always so fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, his words against my pussy.
I run my fingers through his hair.
“You’re mine, baby girl. Fucking mine.” He licks me, teasing, pulling my clit into his mouth as I gasp, his eyes on me. “If you ever let another man touch you like he did, like my fucking brothers did…if you ever let someone that close to you again…” He turns his head, bites the inside of my thigh, my fingers knotting in his hair as I gasp, see blood on his lip when he pulls away.
“I’ll fucking kill them, until all you’ve got left is me.” Then he dives down, pushing his tongue inside of me, gripping my thighs hard enough to leave a bruise as I gasp, calling his name.
He pulls back, and I try to push his head back down but he just laughs, resisting me. Then, staring right at my pussy, he spits on me, warm saliva dripping down my slit, before his gaze meets mine again. “You’re my fucking wife, Lilith. Mine, and goddamn, I’m yours. Don’t forget it again, yeah, baby girl?” He pushes two fingers into me as he waits for me to answer him.
I clench around him, then nod. “Yes,” I gasp out, “I’m yours, Lucifer.”
He smiles at me before he dips his head back down and starts torturing me all over again until I’m moaning his name. Then he crawls up me, pushing into my throbbing pussy, groaning my name as he fucks me. Lilith, like a chant, his hand around my throat like that’ll keep me here. Keep us together.
I think this time…it just might.
“Did you mean it?” he asks me that night. I’m in his lap, his hands on my hips, the blankets pulled up to our chin as we sit on the couch in the living room, empty cereal bowls on the coffee table, a horror movie neither of us are watching playing.
We’re healing, going through motions to living, but our hearts, our minds…they’re probably elsewhere.
