Page 97 of Boy of Ruin
Which is exactly what I fucking tell her as I come inside of her, emptying myself into her.
“If I fucking lost you…” My voice is hoarse, I can barely say it, but I need her to know. I press my brow to hers, the knife still at her throat as I groan her name, “fuck, Sid.” When I’m done, and I know she is, too, crying out my name, her arms wrapped around my back now, the two of us coated in blood as she keeps whispering my name, over and over, like a fucking prayer. Like I’m God.
“If I lost you,” I start again, my forehead still against hers, the knife still to her throat as she stares up at me with wide eyes, “I’d find you again. And I’d fucking kill you, baby, because I can’t…” I pull her bottom lip between my teeth, roll it out until I let go. “I can’t live without you. I could never live without you.”
She reaches between us, her hand over the handle, fingers around mine. But she doesn’t try to move the knife. She just stares at me, one hand still on my back.
“You don’t have to,” she whispers, her voice hoarse, but strong. “You don’t have to, J.”
We don’t sleep after that.
I wish I could know what she’s thinking. After the kitchen, the confession, the bleeding…she went to her bedroom. Came back down in a tank top and cotton shorts. I splashed water over my face, pulled on shorts, made a drink.
Now, she’s standing in the kitchen, drinking from the water bottle she threw at my head before the…sex.
I can’t stop the smile on my face as I think about it. Her underneath me. Submitting to me.
Fucking finally.
I feel euphoric, endorphins going haywire in my brain.
She looks over at me, still drinking, and I see water drip down her chin.
I smile wider, biting my tongue and flicking my gaze down her body. But even so, even in this perfect bubble of contentment, of knowing I laid claim to her in a way she can’t scrub off…I feel this strange sense of foreboding. Like when the sun comes, reality will crash back down with it.
I’ll be in that cage again and she’ll be far, far away.
Out of my reach.
I fight those feelings back. It’s always been next to impossible for me to enjoy happiness. But with her, I want to. I want to try everything good and new with her by my side.
The plastic crinkles beneath her fingers in the quiet of the house. I pull my phone from my pocket, drink still in one hand as I find some music to play. How to Love by Lil Wayne might not be the song I scream to everyone that I love, but…fuck, I do love it.
Sid huffs a small laugh as I toss my phone on the coffee table in front of me. Before I can say anything, she slowly closes the space between us, drawing up short when she’s a few feet from the cream-colored couch, her little toes flexing on the wooden floors of the cabin.
I take another drink, swallowing down the vodka and feeling it burn a trail toward my stomach.
Her hands come to her hips and she cocks her head.
“I like this place,” she admits, her words soft. Her voice has always been deeper than most girls, in a throaty sort of way. Husky. Sensual.
Fucking sexy, just like it was when she was moaning my name.
My throat feels tight as I stare at her petite frame, think of the way I want her against me again. Underneath me. All over me. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her.
I hope she meant what she said. That I don’t have to live without her. Not again.
“Yeah?” I ask her.
She runs her tongue over her teeth, glancing around the room. There’s not much to it. The couch I’m on, a chair across from me that could seat two, a light gray color that matches Sid’s eyes. Otherwise, it’s fairly empty.
Only the basics.
Except for the extras, of course, because “basic” in Jeremiah Rain means something different from most people.
There’s AC pumping through the vents right now, and I see Sid’s nipples pebbling beneath her tank.
The little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my fingers warping the cup in my hand. I hate plastic cups, but for the cabin, they seemed…standard. Besides, Sid requested them when Ria and Nicolas had gone to the store for us.
