Page 66 of Ruined
I put my hand on the metal. Anything to think about something else. “I need to get my mind off of it,” I stammered, trying to explain my jumpiness. “I learned some tricks.”
I was anxious to do anything. To channel the nervous energy into dance. I started walking around the pole, the same high, pointed toe steps as I was used to, but this time, when I lifted my legs, I swung around the pole in a straddle, then stepped onto the ground again with ease.
“You learned tricks for me?” he asked.
“For me too,” I said, lifting my brows. I walked around it again, then picked up the pace and lifted my legs, bending one and keeping the other straight. I started rambling on, the damn adrenaline in my veins: “You showed me that it was okay. That I could do this and it would be—” He removed a set of metal cuffs from a bin underneath the couch. I swallowed. The adrenaline spiked again, though this time, I welcomed it. “That it would be—”
He lunged towards me, grabbing my wrists and pinning them behind my back, so that the pole rubbed between my shoulder blades. I whimpered and he locked the restraints into place, then stood back. His gaze washed over me, admired me, and I loved it. Feeling myself on display. For him. Then he pushed up my bra so that my breasts spilled out, and yanked off my underwear, leaving me bare. I squirmed. Exposed. Helpless.
He fondled my breasts, and I instantly reacted to his touch, quaking at the dominant feel of his hands. Claiming me with every touch. He dug his fingernails into my back. I moaned, and his cock was hard against me.
“Finally,” he said. He pulled out his cock and rubbed the head against my clit. “I’m going to fuck you against the pole, Haley, and the only word you’ll say is my name.”
“Lucas,” I whimpered. I wanted him so much. “Please.”
He slapped my face and grabbed my chin. His hazel eyes bore into me.
“Lucas,” I corrected.
He let go of my chin and began slapping every inch of my exposed body. Each strike more sensitive than the last. My belly, my inner thighs, my breasts, down to my dripping wet sex. When his hand struck my clit, I cried out, and he smirked. I was still recovering from the night before. Each movement was amplified.
“Lucas,” I said.
His cock was hard and heavy, and he brought it to my wet sex. “Beg me to fuck you,” he said. “Here. In this room.”
“Lucas,” I gasped. “Please fuck me.”
“Where?”
“Right here,” I whispered. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you.”
With those words, he plunged inside of me, making me moan, his cock hitting my cervix in a way that was painful, but made me long for more. I wanted to feel that pain, again and again, with his body rubbing against my clit. He thrusted into me, knocking my body into the pole. Then he lifted my legs, making it so that I had to hook onto him for balance, and hold him close, my hands still bound behind the pole.
He was using me like a toy. Fucking me exactly how he wanted. Taking what was his. And it wasn’t until the sweat dripped down our faces that I realized that I hadn’t even pretended to protest. When I first met Lucas, I had gone from being a server who refused to entertain the idea of sex in the Terrariums, to begging him to fuck me right here and now.
He had ruined me. Broken my resolve. Body and soul. But I didn’t care. Because this felt right. Every single part of it.
“Fuck,” he growled, and he thrust in again, his hips moving deeper with each penetration. He swallowed my mouth in a deep, aching kiss. Sucked my tongue, my lips, making it feel as if I might drown inside of him. I kissed him back, trusting him to hold onto me, feeling every inch of his hard cock, relishing in the way he made me take him again and again. Trusting him to hold everything I had.
