Page 66 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cat

AFTER SMOKEHADGONE, I sat down on the couch, my legs too shaky to hold me up. My heart rate was going through the roof and the heat of Smoke’s hands lingered on my thighs. I could still feel the pressure of his cock against my throbbing clit and see the searing intensity in his dark eyes...

I took a breath, glancing at the little box on the table. The ring was perfect. Beautiful. I loved it. No one had ever got me anything so special and so completely me before. I wanted to put it on my finger and never take it off.

But I couldn’t.

The past two weeks with Smoke had been amazing. He’d always been such a huge part of my life that I’d expected nothing to change. Yet somehow everything had changed.

He helped with Annie, talked with me, laughed with me, supported me the same as he always did.

But when night fell he didn’t leave.

Instead he took me to bed. Made me scream into my pillow as he systematically explored and then destroyed every single one of my inhibitions—until there was no part of me that remained untouched by his mouth, his fingers, his cock. There was nothing I wouldn’t let him do. He overloaded me with pleasure until I forgot why I’d ever been afraid in the first place.

Then there were those moments out of bed, when he’d put his hand on my back or thread his fingers through mine. When we’d be watching TV and his arm would come around me and I’d rest my head on his chest. Little touches, small reassurances.

I loved those. I hadn’t realised how starved I’d been of them. Every time he touched me I wanted to arch into his hand and purr like the kitten he kept calling me.

Far from hurting our friendship, our physical relationship had only deepened it, made it richer. Made it into something really, really good.

And yet...

I stared at the ring box. I don’t know why what he’d said, what he wanted from me, scared me so much. I should trust him, and I did, but the thought of putting on that ring made our relationship feel permanent in a way that wearing his property patch didn’t.

Of course that was what he wanted, but the horror of my parents’ relationship and then falling for Justin and having him hurt me so badly had hardened something inside me. I wanted to protect myself at all costs—protect my heart from the pain when everything went wrong, because it always did.

I wanted to protect myself from falling in love again, making myself vulnerable to someone who could hurt me. And Smoke could hurt me. He had the power to rip me apart without even lifting a finger, and that made him far more terrifying than Justin in every way.

Did I really want to give him that kind of power? Especially when he already had so much?

You’re not exactly powerless yourself.

Well, that was true. I’d seen the disappointment in his eyes when I took the ring off and put it back in the box. He’d wanted me to say yes—that was obvious. And I couldn’t deny that a part of me was perversely glad that somehow I’d managed to cause him pain, because I felt like he held my heart in the palm of his hand while he kept his own safely locked away.

‘Loveisshit, Cat.’

He would think that. Love for him meant everything bad, same as it did for me. But was he right? Were those words I wanted to hear make everything better? Would they make me feel safe? I love you. I didn’t know. I did know that I didn’t want him to say them to me just because it was what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to say them to me because that was what he felt.

Did he actually love me? Or was I simply a possession to him? Was I simply his property, like his bike or his cut? He did all these things for me—but was that because he’d do the same for anyone he considered his, or was it because of who I was to him?

How can it be you? You’re not that special, remember?

The thought was hateful, so I pushed it away and got to my feet. I couldn’t think about this right now—not when I had to go and collect Annie from the sitter.

I was in the hallway, ready to leave, when a knock came on the door.

Too busy thinking about Smoke, and what I was going to say to him when he came back, I didn’t check the peephole, simply pulled the door open.

‘Hi, Cat,’ said Justin.

Everything inside me froze. My ex was standing there in his expensive suit, his slightly overlong brown hair expertly styled, looking handsome and successful, with his I’m-a-hell-of-a-nice-guy smile plastered on his face.

Taking advantage of my shock, he pushed his way inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. I took a couple of steps back before I could stop myself, my body instinctively remembering the shock and the pain of his blows and wanting to avoid them. Then I halted, furious with myself for backing away.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘I didn’t invite you in. Get the hell out!’

---