GLIMPSES. FRAGMENTS. Like an old, torn filmstrip. That was all my brain could hold.
Ruby’s mouth crashing to mine, hot and urgent, her growl against my lips—“I need you inside me. Fuck me, Sebastian. I need this.”
Ruby stripping my shirt off, then pushing herself back to peel hers. Her tongue tracing up my throat, teeth grazing, leaving a bruising kiss at my neck that promised I’d feel her there tomorrow.
Me, grabbing her, sweeping everything off the nearby dining table with my forearm, and hauling her onto it. Her panties were gone in seconds, my pants and boxers shoved down just as fast, and then I was thrusting into her—both of us panting, kissing, groaning.
Her voice when she pleaded, legs locked tight around my hips, fingernails digging into my skin, her other hand clutching my hair, her head tipped back as she gasped, “God, Sebastian, harder.” She wanted it rough, hard—like she wanted me to ruin her, or maybe to ruin me. I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t think.
It felt like a hate fuck.
My hand in hers as she tugged me to the bedroom for more. “I want you in my mouth,” she whispered against my ear, sliding down my body, her nails raking deliberately down my chest and abs.
The blaze in her eyes when I came hard again, my fingers clasping her hair, holding her down on her knees before I flipped her onto the bed.
Her taste on my tongue, the sharp gasps she made as I trailed lower, spreading her open and licking her until her thighs trembled. I paused, my mouth just skimming her, until she begged me to continue. “Not until you say my name again,” I ordered, needing to hear it, and she complied, moaning it.
Bite marks on my shoulder, scratches down my back, the crescents of her nails on my skin.
Ruby liked it wild sometimes, but this felt different—raw, almost desperate. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’d been trying to leave her mark, carve herself into my skin, claim me.
Hours blurred—Ruby riding me, her hand on the headboard for balance, my hands on her breasts; me on my knees behind her, her voice breaking on a desperate, “Please,” urging me to pummel harder.
And when she finally collapsed on my chest, sweaty and wild and spent, I knew—this was Ruby, trying to get something out of her system.
Probably me.
I didn’t know why. It didn’t matter.
I fell asleep with her hair fanned across my chest, not knowing she’d be gone by morning.
31
Ruby
I SLIPPED OUT BEFOREmorning, careful not to wake him.
The room still smelled like us—heat and sweat and the sharp bite of sex.
The night had been feral, like I’d needed to brand myself on him.
I went in wanting to prove I could just fuck him. Like it meant nothing. Get all the goddamn confusion out of my system. But my heart kept scoffing at that. And then another part of me sneered at my effort and took over.
The part that remembered what it felt like being invisible—it had panicked at the thought of someone else making him smile like that. Of someone else being close to him.
It wasn’t rational.
It was the definition of fucked up.
And it wasn’t fair to him.
But knowing he could look at someone else that way stung in a way I hadn’t expected.
So I’d clawed to prove, in the only way I knew how, that he still wanted me.
That I wasn’t forgettable. That I wasn’t replaceable.
Now, in the gray light of morning, all I felt was raw and exposed. Because I’d just handed pieces of myself I’d sworn I’d never give. The deepest, fearfulest parts of my soul, of my heart. And I knew—I would never get him out of my system, never unwant him, never unfeel again—and that meant being susceptible to hurt.
