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Authors: Lucian Bane

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BOOK: Ruin: Revelations
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“You said it. I’m just trying to understand.”

“The only thing you need to understand mister, is there is no touching
this
body without
love,
comprehenday?”

“Um.”

“Do you understand!”

“I do but—”

“But nothing, there are no buts here.”

“I just don’t agree.”

She threw herself against the seat and stared out the window. “You have
no
choice.”

There had to be a better way to go about this with her. “Okay, okay. Got it. No more touching you without
love
.”

She regarded him. “What kind of shenanigans are you trying to pull now? Don’t try to tell me you’re in love with me.”

Even though Ruin could hear it in her voice—the desperate need for him to say he was—he could not. He didn’t understand her convoluted concept of love enough to know if he was or not. He didn’t understand the world’s concept and definition of love, the closest thing he came to understanding love, was with her jealous God who wanted his creation only to love Him. Ruin was vaguely connected to that concept in some way with Isadore. But he needed time to discern too many things and variances. “No, I’m not trying to say I’m in love with you. I’m saying I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

Silence ensued for a span of five seconds. “Well
thank. You.
” She jerked her whole body toward the door and proceeded to stare silently out of the window. It took all of Ruin’s power not to add that he wouldn’t touch her anymore
until.
Until she was well aware that her concept of
love
was not needed or necessary for him to give her pleasure. The only person hurting or suffering when he touched her was him. And when he didn’t touch her . . . they both suffered. But it was her suffering he couldn’t live with. And he wouldn’t repeat that he
had
to meet her needs, it was falling on deaf ears. He’d just have to meet them some other way. She wanted to know he loved her, whatever that was to her and he wouldn’t lie to her. But he was getting very good at telling the truth in clever ways.

Chapter Five

 

Isadore watched the twilight landscape silently pass them by. Only she saw none of it, she saw various shades of fury.

“We need to sleep and we don’t seem to be close enough to our destination yet,” Ruin announced.

“Look for a hotel,” she muttered. “Well get
two
rooms.”

“Okay.”

He was being all nice and sweet. Of course he was. He didn’t like the no touching rule. Too bad. He’d have to
deal.
“Next exit says it has facilities. Take the next exit. It’s the one—”

“I read the sign. I got it. One point six miles.”

“Well excuse me for trying to help. I don’t say a word for twenty miles and the second I do, you’re jumping down my throat.”

“We’re getting a slang dictionary on this exit. I’m weary of not getting two-thirds of what you say.”

She snorted. “You’d need an Isadore slang dictionary, bunny cheeks.”

“Bunny cheeks,” he muttered. “Got it.”

“No you don’t,” she muttered back. “Go to that hotel,” she pointed while eyeing the cheaper one. “That one costs less, but price is quality when it comes to hotels and I’m not sleeping in disgusting crusty human filth covered with sprays and sexual perversions camouflaged in dark colors.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Damn right it did. “And we’re getting
two
rooms.”

“Yes, you said that.”

“Just reminding you in case you forgot.”

“Not at all. I like solitude.”

She burned with anger. He liked solitude? She hated that he didn’t lie and that she didn’t know what he meant by that. He meant
something
she could tell. Something weird. “Maybe you can watch TV and learn a few things.” Like what love was. She remembered what else you could learn on the TV. “Second thought, you better not watch it, I don’t need you learning the
wrong
things. You seem to know plenty about that as it is.”

“My judgment tells me what’s right and wrong.”

She couldn’t hold back her snort. “Sure. Do what you want. Park there.” She aimed her finger to the entrance.

Ruin got her there in a second and she hated that he was so good at driving he managed not to jolt her when coming to an abrupt stop. Mr. perfectly imperfect perfectionist.

“I’ll be right back, just wait here.” She got out the truck and slammed the door, hoping it broke his eardrums. She’d not been able to shake her anger ever since he’d
done that
to her.
Again!
That was the, what,
fifth time
since they’d met that he didn’t
share
the experience with her! Or near that amount.

Well
never
again. That was for
damn
sure. He thought she needed him, but ooh was he
wrong.
She’d show him. She’d
show
him. And there were
plenty
of men that
would
love her the way she required. Maybe she’d prove that to him, too. Maybe Mr. Ruuuuin needed to see that in action to help him
learn
it? Even if she didn’t find anybody to do that with her, there were plenty of people in love around them that she could
show
him what that looked like, what it
meant.
Not that she needed him to learn, who cared if he learned or didn’t learn? That wasn’t part of his
need
to know. She’d show him because obstinate idiots needed to be
shown.

“Room 243 and 245, go around the building and to the back,” she pointed, shutting the truck door.

Ruin put the truck in gear and put-putted forward. She wouldn’t speak to him unless necessary. Why was he driving so slow? To annoy her she was sure. Well, he’d never get the satisfaction of knowing that.

“There it is,” she pointed.

He pulled into the spot at the pace of a snail and she got out of the truck before he could finish with his eternal stop. She hurried to the room and slid the card in one door and opened it, then did the same to the other. “That’s yours,” she pointed. “Get your bags, I’ll get mine.”

“I’ll get yours.”

“You’ll do no such thing, I’m not an invalid, and you’re not my husband.”

“Fine,” he said.

She took a lot of satisfaction in hearing the tinge of anger in his tone. She needed to get that tinge to a roar then she’d be happy. After humiliating her, he needed it. Needed to be put in his place and
she would
do it.

Once they were each in their room, she sat on the bed, wondering what he was doing. She picked up the phone and dialed his number. Probably doesn’t know how to—“

“Yes?”

Yes? What kind of answer was that? “Are you hungry? I was going to order food and I’m not ordering twice.”

“Sure.”

She waited for more and when he didn’t speak, she said, “Fine. I’ll let you know when it gets here.”

“Good.”

She could hear a sound in the background. “You figured out how to work the TV I see.” Probably would watch porn the second he found some.

“I did.”

So he wasn’t going to volunteer info. Well, she wasn’t going to dig. “Good for you. And I saw a pool. I might go for a midnight swim.”

“Odd. But okay.”

“It’s not odd and yes, it’s okay, I don’t need your permission.”

“So why are you telling me?”

Fury rode her spine. “Common. Courtesy.”

“Ah. Okay. Thank you, then.”

Her lip quirked and she hung up, feeling more pissed. She ordered three pizzas, loaded, and a two-liter of pop, in keeping with her un-healthy splurge. Fifteen minutes and a knock sounded on her door. Wow, that was fast. She opened it and lost her breath at finding Ruin there. In only black tight underwear. Dear. Sweet. Jaysus.

“I thought about what you said about a swim.” He slid a hand along the back of his neck. “Decided it was a great idea and was heading to the pool.” She finally tore her eyes from his impossibly sexy torso with the half-flickering tattoo she’d wanted to examine earlier and met his gaze, not at all happy with the little sly grin there.

“Why are you telling me, I’m not your mother.”

“Right, I know that.” He ran his hand through his thick hair now. “Common courtesy,” he muttered before that intense gaze hit her square on. How the hell could a gaze steal a person’s breath and stab them in their bloody clit? Bastard. He was doing this on purpose. And by the look on his face, he knew what she was feeling and he
loved
it.

She held the door and angled her head with a sweet smile. “Well thank you.” I’ll see your sexy fine ass and raise you my own in a bikini. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I would like that.” The amount of sex appeal in his tone, in his one sided grin, in the slow sweep of his tongue. Yeah. Ri. Dic. U. Lous.

“Of course you would.” She shut the door in his face and raced to her suitcase. “
I would like that
,” she mocked in a whiney voice that sounded nothing like his deep one.

She got on her white bikini. She’d brought it along to have a little fun, a little vacation. This may have been an assignment of a medical nature, but who said she couldn’t have fun? Nobody said. She decided that. Wrapping in a towel, she headed to the pool with a box of pizza. Her pizza. He would need to get his own box, she wasn’t bringing it. Did he think she was his servant? Bad enough she was paying for everything. Yes, it was inheritance money, but still. Bum. He’d need to start earning money. She wasn’t going to foot the bill for everything.

Isadore was surprised and anxious to find there were people at the pool. A rowdy sounding crowd. Great. Hopefully not teenagers.

She tried not to look for Ruin but decided she’d want to sit next to him. For effect. She spotted his flickering tattoo and realized he was sprawled out like a lazy python on a lounge chair, moon tanning. With the lights around the pool, it was just the right amount to see more than he should be showing in public. Show off.

Ten seconds and Isadore realized what the pool party consisted of. A bunch of teeny boppers in scraps of material that made her white bikini look like a 1930s swimsuit. And of course, they’d all be giggling and showing off for
him
. Mr. Tattoo sex god.

Isadore put the pizza down on the table and ignored the squealing laughter near Ruin and went to the water. She glanced around and spotted a few guys in the nasty little mix. The second a young buck caught her eye with a wide grin she knew she was in over her head. And there was no backing out now. She promptly dove into the pool and swam to the deep side, planning to swim a few laps. Keeping one eye on the pool party near Ruin, she began carrying out her swimming charade.

She was all but invisible, until she wasn’t. “Hey there.”

“Oh!” Isadore spun in the water to face a dark head poking from the surface.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smell of alcohol, smoke, and bleach water hit her nostrils. She looked around in a sudden panic and grabbed hold of the pool ledge. She found Ruin’s green gaze riveted to hers, his face hard and unreadable. This is what she’d come for. So why was her heart trying to beat out of her chest?

“You’re here alone?” He swam up close to her, not seeming to know the meaning of personal space, his eager breaths and grin clearly unfamiliar with rejection.

“Uh, no, I’m here with . . . ” she pointed inconspicuously toward Ruin. “Him.”

The guy turned. “Yeah, he seems to be having a lot of fun.” His tone was dry then he looked at Isadore, smiling. “You look fucking hot in that bathing suit. That dude is stupid to leave you alone.”

Yeah. He was, wasn’t he? She managed to steal a glance at that
dude
and was alarmed to find him standing at the edge, watching them like he was about to take a dive for them. She fought the surge of fear flooding her stomach, unsure what disturbed her more, the guy two inches away or the man ten yards away.

“I love your tats,” a girl gasped.

Isadore looked as a girl with enormous breasts covered with a strip of material over the nipples, ran her hands on his body. Disgust and rage stiffened Isadore’s spine.

“Looks like he’s going to be busy,” the guy said. “Name’s John, by the way. What’s yours?”

Isadore fought to think about something besides what her eyeballs saw. But the look on Ruin’s face spelled trouble. More like danger. “You’d . . . better go.”

Chapter Six

 

Ruin trembled from the fire inside him but there was no use. One of the girls’ squealed in alarm, “God you’re hot.” They all backed away from him. If only he could tell them to get farther back. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, he only knew that it was
going
to happen.

He paced along the pool, his eyes locked hard on the man that crowded Isadore. The fire spun out of control inside of him. Problem was, he didn’t care. He hoped it got to the point of uncontrollable. Then he realized she was scared. But not of the man, of him. Scared of what he’d do. He was sure she didn’t need to be scared. The guy needed to be scared. Because from across the distance, Ruin smelled it. Not fear. But the human’s arousal for what was
his
.

Isadore was his.

For the first time, Ruin tasted something new inside himself. Something bitter, hot, and scorching him deep inside, in a place he wasn’t familiar with and didn’t understand. It was beyond instinct, beyond right and wrong, it was . . .
vengeance.

Power slammed Ruin and he grabbed hold of the shards of ice with all his might, watching from another place inside him as his hands slammed together and his fingers locked. Devour and Consume. That was the power’s name and Ruin roared as he commanded, no, begged the ice to rule it. His hands became a hammer and he swung them down. A bolt of fire shot from Heaven and instantly consumed all the water in the pool.

Ruin gasped at the two ice forms on the bottom of the pool. At realizing what it was, his breath rushed out in relief and the ice dissolved in mists of vapor. Ruin stood frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak even as the male whimpered and climbed out of the pool before running off. Even as Isadore slowly made her way cautiously toward him.

It wasn’t until she touched him that he was released from whatever held him. “Ruin?”

He was aware that he was close to hyperventilating, his human body struggling with the aftermath of what he’d just done. He dropped to his knees, feeling dizzy. He needed . . . he needed to lie down.

“I got you,” Isadore whispered. “I got you.” Her final words echoed in a spiral of softness through him. He reached for her even as the darkness tugged him back. Back. Way back.

****

Ruin became aware of the smell of Isadore. She was near but not near enough. He opened his eyes and found her . . . not there. He looked around trying to get his bearing. Flashes of fire against a dark sky hit his body and mind with the memory of what had happened. Damn. That was . . . bad.

The bathroom door opened and he shut his eyes. He wasn’t ready to see her face. He realized there were emotions in him he didn’t understand nor could he identify. He knew he didn’t like them. They made him feel weak more so than those emotions he understood did.

The smell of her got stronger, and he longed to feel her until his muscles tensed in desperate anticipation and hope that she might touch him.

The bed sank ever so little just next to him and he remained still, trying to appear in deep sleep as he waited to see what she would do. She let out a long sigh and barely whispered, “Please be okay.”

He wondered then how long he’d been sleeping. He was well rested and it was difficult not to open his eyes, but he waited to see what she might do. The hope that she’d touch him was answered, the barest touch of her finger on one of his tattoos. He fought to remain still and undisturbed as the tip traced silkily over his skin. Judging by the motion, she was tracing several. Until her touch changed to . . . feeling. Immediately, everything and his body came alive as she explored not just the feel of his skin, but the muscles beneath.

The torment was perfectly excruciating. Ruin nearly lost his control when he felt her lips on him, the barest touch. If there was a God . . . let her continue. Let her continue.

“Why are you so perfect?” she barely whispered.

Her arousal hit him and a painful groan forced its way out of him in a gush of power. He turned his head away, seconds from breaking the invisible binds that his body down. Even though she responded with silence and utter stillness, every sense he possessed vibrated with knowing. Knowing how badly she needed to touch him. Taste him. Knowing without looking that her pretty eyes were locked on his throbbing cock. The thought caused his hips to roll with a hard wave of heat.

He could easily be dreaming about her, easily not be aware of what he was doing. He could easily lower his hand in subconscious need. The idea needed no more thought, already his hand drifted slowly over his torso until he reached the throbbing ache at his midsection. Asleep, he wouldn’t be aware of eyes burning on him, watching, ears listening attentively, hands aching to touch, lips wet and parted with the need to taste. Asleep, he would just feel and be what he was. Raging with desire.

Ruin gave himself to the power, letting go of the sounds needing loosed, his ragged breaths filled with feral grunts of hunger as he stroked his fingers over the hard length in his underwear.

The sudden rush of Isadore’s shaky breath confirmed that his plan of subconscious oblivion was working. He pulled his knees up and back, and cupped himself. He encountered Isadore’s body with one knee and nearly lost control. He opened his other leg wide and thrust his cock hard into his hand. Did she like to see him the same way? Judging by the erratic sound of her breathing, yes. She liked it very much.

The thought of her arousal pumped heat into his cock and Ruin again let it take him with a hard roll of his hips. He tipped his head back when the heat came again, moving through his body like a slow constriction.

Ruin wanted to lower his underwear. But something within himself fought the urge, something strong enough to prevent him. He needed to answer her need for pleasure, but he found himself astonished that she would crave to
give him
pleasure more than anything.

His breath rushed out as he felt her on the bed, kneeling between his legs. She placed her hands on his inner thighs and pressed his legs to the bed. “My turn,” she whispered, taking hold of his underwear and working them down until his cock was free. She quickly placed one hand on his stomach and dug her nails, while grabbing firm hold of his cock at the base. He looked down just as her mouth opened and she took him with a hunger, took him deep into her hot mouth, moaning in such a way that Ruin thought his heart would explode out of his chest. He couldn’t stop watching as she held him down, held his cock tightly as she devoured him with so much effort.

He slammed his hands down and clutched the bed covers, holding on. His underwear was low enough to prevent him from keeping his legs open and now she straddled him, leaving Ruin gripped in the power of heat, constant feral grunts accompanying every pump of his hips, faster, harder, keeping up with her devouring pace.

“Isadore!” He choked on her name as he jerked his head back and grabbed tight hold of her head. He bucked his hips, unable to stop this time. Unable to deny himself the pleasure, unable to say yes to agony and pain. He clenched his eyes tight with the bright white heat sparking everywhere in his brain, an explosion of power so raw and potent, he lost who he was, where he was, and why he was. All he knew was the sound of her voice as she greedily took his essence into her body, the stab of her nails echoing the reckless hunger she’d finally satisfied. That
he’d
finally satisfied. For her.

Almost instantly, the need to do it back slammed him and he sat up just as Isadore retreated off the bed out of his reach. He watched her with hunger, only she didn’t remove her clothes as he’d imagined she would, as he felt she wanted to, but hurried to the bathroom instead.

“What . . . ”

The door shut. “Sorry, I need to take a shower,” she called.

BOOK: Ruin: Revelations
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