Page 79 of Unlocking Ruin

“Good girl,” he praises. “I want you to squirm just like that. Tell me how it feels when I take you slowly.” He slides slowly in and out, rubbing his lower stomach against my clit, with just the tip of him inside me as he waits. “Tell me.”

“Like I want more!” I exhale while lifting my hips, taking him inside me once more. Greedily. Hungrily. I’ve never wanted anything so badly. He makes me feel seen. Cherished. Loved.

A sharp hiss escapes him as pleasure surges through his core. “That was naughty.”

My nails dig into his hips as I grasp them. “Then, give me my punishment,” I taunt him.

He slams his lips on mine, and thrusts inside me; it’s so hard the bed moves.

“You like it like this?”

“Harder,” I taunt him. I drag my mouth closer, making sure my breath tickles the shell of his ear.

His blue eyes thunder as a wicked, crooked smirk splits across his face. “You’re going to ruin me.”

“Then you better enjoy the downfall.”

His hand grips me to the point of pleasurable pain.

I bite down just hard enough to leave a mark, just soft enough to make him catch his breath. Satisfaction surges in my chest at his surrender and the pink impression left behind.

“Look at that, who knew you’d be such a pretty boy when you shatter.”

He releases a low, dark chuckle. “Looks like I need to take you harder. You can still talk.”

He pounds into me with a brutal, relentless, and completely unyielding rhythm. My heart hammers against my ribs. Heat coils in my body, hotter and hotter. I’m dragged to the edge, begging him to push me over.

He reaches down, his fingers finding my clit and pressing hard. “Who’s breaking now?” he mocks. “I bet if I do this⁠—”

I shatter completely. The orgasm hits me in violent waves. My fingers dig into the flesh of his back, my nails tearing his skin, but it doesn’t slow down. He rides out my high, still thrusting into me, still seeking more of me.

“Yes, that’s it, Rylan, keep coming, break all over me.” He breathes against my jaw; his grip is still tight.

I obey, sputtering out incoherent things.

“Oh my god,” I pant, as I try to catch my breath. He keeps pumping into me, more slowly as he watches me.

“I thought we agreed you’d call my name.”

“What if I consider your cock so good it’s god-worthy? Consider me a convert.”

A smirk plays on his lips. “Does that mean you’re gonna be on your knees worshipping me?”

“Knees. Back. You tell me. What does worship at your altar look like, Steffen?”

His mouth parts, eyes blinking as if he’s engraving this moment into his mind.

“I want you to do that again. Feel how good you fit around me, Rylan.” He slides his hands under my back, and keeping hold of me, he sits us up. “Just like this,” he says. “Ride me.” He lifts my hips and shows me how he likes it.

From this angle, he drives in deeper—so deep it takes my breath away. Clinging to his shoulders, I set the pace. The realization hits me: he chose this position because it gives me all the control. I am on top.

My hips rise and fall as I ride him. I slide my hands up and around his throat, and squeeze it just a little too tight. His pulse beats wildly under my palm.

His eyes snap to mine. The whites of his eyes flush red from the lack of air.

Silence closes in, broken only by the harsh rasp of our breath and the heavy rhythm of slick bodies colliding. I tighten my grip on his neck, watching his veins bulge beneath his skin. The raw high of controlling his air, paired with the way he fills me, sends me spiraling. I begin panting, more out of breath than he is.

He tilts his head back, trapped in my hold, yielding to me as he comes with a roar. His hands bruise my hips, holding me tight against him as my own orgasm shatters through me. Only when the last waves of my orgasm subside do I soften my grip, resting my palms against his shoulder.