by T Steele
I hear John moving, but I don’t look at him.
Finally, I feel his fingers gently grip my chin, turning it to look at him. “Seeing you like this makes me want to blow shit up or kill even more people. I would slice off my own skin, bit by bit, rather than see you in pain.” His gaze is penetrating, and his head cocks to the side as his thumb strokes my chin. “What do you need from me, Ruby? Tell me how I can make it better.”
I bring my hand up over his, leaning into his touch. Then, I cup his face, loving the way his stubble feels against my skin. I bring his face to mine, kissing him slowly.
“Use me,” he says gruffly against my mouth. “Fuck your pain away. Just like you did for me the other night.”
He unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me onto his lap. His erection has me grinding against him through our clothing. I don’t know if it’s healthy or not, but he’s right. Fucking the pain away helps, and my pain is so strong right now, I’ll do anything to be rid of it.
John moves his hand to the automatic button on the side of his seat and then he’s laying almost flat with me on top of him. He hikes my dress up, squeezing my ass. His pinky fingers stroke the dampness already coating my panties.
Then, I hear a ripping sound and I don’t mind that John ripped my underwear in half. I need him. Right now, he’s the only antidote for my pain.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he rasps. His voice is so intoxicating. Velvety and smooth, yet deep and rough.
He uses the slit in my dress to help him hike it up around my waist, then his hands grip the small of my back, encouraging me to move upward. I break off our kiss because the way he’s moving me up his body makes it impossible for our lips to stay connected.
“I never got to tell you, but you did fucking amazing tonight. I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous. Every move you made had me captivated. It made me work up an appetite,” he says in a low growl.
“Do you want to hit a drive-thru or something?” I tease.
“Nothing could satisfy me tonight except for the taste of you. You’re all I crave. I think about it all fucking day. Now, I’m starving.” His hands are still guiding me upward, closer and closer to his face, and I’m sure there will be a wet mark on his clothing, but the friction of the fabric and anticipation of what’s coming next diminishes my inhibitions to none. “Fuck my face, Ruby. Fuck it hard. Break my nose if you have to.”
A soft, breathy little sound escapes my lips. His words ignite a deep ache between my thighs, and I grab onto the “Oh shit bar”, AKA the grab handle on the ceiling, and place one of my feet on the back seat for balance.
Heat builds low in my belly as I gradually lower my sex directly onto his mouth. I cry out loudly at the contact, my head falling back. My legs quiver as I strain to hold myself up, trying not to hurt John beneath me. But he growls, and urges me on. His hand grazes down my leg and roughly pulls it up, bending it at the knee, and resting my foot on the center console. His tongue licks up the length of me slowly. Savoring me. Like I’m his favorite ice cream cone. His tongue doesn’t let up, lapping my sex from entrance to clit in firm, steady strokes.
“John!” I scream his name.
I’m panting and moaning. With the way he’s angled my legs; spread wide, with one knee bent, every inch of me is available to him and I know I’m not going to last long.
John’s hands now travel down my arms, his tongue strokes over my clit, flicking it firmly, and he moves my hands to his thighs so that I can prop myself up. I realize he’s putting me in a more comfortable position. In this new pose, with better leverage, my hips start rocking back and forth.
“That feels so good,” I moan
John’s fingers spread the lips of my sex wider, sucking my clit inside his mouth. The wet sucking noises speed up as he sucks and penetrates me, fucking me with his tongue.
He slips a finger inside me and then his entire face moves in quick circles. Devouring me. He slurps up my wetness with sounds of approval, and I’m writhing so frantically that when John adds the slightest bit more pressure to my clit with the pad of his tongue, I come apart. My orgasm is so strong that my arms give out and my head falls onto the dash. John stays with me, his hands still gripping my ass, his head still between my legs. My chest heaves with the force of the high pitched moans falling from my lips. When the thrust of my hips slows, John finally releases my clit from his mouth with a loud pop.
When I open my eyes, John’s are feral. Suddenly, he’s unzipping my dress. His hands tremble against my skin as if he’s barely holding onto his last string of self-control. Once unzipped, he yanks it down, springing my breasts free and sucks a nipple into his mouth like a starving man at a feast.
His mouth doesn’t leave my breast when I hear him unzip his pants. Then he’s lifting me with his strong arms. He slowly sets me down on top of him, and his cock fills me inch by inch. A deep guttural sound leaves the back of his throat.
His mouth leaves my breasts only to press against my lips, and I don’t even care that the salty taste of myself is still on him. I suck on his tongue as my hands pull at his hair. I clench so tightly around him and rock my hips back and forth vigorously. His hands firmly grip my hips and he suddenly starts lifting me up and down in a frenzied manner. My breasts bounce and I arch into his face, the friction of his stubble against my sensitive nipples causes me to scream out as my second orgasm ignites through me.
John roars out his release as his hands on my hips tighten, speeding up my bouncing rhythm on his lap.
I squeeze him, crushing him to me before collapsing on top of him. My nose nuzzles his neck and John lays back on the seat cradling me, the feel of his heartbeat against mine still thumps wildly.
His fingers run through my hair and we’re quiet for a while.
And then I break the silence. “John?”
“Hmm?” he grunts, still recovering.
“How long have the Russian’s been watching me?” I ask.
John sighs. “If I had to guess, even before your mom passed.”
I nod. I suspected as much.
“Do you think my dad loves me?” I ask.
“Yes,” John answers without hesitation.
I sigh in relief, because for some reason I still care and I know John will always tell me the truth even if it’s painful.
“He just recently made you take the oath of omerta, instead of making you take it that very first night you stayed with us. He’s allowing you a phone call to Daphnee, and he let you come to the casino tonight because he can't stand the thought of you being angry with him. For Malcolm, that is a sign of true love if there ever was one.”
“I’m still mad at him.”
“I know. And I don’t blame you.”
“I hate that you had to go through all the horrible shit you had to go through when you were younger.”
His hand stills in my hair before resuming its stroking. “What brought that up?”
“Ever since . . . the other night, I can’t stop thinking about it, but I’m glad I know. The way you felt tonight when you saw me in pain . . . that’s the way I feel about you when I know you’re hurting. When I think about all the stuff you’ve been through. God, I’m so sorry, John.”
“It’s okay,” he says, and I feel it's out of reflex because that’s what everyone automatically responds with. But it’s not okay.
“Was she a part of the family?” He knows the “she” I’m referring to is his mother.
“Ruby . . .” he trails off. It’s a warning. He’s a wild animal that’s not to be approached.
I sit back, and can’t help the small gasp that leaves my mouth when I feel his cock hardening inside me once more.
“John . . .” I lift myself up leisurely, his erection almost fully out of me before I sit back down so, so slowly.
John sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth.
“Are you going to fuck the words out of me?” he asks, his head falling back and I can’t help but lean down, sucking at the pulse point of hi
s throat.
“No,” I whisper against his skin. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to get it through your thick skull,” I say as I lift up once more before coming back down, keeping my slow and steady pace. “But I fucking have feelings for you. It’s not something I can control, it just is. That means I want to help you and comfort you. I want you to talk to me. To confide in me because you want to or need to because despite how much you hate feeling things, it’ll help.”
Again, my body moves up, then down. Up, then down.
“I can’t allow that,” John pants, the sight of his big, muscular chest something truly magnificent.
“What—,” I choke out, “—what do you mean?”
“I mean I can’t keep getting closer to you, Ruby. I’m already in so fucking deep.” I can’t help the breathy little laugh that escapes at those words considering he’s literally balls deep inside me at this exact moment.
John rolls his eyes, but lets out a deep chuckle as well, and soon we’re both laughing. I collapse onto his chest, still keeping my slow, sensual rhythm. It doesn’t take long for our laughs to turn into grunts and moans as John thrusts his pelvis up, hitting my G spot and adding friction to my clit.
My hips start their jerky movements again as the walls of my sex clench once more in ecstasy.
I cry out, but I don’t stop my movements. Only speed them up as fast as I can, my arms tightening around John’s neck, shoving his face into my breasts as I ride him like there’s no tomorrow and John reaches his second release.
We fall back into the seat once more.
Our heavy breathing is the only sound that can be heard. The smell of sex lingers in the air, and the moon is the only light, casting a soft glow over John, making him appear like a dark prince in the night.
“I’ve gotta take you home now. Your dad will send helicopters out looking for you if we’re not home soon.”
A ball of lead settles in my stomach. “I don’t want to go home. I can’t face him yet.”
“I’ll sneak you inside. I’ll make sure you won’t have to see him, but at least he’ll know you’re home and safe.”
“You really do care about him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” says John. He’s the only person I’ve ever really cared about . . .” he trails off. I want him to say the cheesy line of “until you”, but he doesn’t and I can’t help but feel disappointment twist inside my gut.
He must notice the expression on my face because John runs his thumb along my lower lip. “I do care about you, too, Ruby. But admitting I care for you makes me feel fear, and I haven’t been afraid in a long time.”
“I don’t want you to feel that way, either,” I whisper. “I just want you to be happy, John.”
“You make me happy,” he says bitterly, like it’s a bad thing.
“Would you rather be miserable?” I ask, confused.
“That feeling is dangerous for someone like me.”
“I’d actually say the opposite, but alright, I’ll ask anyway. Why is it dangerous for someone like you?”
“Because once I have it, I’ll do anything to keep it.”
Chapter Twelve
John’s words haunt me well into the night. “Because once I have it, I’ll do anything to keep it.”
Once we arrived back to the mansion, we took great pains sneaking to my bedroom without making any noise. Which is super easy for John.
Me, not so much—but we made it. I’m sure my father saw us coming in through the cameras, and I know John must have reported back to him and come up with a lie of where we were. I was grateful my father at least had some sort of common sense to leave me alone for now.
I’d showered and changed my clothes, and felt like I could breathe again now that I didn’t have so much makeup on. Wearing makeup was nice and all, but after the events of the night and the nervous sweat that caused mascara streaks, I was perfectly content with my plain, freckled face. The baggy t-shirt and comfy shorts I put on was an added bonus.
My thoughts turn back to John and his lost soul. That description fits him perfectly. Whenever John is around me, all my brain can think about is how hyper-aware I am of him. Of how beautiful he is. Of how he makes me feel. A strong, all encompassing feeling that makes the word love seem too small to describe the connection between us.
My heart thunders as I sense deep in my bones that I’ve fallen in love with John Russo. Fallen was an apt word to describe it, but it was almost as if I exploded in love instead. Because the pressure in my chest that tried to contain every little thing I felt for John was being worn down, ready to combust. And then all my scattered pieces would be absorbed into John and that’s the way I wanted it. I wanted him to absolutely own me. To know my loyalty, my fears, my desires. Most importantly, though, my love. If anyone in the world deserves wholly, unconditional love, it was John.
I decide to make a vow to myself then and there that I would show it to him. To show him I absolutely need him and that I want to make him happy. I want to show him that things were better when we were together. That he could trust me irrevocably because I would always have his back no matter what.
The sound of my door shutting alerts me of John’s return from reporting to my father.
I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist. His instantly snake around me as well, and I revel in his warm, hard body against mine. My head rests perfectly below his breast bone and I nuzzle my face against him.
“What did he say?” I whisper.
“Nothing. He’s upset, though, I can tell you that much.”
I nod, worrying my lip.
“You should get some rest,” he murmurs, the stubble on his chin scraping against the hair on top of my head.
“You wanna lay with me?”
When he doesn’t immediately answer, I place my hand in his. “Come on.”
I would laugh if John’s facial expression didn’t make me so sad. He looks so conflicted. The thought of a lost puppy comes to mind and it’s so absurd thinking anything about John is puppy-like.
I slide the black jacket he wears off his shoulders and gently prompt him to sit down on my bed. He’s still in his same clothes from earlier and I know he can’t be comfortable, but I also know he’d never say anything about it.
When he’s laying flat, I slide in beside him and throw my leg over his. My head rests on his chest and I stroke his torso gently.
His arms gradually tighten around me and I hear a soft sigh come from his lips.
“I know you won’t believe me, but you do deserve ‘gentle’.”
“Don’t start.”
My hand on his chest stills and flattens, and I place my chin on it to look up at him with a smile. “You do.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Ruby?”
I roll my eyes. “Apparently a lot of things. I’m not good enough for you. I—”
John gently shoves me away from him and swiftly sits up, his face in a severe scowl. “Don’t ever fucking say that again.”
“What?” I shrug. “I’m not. I’m not very tall—or smart, according to you. I don’t know why anyone would want me. I’m honestly not that great to look at, either.”
“Stop,” he demands, and I smile widely. And it’s almost comical watching his face scrunch up in confusion.
“It’s not fun hearing me talk badly about myself, is it?”
“I’m not playing these games with you, Ruby.” He goes to stand from the bed and I stop him with my hand on his arm.
“Don’t go,” I say almost desperately. “Please.”
His jaw works as he bows his head, second-guessing himself. Second-guessing me.
“I just wish you saw yourself the way I do,” I tell him.
His eyes probe mine, and I get the feeling that he doesn’t know how to respond or what to do. He knows what I’m saying is logical, but it’s like he can’t process how anyone could think highly of him in any way.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?”
he asks with no real heat in his tone.
“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I whisper.
He kneels before me, bringing his lips to mine. “You have to understand that we make no fucking sense. You get that, don’t you? If people saw us together, they’d think I forced you to be with me. They’d warn you to run away. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that you actually want me too.”
“Since when do you care what other people think? Fuck them! Besides, no one would think that. Do you not notice the stares other women give you?” I ask, barely able to keep the jealousy from my tone.
John’s lips meet mine once more, his tongue fucking my mouth, making my toes curl, even though it hasn’t been that long since he’d last made me cum.
When he pulls away, his eyes are fierce and possessive. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter than you being jealous.” He smiles fondly, shaking his head. “As if you’d have to worry about anything. Ruby—men would sell their fucking souls at the chance for just one night with you.”
He spreads my legs wide, his hands lightly tracing my inner thighs, back and forth. He lowers his head, skimming his nose along the path his hands have taken.
“I’ve never met a woman who felt like my salvation, Ruby. A man like me doesn’t deserve salvation. Or anything good really, but you feel that way for me. Fuck knows I’m not strong enough to fight that.”
“Oh, God, John. Everything you do feels so good.” My voice is low and uneven. “But you shouldn’t ahh—” I cry out when his fingers reach beneath my shirt, pinching my nipples.
His eyes survey my face and I lick my lips. “I’m not your salvation, John. I just care about you.” I want so badly to replace the words ‘care about you’ with ‘love you” but I don’t think John would want to hear that right now. It makes me want to throat punch every asshole that made him feel as if he’s unworthy of love. “When people care about each other, they want them to be happy, no matter what.”
“This makes me happy,” he says in a guttural voice, his fingers still lightly pinching my nipples.
“Me too,” I say, letting my head finally fall back, my mouth falling open with a low ‘mmm . . .’
