Ruin: Slay Two

by Laurelin Paige

  I trailed off, trying to remember the details, the slapping of his belt against the cement floor, the smell of his breath, the strain in my thighs as I tried to keep them open with my pants still wrapped around my ankles. “My brain shut down. I think it went on for a while, but I don’t remember much after that. Just, eventually, he was done and tying off the condom. Then he was helping me to my feet and making sure my hair wasn’t a mess before sending me out to meet my father. It happened a couple of other times, exactly the same way. I’d thought it would get better, and it didn’t so after the third time, I found excuses not to go to the club anymore and that was that.”

  Edward’s features had relaxed, but his expression was still grim. “He didn’t force you?”

  “No.” Though, there had been a part of me that had felt like I hadn’t had a choice. Not that I could explain that, because I certainly did have a choice. He hadn’t bullied me. There had been plenty of chances to walk away.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked, voicing the question I hadn’t been able to ask myself.

  I shrugged.

  “Not good enough, little bird.”

  I puffed on my cigar a few times, thinking. “I wanted to get it over with. I know I said that already, and it’s true. All my friends had boyfriends. Everyone was fucking. Everyone wanted to be fucking. I don’t know that I was especially eager to, but it felt like my virginity was more of a liability than an advantage, if that makes sense. When a guy found out I hadn’t done it yet, that’s all they cared about. I was tired of always having to protect that virtue. Also, when the right guy came along—because yes, I still believed in that whole right guy thing back then—I didn’t want to be inexperienced.

  “But if you’re asking why John...that’s harder to answer. He was always around, saying things. Dirty things. About how pretty my cum would look on his dick and how much better I’d feel with him between my thighs than a horse. Maybe if that had been the first time I’d heard a man say those kinds of things to me, I would have run off and told someone. Made a complaint. But it wasn’t even the third time I’d heard them. Not even the thirtieth. I’d been told for years by so many men in so many ways that my value was in getting men off. And since I’d never been fucked, I guess it felt like I wasn’t even living up to that.”

  My mouth felt dry after all that. I picked up the champagne and finished it off in one swallow, then returned the glass to the ground and stared out at the ocean, the light of the moon reflecting on the ripples. “So it was fine. It wasn’t awesome, but it wasn’t the worst. Do I wish it had been different? Yes. I was a sort of romantic girl. I wanted the dream scenario. The boy who loved me, a boy I trusted. There’d be rose petals laid out and candles burning and soft piano music playing, and I’d be so turned on that I’d be wet before his dick got anywhere near me, especially because he’d give me three orgasms before his pants ever came down. But things rarely happen like the dream, and I didn’t see any way the dream was going to happen for me, especially when…” When Hudson hadn’t looked at me twice in any way that wasn’t sisterly.

  I let the thought fade off in the wind.

  Edward didn’t let it go, however. “Especially when the boy from the other story wasn’t showing any interest.”

  “Yeah. So what was the point in holding out this false hope? It was better just to kill the dream before it got out of hand.” I cringed, visibly. “That sounds way more dramatic than it was. Teenage girls have crushes. Unrequited love isn’t unique; it’s a fact of life.”

  “It doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to live it.”

  I sighed. “I suppose.”

  Abruptly, Edward got up and sat down on my lounge chair, straddling it as he faced me. I pulled my knees up to my chest to make room for him, but he pulled my legs out one at a time to rest on his thighs.

  “I’m going to need a day or two to respond,” he said, taking my cigar and putting it out on the sand next to where he’d disposed of his. “But I’m very happy with you.”

  “You are? I didn’t do anything special.”

  “Exactly.” He ran his hands up my bare legs, letting his fingers drift under the edges of my dress. “You didn’t put on a performance. You were honest. You were vulnerable.”

  There was pride in his voice, and I felt my chest and cheeks get warm with the praise. Or maybe it was the way he was touching me. That was heating me up awfully quickly too.

  “What would you like?”

  “A present?” I tried to lessen my smile, make it more seductive and less sloppy grin. “Can I fuck you?”

  “Try again.” His hands were now massaging my thighs, speaking a very different language than his mouth.

  “Will you fuck me?”

  He shook his head, but he smiled at my attempt.

  “Can I blow you?” Another head shake. “Watch you jerk off?”

  “My cock is staying where it is.”

  A glance down at his crotch said that was going to be awfully uncomfortable for him.

  “So what you’re saying is this gift can’t be sexual?”

  “It can be if you choose to have your pussy eaten.” He pushed my skirt up, letting me know it was already decided. This would be the present I got, whether I chose it or not.

  I was okay with that.

  “Ohhhh,” I laughed, my panties now flooded. “That was a punishment last time. Now it’s a present?”

  “I think you’ve learned to feel differently about it.” His lips came down against the panel of cotton covering my damp heat, and I let out a hiss.

  “Yes, yes,” I said, arching into him. “I feel very differently about it.”

  I stretched my hands up over my head and abandoned myself to his mouth and his fingers and his tongue, and it wasn’t until three orgasms had passed, when I was boneless and seeing stars that I realized, despite knowing how he’d answer, it hadn’t even occurred to me to ask for the gift of going home.

  Sixteen

  “Have you ever tried role play?” Edward asked as he led me into the cabana two nights later.

  The days between had been lighter than any I’d had since arriving on the island. While he continued to be stoic and aloof, he did it in close proximity. He’d invited me into his library while he worked. He’d dismissed Eliana and played chess with me himself. He accompanied me on my morning run. Heated glances had turned into subtle caresses, brushes of skin, a few stolen kisses that I’d given willingly. His moves still felt calculated, but there was an organic rhythm to the way we danced around each other, a natural ebb and flow that drew us to each other for heightened moments before we’d part and drift away.

  Always, the drifting felt initiated by him. There was something he was hiding—a lot that he was hiding—and whatever secrets they were, they held him back. More than once, he seemed to start to say one thing then said something else instead. It often felt like a question was ready at the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment to be asked.

  Was this the question he’d been hesitant to ask?

  It didn’t seem powerful enough to give him pause, yet, at the same time, the question felt significant.

  “I can’t say that I have,” I answered. But if role play was what he was after, I was down for it. I could be his naughty secretary, his sassy nurse, his frisky maid, his slutty nun.

  Damn, role play sounded like a lot of fun, actually.

  “Never? Never put on another persona just to see what it felt like? Just to see if you could pull it off?” He walked behind me, his fingers sweeping across my bare shoulders.

  I shivered, but not just from his touch. Everytime he said something that sounded like it could be a veiled reference to The Game, I got cold. I was paranoid, I knew that, but Edward was the kind of man who made it easy to be suspicious.

  I considered how to answer. I’d devoted myself to being honest with him and that meant not tiptoeing around truths just because I didn’t want to deal with the fallout. The Game, though. Talking about that wou
ldn’t be exposing how others had hurt me, but rather how I’d hurt others, and I wasn’t ready to let him see that side of me, not when he seemed to be starting to like the me that he had seen.

  I decided to circumvent. “Is that a loaded question? You know I tried to play you. So you already have an answer.”

  He circled around in front of me, his fingers wandering over my collarbone before skirting the top of my bodice. “This was an excellent choice, by the way. Quite appropriate. You’re stunning in it, too.”

  I glanced down at what I was wearing. It was an Oscar de la Renta strapless gown with metallic leafing and lots of tulle. It was pretty and poofy and made me feel younger than I was, like I was dressed up for the prom. The dress had been one that Edward had sent earlier in the year, one of the items I’d scoffed at because where in the hell was I going to wear something as formal as that on this stupid island?

  But tonight, when his instruction for clothing had merely been, “Dress like you want to be seen,” I’d decided why not?

  When I’d stepped out of my room and found him waiting for me in an extremely well-tailored three-piece suit, I knew I’d chosen right.

  I put a palm on his chest and tugged at his tie with my other hand. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Fasbender.” Maybe precocious schoolgirl was what he’d like. I could do that. Look at him coyly underneath my lashes and ask for help with my grades.

  He continued his circle around me, the tie falling from my grip as he rounded my side. His lips kissed along my shoulder and up the side of my neck. “Here’s what we’re going to play—young sweethearts. We’ve been together for quite some time, but you’ve never let me have my way with you, and believe me, I’ve tried. Tonight, though, you’re finally ready.”

  “To have sex with you?” My words came out breathy.

  “To give me your virginity.”

  My stomach dropped. At the same time, goosebumps scattered down my arms. How was it possible to feel both excitement and dread at the same time? I didn’t know, but that’s exactly what I felt.

  “This is because of what I told you the other night,” I said stiffly. “Are you mocking me?”

  He chuckled, which only increased my skepticism. He found pleasure in my discomfort. He’d never tried to keep that a secret, and so what else would I expect from him now but to twist and turn the private admissions I’d shared with him, using my words against me as I feared from the very beginning.

  But his laugh died quickly, and then he was sucking on my earlobe, sending sharp bolts of lust to my pussy. “Does it feel like I’m mocking you?”

  “No.”

  “How does it feel?” He swept my hair off my other shoulder so he could give the same attention to that side as he had to the first.

  “It feels like you’re trying to be nice,” I admitted. “But it’s hard to trust you. Especially when I don’t know what your motives are.”

  Swiftly, he turned me to face him. “Trust is the one element here I can’t reproduce. You’ll either believe me or you won’t when I tell you that my motives aren’t diabolical.”

  “Then why? Why do you want to do this?” I wasn’t even sure what this was, if it wasn’t mocking.

  “Because once upon a time, an asshole who was a decade older than you took something precious from you without acknowledging how beautiful and precious it was. You were honest and open about that. You gave me what I asked for and this is how I’m moved to respond—with a reward.”

  “And my reward is another decade older asshole who recreates the whole thing?”

  He lifted my chin up with two fingers and stroked my jaw with his thumb. “Not recreate. Replace.”

  The muscles in my shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. There was a nice sentiment there, if I believed it. I wanted to believe it.

  Could I?

  “I don’t know if this is going to work if it’s only about me. I need to feel like you want this too.” My heart tripped in my chest. Of all the vulnerable moments he’d pulled from me, that confession was one of the most raw.

  Instead of answering with words, he bent his head down and kissed me. It was slow, at first, his lips moving, not with caution, but with self-control. I sighed into it, opening my mouth for him, and his tongue slipped in, probing tenderly at first then more aggressively. His hand cupped my jaw, angling my face the way he wanted it while his other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me flush against him where I was met with a very thick, very hard bulge.

  “Does it feel like I don’t want this?” he asked, pulling back just far enough to speak.

  “No. I can’t say that it does.” I wanted to say more, something that would make me feel less unguarded, something that would help me gain my footing.

  But he was kissing me again, more eagerly than before, and the thoughts and doubts disappeared from my mind replaced by the captivating sensations of his teeth and tongue, nipping and licking along my lips, along my jaw, down my décolletage.

  I was dizzy and disoriented when he finally pulled away so he could tug me toward the bedroom. After pushing the door open, he stepped aside for me to pass ahead of him. I walked in and gasped.

  The bed had been made up with luxurious satin bedding. Plush pillows were piled at the head. About a dozen candles were lit around the room, champagne sat chilling in a metal ice bucket. There were four separate vases with bouquets of roses, and, the best part, red and white petals were scattered across the bed and floor.

  Behind me, piano music began playing softly, and when I turned back to Edward I discovered it was coming from his phone. He set it down on a side table and removed his jacket, his eyes never leaving mine.

  My breath caught between my ribs. There was gravity in this moment. Romance and affectionate gestures were not his style. Even when someone else had thought of them, he was not the type to carry them out, and seeing him now, witnessing what he’d done for me was both overwhelming and confusing.

  I shook my head as he strode toward me, unsure how to process any of it.

  When he reached me, his hand once again cradled my face. “Do you want this?”

  It was the first time he’d ever made me feel like I had a choice. Four simple words, and for all the ways he’d held me captive, his asking made the entire scene everything that my first time hadn’t been. Then, I’d felt trapped. What happened with John had seemed inevitable. Like it was what I was destined for, to lie down and be quiet. To be a good lay.

  Now, with Edward, a man who never asked permission, who took what he wanted and gave even less, his offer of a choice was an enormous gift.

  And yes. I did want it. More than I could bear.

  “I’m going to need you to say it,” he prompted when I hesitated too long in answering. “Nothing happens without your consent.”

  I stepped into him, brushing my lips against his. “Yes, please, Edward. I want this, please.”

  He devoured me. He worshipped my mouth, his hands raking through my hair, occasionally pulling too hard, the sting of pain making me wetter than I already was. It was a relief to have the rough mixed with the soft, to know that the man I was kissing was still really Edward and not just this persona he’d invented for this game, not just the guy he thought I wanted.

  Because that’s what I really wanted—him. Only him.

  Kissing led to groping, and when I’d managed to wrestle both his tie and his belt from him, he broke away to lead me to the bed. With the flat of his hand at my back, he pushed my torso down to the mattress.

  “Stay,” he said before dropping to his knees where he took off my shoes, kissing the instep of each foot as he did. Then his hands stroked up my legs, pushing them wider apart as he settled between them under my skirt. My thong was quickly removed, and then his mouth was there, licking my clit.

  He teased me with his tongue, spiraling me up with flat brutal passes over my bud, making me pant when he followed with featherlike flicks with just the tip. The first orgasm came quickly, like a gut punc
h, the full force of it felt on the onset. If I hadn’t already been doubled over, the climax would have taken me to that position.

  Edward stood and lay his torso on top of mine. I could feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my ass as his breath blew hot at my ear. “I cannot imagine a better taste than your pussy. My favorite flavor.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks, and my chest tightened, wanting to believe it. Not sure how much of this was an act.

  “Do you mean that?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  “Only honesty, remember?”

  My cheek was still pressed into the mattress, away from him. He couldn’t see the doubt on my face as I echoed him. “Only honesty.”

  Was that really what this was? Honesty? It felt too good to be honest.

  His hand worked the zipper of my dress, pulling me to a standing position when it was all the way down so that it would fall to my feet. I’d gone braless, and my muscles tensed with the realization that I was now naked while he was still almost fully clothed. It made me feel off-balanced. Defenseless. Vulnerable.

  But that was always the tilt of power between us, whether I was nude or not, and as disarming as it could be, I was beginning to learn that there were benefits too. Don’t be so scared you miss out on the good stuff, I’d said to baby Liam.

  I could have been saying it to myself.

  With the next breath, I let the strain release from my body.

  “That’s it, little bird,” Edward said, turning me to face him.