RUIN: A M/M Romance Novel

by Daya Daniels

  Griffon moans.

  His eyes flash. His lips tremble and his body shakes against mine where I have him pinned with one of my thighs nudged between his. His nearly folds in on himself when I stroke him slow, enjoying the warmth of his skin along my palm.

  He searches my face as I tug him off, mouth gapes, eyes wide like he doesn’t know who I am. He lunges for me, and shoves his tongue into my mouth, leaving my lips wet and sore when he pulls away.

  With a whimper, he regains his footing and rocks into my hand.

  Soon, we’re moving together, in perfect harmony…

  I pull.

  He pushes.

  He plows into the cocoon of my hand, grunting like a beast, chasing what I so desperately need. I let go and run my hand up and over his abs, admiring the chiseled line of his hips, adoring the muscle there.

  His cock hangs hard and heavy.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I take his earlobe between my teeth and shove my dick into his hip, letting him feel how much I want him.

  “No.” The word comes out on a breath.

  My hand crawls up his chest. It slides over the cross tatted there and presses right where his heart is. I peer into his grays, losing myself, stuck someplace between wanting to adore him and needing to run as far away as I can.

  He tugs on his dick with long eager strokes when I don’t touch it again.

  His heart slams in his chest, beating, beating, beating crazily.

  “Good, because I don’t want to stop.” I take hold of the monster again, sliding my fisted hand along the length of it.

  Griffon shudders. His body becomes rigid as he grunts.

  Working him good, I tug on his wet dick faster, firmer, using long strokes that cause his cock to swell and twitch in my hand. His grunts fill the silence along with the squelching of my hand as I work his length.

  His body turns to stone, hips jerking forward, open-mouthed groans leaving him. I jerk him off hard and fast. He stares down at his cock in euphoric horror when he comes.

  I let go.

  His dick snakes in my hand like it has a life of its own.

  It pulses.

  It throbs.

  It bounces everywhere. Thick strands of white cum leave the head of it in angry rhythmic spurts that accompany his harsh grunting as he empties his balls all over the floor.

  I kiss his lips, savoring how they feel on mine.

  His fingers drag through my hair. He shoves a thick section of it away from my eyes, gifting me with the most adoring look. I don’t move, only breathe, loving this moment with him.

  I’d been in this room for over an hour before Griffon had arrived.

  I had looked at his photographs and drawings.

  I’d even found something he probably eventually wanted me to have.

  So, I took it and shoved it in my pocket because it was beautiful.

  I wonder what the two of us would be like out in the big bad world together.

  Everything in my soul is soft realizing that I’ve finally found a real friend. One I want to keep. I flip through my schedule in my head over the next few months thinking of the perfect place to take Griffon for lunch and to do everything else with in between.

  I stroke his warm cheek and kiss him softly, our wet lips loud when we finally stop.

  “I’m not your bitch,” he pants, his eyes full of uncertainty.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Because I’m yours…

  GRIFFON

  THE NEXT MORNING…

  Ambling down the wide hallways, I peek into almost every room. I’d been at this for well over and hour. I refused to ask anyone about Ryker’s whereabouts, hoping I’d just stumble upon him maybe in the recreation room or outside where everyone goes to catch the sun and fresh breeze.

  In my hands, I hold the leather-bound and weathered version of Richard II desperate to talk about it since I’d spent the entire night last night reading it.

  In the story, Richard wastes money like there’s no tomorrow, steals property including land that’s supposed to be inherited by children of dead men and other people he’d murdered like pigs like the tyrant he was. It is then, right in the middle of the story, that the nobility secretly devise a plan to overthrow Richard.

  But of course, every king has his loyal subjects…

  I march past the TV room, tilting my head indiscreetly, ignoring how crazed I feel.

  What had happened to him?

  Where is he?

  Last night, after Ryker had jerked me off in a way I don’t think I’ve ever even done to myself before, we crawled into the tiny single bed in my room and stared at each other.

  Ryker talked about getting better.

  I told him it was my plan to do the same.

  It was as if we both had this promise to keep not just to each other but to ourselves. It made me feel a little more hopeful about what often feels like my hopeless situation.

  After all, I didn’t commit myself to Spero.

  I’m only here because the only two people in the world who give a shit about me feel I should be. I couldn’t deny it. I spent my weeknights getting high and the weekends getting even more blitzed. It’s been a downward spiral. The least I can do is acknowledge that there was a problem. It wasn’t hard, especially since the night before I came here, I woke up naked and in a puddle of my own vomit when I passed out on the bathroom floor at home after taking a shower at four o’clock in the morning.

  The next day I was brought here.

  Sigh.

  Smiling, Lauren approaches. “Hey, Griffon, how are you today?”

  I scowl. “I don’t like church. Some women should really wear deodorant you know.”

  Lauren’s nose wrinkles and her lips part to say something but she’s speechless.

  Samantha places a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “Ignore him. He’s a fucking asshole.”

  Yessireeee.

  With every passing minute, I find myself growing more annoyed.

  “Where is he?” I mutter to myself, then stop when I make it to Doctor Azad’s office. The door is cracked, so I knock and nudge it open a bit to find him sitting at his desk, tapping away at his keyboard.

  He removes his glasses and sets them down. “Good morning, Griffon.”

  “Good morning.” I stare at the book in my hand, squeezing it more tightly than necessary.

  Doctor Azad stands. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I purse my lips. “No.”

  Doctor Azad waits and waits for me to speak.

  “Where is Ryker?”

  Exhaling, he drags his fingers through his hair, steps from behind his large desk and approaches me. “Ryker is gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shoves his hands into the pockets of his white jacket. “I mean…” He tips his head forward once, brows arched. “He left this morning before the sun came up.”

  “But he isn’t finished with his treatment.”

  Doctor Azad sighs. “Yes, I know. He knows too. But this is the way it always is with Ryker. He comes here for a few days and then he leaves.” He shrugs and places a hand on my shoulder.

  I squirm out of his grip and stare him down. “How could you let him leave?”

  Doctor Azad backs away.

  “He isn’t better.” I take a step forward.

  “Even though you think it is, Griffon, this is not a prison. People come and go as they please. We’re all adults here.” He gestures with his hand to me. “We encourage people to stay until they’ve finished their treatment but if they want to leave there is nothing we can do to stop them.”

  I look around, perplexed, worried mostly!

  “He’ll be back, Griffon, I’m assured. If he isn’t, he’ll surely be dead in the next six months.”

  His words make me feel ill.

  I get lost someplace for a moment.

  “What is this really about, Griffon?” He reaches for the book in my hand, takes it in his and flips through it. “This is
a great play.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  He stiffens like a soldier about to salute. “For heaven’s sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories about the death of kings.”

  I laugh a little, realizing that Ryker had placed a bookmark to the page with this quote on it. I’m still not sure why.

  Doctor Azad chuckles. “The text goes on to explain how the king had been overthrown and died in war. Some were haunted by the ghosts of the kings they had overthrown too. Some poisoned by their wives while others were killed in their sleep. All of them were murdered though because there’s always death around kings.” He presses his lips together.

  …Because death laughs at the king’s reign and mocks all the ceremonies he holds allowing him to live a little and play the role of the king. He gets to enjoy life but its only temporary…

  “Yeah.” I snatch the book back out of his hands. It’s clearly the only gift Ryker had left me with. This and the sordid memory of his warm hand wrapped around my cock while he jerked me off sending me to the edge of almost losing it.

  “How did he leave here?” I ask.

  “His mother sent the Bentley to pick him up, as always.”

  A Bentley?

  Doctor Azad points out the window to the gravel-covered roundabout where the cars usually wait. “The Benedicts’ driver, Sam, was outside at six o’clock this morning sharp, as always.”

  The Benedicts’ driverrrrr?

  I wish I could wipe the ridiculous look off my face, but I think it’s stuck there.

  “Is everything okay, Griffon?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I exhale. “No.” I shake my head. “I thought Ryker was a foster kid?”

  Doctor Azad scoffs and shoots me a look as though I’m the stupidest boy in Connecticut. “No, Griffon, he is not a foster kid, far from it.” This time he really laughs, then he spins away from me. “Ryker Benedict is a golden boy.” He eases down into his leather chair. “The Benedict family have more money than sense and have more clout in your…” He gestures with his hand toward me. “Great big thriving metropolis called New York City and more influence than the fucking Pope himself.”

  Doctor Azad’s profanity surprises me.

  I’m still glued to the floor looking like someone kicked me right in the chest.

  Ryker lied to me.

  Doctor Azad crosses his legs at the knee. “I told you to stay away from him, Griffon. He’s a troubled kid, very troubled.”

  He can’t be more troubled than me.

  I nod a few times, feeling what I think are tears gathering at the corners of my eyes and pissed as shit about that.

  “Ryker doesn’t want to be helped regardless of what he says.” Doctor Azad gives me a pointed stare. “It’s why the door to Spero is revolving for him. It’s why he has a permanent room here.” With a sigh, he shifts. “Now, I cannot tell you anything more specific about him since it would breach my patient/doctor confidentiality agreement when it comes to Ryker. So, unfortunately that’s all I can say.” He steeples his fingers in front of him.

  I swallow all the excess saliva gathering in my cheeks.

  I’m about to upchuck!

  “Griffon, you have a chance at getting better. A real chance.”

  Keeping my head low, I nod.

  “I want you to focus on your own sobriety.”

  “Yeah, yes, absolutely.” I can’t stop nodding.

  That motherfucker fed me utter bullshit from the first day I met him. Had me feeling nothing but pity for him when he’s just some rich sonofabitch who can’t keep his nose out of the coco and the blades away from his wrists.

  I told him I love him!

  He told me he loved me too…

  What the hell was that then since he’d left here without so much as a word?

  My fists ball at my sides and my jaw clenches so tight I think my teeth are about to crumble to dust! Beads of sweat gather at my temples and my heart rate increases to a hella risky level.

  Ryker Benedict sure can get a rise out of me.

  That BASTARD!

  “Ryker Benedict has to worry about Ryker Benedict.” Doctor Azad inhales.

  I head for the door. “I understand.”

  “God only helps those who help themselves.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter.

  Then, I’m gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  GRIFFON

  I’M BACK HOME.

  The same place I lovingly used to refer to as “prison.”

  Surprisingly, being back in Hell’s Kitchen has never felt so good.

  There are lots of legends about how it got its name. It’s always been a tough neighborhood since the 1800s when the Irish first settled there followed by the Italians. It’s no different now but maybe just a little more refined.

  I feel fresh and ready to start anew.

  It’s September.

  I’d already been back at NYU for a week.

  It’s the home of roughly sixty thousand students and of the Bobcat—our official mascot.

  The campus is thriving this morning with hundreds of students.

  Violet flags flap in the breeze from the massive buildings that encircle me.

  I’d discovered that no one really knows why the school’s color is violet. Some people around here believe that violets used to grow in Washington State Park and others think the color was taken from the flower most associated with Athens since it’s the center for education and knowledge.

  Who knows…

  I think it’s pretty, perks me up in the morning considering my overall shit mood.

  Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I walk through the large courtyard and beneath the canopy of trees that lead to the west hall where my class is.

  The sun shines down on the dewy grass making it all appear golden tipped and the sparrows that flutter around chirp. I shove my earbuds in my ears. Green Day’s “American Idiot” explodes in my ears.

  I’d completed rehab.

  I’ve also been as clean as a whistle.

  I keep in contact with Doctor Azad almost regularly. I’m allowed to call him and even text whenever I feel like it. He’s the first clinical psychologist that I’ve ever met who genuinely seems interested in the long-term success of his patients.

  Spero wasn’t a bad place, but still I don’t miss it.

  I like my freedom out here.

  There’s nothing like it.

  I’d cyber-stalked Ryker a few nights ago to discover that he’s the son of fancy socialite Bella Benedict and Francis Barnaby Benedict—a wealthy real estate investor who just about owns half the buildings in this city. They have numerous homes throughout this large state but the biggest one…the one I’m guessing they reside in is right on Park Avenue, Upper West Side and takes up an entire corner of the fucking block.

  Ryker attended the most expensive private schools and he often joined his parents on luxurious vacations to Switzerland and Russia.

  I can just about get out of New York City…

  And to top it all off and make the bullshit even sweeter, their two-hundred-foot super-yacht, Xelus, is berthed in the ONE°15 Brooklyn Marina.

  He’s an only child, just as he’d said.

  At least he hadn’t lied about that…

  I sat back in my desk chair and tapped, tapped, tapped on the mousepad.

  “Well, I’ll be damned…” were the only words that came to my mind.

  Ryker hadn’t just lied to me but he’d smeared the bullshit on nice and thick and I gobbled it all up like a fucking loser.

  “Hi, Griffon,” a rando sings out.

  I don’t bother to wave back since I have no clue who he is.

  Marching down the hallways, the noise grows louder. The tittering of students and faculty fills my head telling me there’s so much life here on this campus. So many people who dream of one day being success stories. So many kids here who one day will change the world.r />
  Still, when it comes to my education, I hadn’t decided exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my life for a career, so I took the safe road and decided to pursue a bachelor’s degree and major in education and human development.

  Since I’ve already been here a year, with the hope of God and lots of sleepless nights, I should be finished in exactly twenty-four more months.

  Tonight, I have to work if I want to have money to eat and tomorrow I’ll be back at this. No partying in between. I’d made up my mind that would be my schedule with no deviations from it.

  My willpower is strong. The desire to use is at an all-time low. I’m focused and I’m ready to start anew.

  The crowd disperses and the noise around here calms as I head toward my destination. My boots pound the floors. I take the stairs and when I round the corner a body crashes into me hard, stealing my breath away.

  What the fuck?

  My earbuds fall out of my ears with the slam. An arm wraps around my shoulder. The books I’m carrying are pressed to my chest before I can drop them. Thanks so fucking much. I struggle to squirm out of the hold then freeze when I spot the gorgeous face in my face.

  “Griffon Luca Russo, how are you?” Ryker peers at me, his pretty blue eyes alight, as if we’re besties. He presses a wet kiss to my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Get off me,” I snarl, not looking at him, attempting to squirm out of his grip, but it’s iron, relentless, warm and comforting.

  Fuck.

  “You haven’t missed me?” He smiles.

  “No, I haven’t.” We keep walking.

  It all makes sense now.

  This is where I’d first seen this bastard.

  Right here, at NYU, on campus.

  “I’ve been looking for you all week, Griffon. I knew I’d bump into you eventually though.”

  My breaths are rapid and angry. “Oh yeah.”

  “Yeah, since we’re in love and all.”

  I face him head-on. “You’re insane.”

  Frowning, he lets me go and stops.

  I keep walking.

  I haven’t heard from this motherfucker since the day he left Spero—when he had disappeared from my world. No phone call. No email. And of course, no handwritten letter.