12 Ruined #2
“I know,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
Footsteps echo nearby.
“I can still fight,” I say, even as my knees threaten to give out.
“Right,” he huffs. “Just fight to stay alive.”
Luca comes around the corner. “Shit.”
Dakota joins him. “Area’s clear. We should move.” Her eyes widen, rushing over. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m okay.” I turn to face her, but her eyes are on Jace; there’s a scratch on his arm where he tore his sleeve. He shrugs her off.
“Don’t touch me.” He turns back to me, helping me up slowly, keeping one arm around my waist.
Luca comes over and takes my other arm, helping hold me up.
I hate how much I need the support, but I let them help.
“Can you walk?” Luca asks, his voice low.
I nod, jaw clenched. “I’m no damsel in distress.”
“Not a chance. Badass through and through.” He smiles.
“You’re lucky it’s just a superficial wound.” The doctor finishes taping plastic wrap over my bandage, then pulls off her gloves. “Somehow it didn't hit anything major.”
“I’m not sure lucky is how I’d describe myself,” I mutter under my breath.
She either doesn’t hear me or chooses to ignore my comment.
“Take it easy this week. Let the stitches be; keep them clean—no heavy lifting. Take the antibiotics to stave off infections.”
“Thank you.” I look at Jace out of the corner of my eye. He’s been looming over the doctor like a ghoul.
“I’m assuming you’re going to want to shower, so I’ve applied a hydrophobic bandage. I’ve left a stack for you. Just make sure you change it out. You know where to find me if you need anything else. Take care.” She nods and ducks out of my room.
I pick up my shirt and stand up from the couch, wincing slightly.
With two quick strides, he’s beside me, ready to catch me.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re always ‘fine.’” He says.
I roll my eyes.
“Come on.” He starts walking toward the bathroom.
“What?”
“Did you hit your head or something?” He pulls his shirt off in one fluid motion.
The muscles in his back flex as he rolls his shoulders.
My mouth dries.
“No…?” My answer is breathy.
“Then come on. I’m going to help you.”
“I can just call Maeve.” I look around for my phone.
He turns, leaning against the doorframe of my bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest. My eyes trace over the veins in his arms, the sculpted lines of his muscles. “We both know you won’t. It’s late, and she just went to bed. Plus, she’s a cranky person to wake up.”
I sigh. He’s not wrong.
“Just let me take care of you.” Jace smirks.
“Fine,” I grit out, trudging toward the bathroom.
The tile is cold under my feet, the light bright, Jace’s black cargo pants are a stark contrast to the pristine white marble. I close the door, and we just stare at each other.
“This is ridiculous,” I sigh, starting to unbutton my pants.
“Stop.” His voice is clear.
I’m not sure why my body listens. He moves closer, my eyes trail down his body. His warmth radiates towards me.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers.
“Am not.”
“You are.”
I exhale through my nose, annoyed at him and my body. The fact that my side screams every time I breathe too deep. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s the blood loss and adrenaline wearing off,” he says as if I’m being difficult.
He kneels down, looking up at me. I could get used to seeing Jace Ravencourt on his knees for me. His icy blue eyes pierce into mine. I dip my chin once.
He lifts his hands up to my pants, pulling the zipper down, the sound filling the bathroom. He works them down my legs, I rest my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as I pull each foot out.
He stands up slowly, his chest rises and falls with each breath.
He turns on the shower, and the sound softens the tension.
I give Jace my back and his fingers slide under my sports bra, working it off.
His belt clinks as he undoes it, then the rustle of his pants being undone and falling to the floor.
I close my eyes, thumb my undies and slide them off with a grunt.
“You could’ve just waited for me,” Jace says.
“I can do this,” I say.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” His gaze stays on my face as I turn around.
I walk past him and step into the shower, letting the water hit the side the bandage isn’t on.
Jace follows, the glass door shutting behind him. He stands in front of the spray.
I scoff.
“Well, excuse you.” I make a face.
“You’re supposed to be careful.” He frowns.
“I was.” A shiver runs through my body.
He reaches over, grabbing my loofah, and squeezes soap onto it.
The scent of raspberry vanilla swirls with steam, mixing into the air.
He moves slowly over my body, each touch a gentle caress as he cleans my skin.
I close my eyes, my body relaxes under his touch.
The loofah drags along my shoulder, down my arm. His knuckles brush my skin.
My breath hitches.
He moves, removing the shower head, switching to a gentle setting, letting the water run over my skin, watching as the suds wash down the drain.
I turn, and he works shampoo into my hair. The scalp massage feels heavenly. I close my eyes as I let him take care of me. Washing the suds out.
His hard cock brushes against me and I reach out instinctively to grab it.
He lets out a soft groan, “Iz—”
“It’s my turn to take care of you.” I push his back against the shower wall. He hisses at the contact.
“But your stitches.” He grunts as I continue moving my hand up and down his shaft. The skin soft but firm in my hand.
“Doesn’t affect my mouth,” I reply, my voice is husky.
I lower to my knees, wary of my side. I place one hand on his thigh before sliding him into my mouth. I twirl my tongue around the smooth velvet head and his hand finds my head before I suck hard. The sound he makes is obscene. My hand travels down in between my legs to rub my clit.
“Yes, fuck.” He groans, looking down. I keep my eyes on his as he watches me finger myself while sucking his cock.
The heat in his eyes has pleasure tingling through my body. There’s something about the way he watches me, it has me soaking. He holds me still pushing himself off the wall and he thrusts himself in and out my mouth.
“Fuck yourself while I fuck this mouth.” He groans and I obey, moaning around him.
His abs flex, his chest rising and falling as his breath quickens. I finger myself in tandem to his thrusts. His brows draw together and his mouth drops open as everything tightens and he comes. I greedily swallow him down as he growls through his release.
He pulls me up to my feet and kisses me. He squats down, lifting me by my thighs, my legs wrap around his waist. My hands twist in his wet hair, as he leaves the shower.
With one hand he grabs a towel off the rack and carries me to the counter, throwing the towel down and setting me on it.
He trails kisses across my jaw and down my neck, moving up to my ear to nibble on my earlobe. He pinches my nipple as he plays with my breasts, his other hand circling my clit with perfect pressure.
It doesn’t take long before I’m coming apart, moaning his name into his mouth. I lean back, resting my shoulders on the cool mirror; it’s refreshing on my heated skin.
“I will never get enough of you,” he pants against my neck.
I chew on my bottom lip. “You’re not going to get sick of waiting? I know it’s not the same…”
He pulls back and grips my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes to stay on his.
“Sick of waiting?” he repeats, almost amused. “Isobel Ashthorne, you have no idea what you do to me.” His grip tightens, possessive. “You’ve already ruined me. And I’ll gladly let you.”
My pulse stutters.
“I’ll wait for as long as you need, because you’re everything.” His mouth curves, wicked and dirty. “Though, trust me, when I finally have you the way I want, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”