Chapter 6 Ripper
Ripper
This woman loves pushing my buttons. I don’t know how she does it, but she sees right through the bullshit, right down to the rot.
My lips ghost over the smooth skin of her throat, and I feel it—the frantic, betraying thud of her pulse under my mouth. My pretty little liar.
The lie is so sweet it makes my teeth ache. There was a time when the scent of fear followed me like a shadow. I learned how useful fear is.
Everyone had the good sense to be terrified. Everyone but Judge.
He saw potential in the feral, vicious person I was—a weapon I was happy to be.
We rose together through blood and broken knuckles.
But once he had power, he needed a diplomat, someone charming.
He no longer needed the weapon; it had to be sheathed.
So I learned to smile, say the right words, and instead of fighting to release my inner rage, I learned to fuck.
And now here she is, poking at the box I locked that weapon in.
It’s infuriating. It’s a fire in my gut. Can’t she see what she’s doing to me? The control I’ve spent years building is cracking, and all she does is look at me with those wide eyes, talking about my scars like they’re something to mourn for.
My eyes drop to the mark on her neck, the faint bruise I left earlier. The sight of it, my brand on her skin, makes my thoughts spiral into a whirlwind. There’s a demand that I make her mine, not just for a reckless night, but for an eternity.
She wants the real me? She has no idea what she’s asking for.
I stiffen when I feel the soft touch of her fingertips against the back of my neck. It’s a soothing stroke, but it doesn’t provide any relief. It only makes my body burn hotter.
Lifting, I stare down at her. Hoping she’ll tell me to get off her, or demand I leave, she doesn’t.
Her mouth is frowning, such a defiant curve. Feeling like our kisses shared earlier were a lifetime ago, I almost cave to the thought of feeling them again.
It’s impossible to think when she’s touching me. I grab her hand and pull it away.
“There’s only one place I’m hurting, Haven, and it’s got nothing to do with some old wounds.” Squeezing her fingers and stealing her warmth, I flatten her hand against my chest and drag it down my stomach.
The hitch in her breathing assures me that she’ll yank away, but she’s stubborn, allowing her curiosity to keep up with my frustration.
Swallowing down a groan when her palm hits denim, my jaw tightens as her palm reaches my constant arousal. “You’ve done your own damage.”
Then it happens.
A flush, a slow, creeping pink that blooms across her cheeks and stains the skin of her throat. Her eyes, wide and searching, drop to where her hand is pressed against me. She gives an experimental, hesitant squeeze.
My hips jerk involuntarily, a sharp, helpless thrust against her palm, and a low, ragged groan is torn from my lips before I can stop it.
Her eyes snap back to mine, wider than ever, filled with a dawning, shocking realization.
“I did this?” she whispers, the words barely audible, laced with a hesitant awe that nudges me closer to my downfall.
Of course she did. Even when she’s pissing me off, twisting me up inside, my body is her willing punishment.
There’s not much good left in a man like me. Still, a small, rotten chunk hopes she’ll see the monster beneath it all, the man she’s demanding I be, and get scared. Really scared. To the point where she’ll stop trying to pry the lid off a box that should stay sealed.
But as she blushes, as her thumb moves in the faintest, most curious stroke against the denim, that last hope dies. She’s not running. She’s leaning in.
Haven doesn’t shy away. The hellion lifts from the bed, her mouth grazing mine, and my thoughts spiral into fucking oblivion.
That one little touch, that ghost of a kiss, and I’m gone. She has no idea how dangerous it is to offer herself in that way. No idea what she’s unleashing.
A raw sound tears from my throat, and I swallow the gasp she makes as I flatten her against the mattress again, my hand cradling the back of her head so it doesn’t hurt. The last shred of gentleness I’ll fucking have.
My mouth crashes down on hers, all teeth and desperation. It’s a battle she immediately surrenders, her lips parting on a sigh that I drink down like a dying man.
Satisfied with what she’s started, my body twitches and jerks beneath her hands as she drags them back up. All across the past scars, the dips in my chest, everything, she’s pulling me toward her. We’ve both hit our limit.
I can’t think. Not when her hands come up to tangle in my hair, not to push me away, but to pull me closer, her nails scraping against my scalp.
Breaking from her mouth to trail a searing path down her throat, she arches into me, a broken moan slipping past her lips. The sound goes straight to my cock. Every one of those soft, pleading noises she makes is another knot coming undone in my head, another thread of my control snapping.
She doesn’t ask for anything. Just gives. Gives me her mouth, her throat, the frantic beat of her heart under my lips. When I lick a hot stripe across her collarbone, she moans again, my name resting against the tip of her tongue.
This is worse than a fight. This is a different kind of war, and I’m losing, gladly. I’m drowning in the feel of her, the scent of her, the way her body moves under mine like she was made for it. For me.
Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she stops me instantly, breaking out of her heated spell for a short moment. While I growl out of impatience, her fingers hold a slight tremble.
“I don’t want to take it off.” Her teeth worry into her bottom lip. “Can I keep it on?”
The obvious answer is no. My hunger demands I see her naked against the bed, but the fear in her eyes shoves the answer down my throat.
“For now.” Getting the words out, it’s not concrete. One day, I’ll see what she’s hiding. Today might not be the day, but there will be a time.
Moving my hands to her jeans, her entire body shivers as I undo the button. From here, I can smell her arousal. It’s almost laughable how quickly my mouth waters. I have to fight not to press my face against her and breathe in such an incredible scent.
Instead of caving, I’m growling when she stops me again.
“What if I’m gross down there? I mean, I ran earlier, and—”
Her gasp is lovely when I jerk her jeans down, revealing flushed skin beneath and a pair of purple underwear. Nothing fancy, just cotton. Yet, they’re everything under my gaze as I throw her pants far enough away that she won’t worry about putting them back on.
“I’m doing this for me, you understand?” Breathing heavily, my hands squeeze her hips next, hard enough to leave them sore. “I’m being the greedy bastard I am. I don’t give a fuck if you’re dirty or clean. This is how I want you. Just like this.”
Haven dips her chin once, a single nod. She understands, but she’s still worried.
Groaning as I push her thighs apart, I feel the goosebumps forming against my fingers.
The hunger clawing at my insides isn’t sated once I finally see what she wants to keep to herself. Instead, it’s all-consuming.
I don’t care if the club suddenly gets surrounded. Right now, there’s only enough room for Haven.
This beauty isn’t just a liar, but she’s fooled me. She can keep a secret. She’s just as wound up as I am. What a fucking discovery.
A damp patch shouldn’t make my head spin, but I feel dizzy anyway. One thin layer is my greatest enemy, and all I want to do is shove it to the side and finally get a taste of her pussy.
I can’t. If I go in too quickly, it’ll ruin everything. Such a good thing shouldn’t end early.
Her muscles flex against my fingers. She’s getting impatient; the realization is perfect enough to make my mouth curve.
Leaning in, I flatten my tongue against the patch, tasting a hint of her saltiness. One little lick, and I feel my cock leak, soaking my underwear.
Her gasp is soft as my fingers dig into her thighs, locking her in place as I discover something amazing. Something unreal.
Am I able to let Haven go now that I’ve got an idea of what she tastes like? I haven’t even tasted her honey at the source yet, and I’m addicted.
Her body betrays her, arching beneath my lips as my tongue lifts to where I know her clit is, swollen with need.
So reactive, I know it’ll be easy to make her come undone. How will she taste once she’s flooding my tongue with her release?
“I’ve never come without my cock being touched.” Admitting the confession against her inner thigh, my brows come together as I can feel the pressure collecting. “You might be the one to change that, sweetheart.”
Her skin instantly turns a darker shade of red at my claim.
For a few seconds, I catch myself lost with the blush on her face. My heart is going at it, beating away in my chest.
This is new. I’ve never felt this way before, and that realization is a terror I’m unprepared for.
Reminding myself that this is about pleasure, and not about strange feelings that want to seep in, I pull back to get to the best part.
She doesn’t stop me this time, letting me peel her underwear off.
Hoping my arousal will take over, that I’ll be able to see Haven as nothing but a way to release this tension, I’m once again proved horribly wrong.
Perfect pink lips, surprisingly glossy, leave my lungs burning as I realize I’ve stopped breathing.
For the first time in my life, I feel at a loss of words.
“Don’t just stare.” Flinching, she pinches her eyes shut as her brows come together. She looks pained. “Do I look that bad?”
Insecurity drips from her lips, and the heat of anger rises in my chest. Who in the fuck made her feel this way to begin with?
“Haven.” Growling her name, I don’t move until she finally opens her eyes, meeting mine. “You’re gorgeous everywhere.”
When she covers her face and shakes her head, I’m tempted to stand up and show her the damage she’s done. Can’t she see what she’s doing?
I’d think she was enjoying herself if it weren’t for the insecurities rolling off of her.
Spreading her apart so I can take in her pink folds, I swallow thickly. “I noticed you the moment you came here, Haven. You think that was by chance? Hell no. It’s because you stood out.”
“You say that like I don’t already know that.” Huffing, she gives a wonderful frown as she peeks at me through the cracks of her fingers. “If I knew I should’ve come looking like a biker, I would’ve found a leather jacket.”
She draws out a snort from me. “I’m not talking about that. You were different. I felt it deep in my soul that there was something about you. Before I knew it, I was already at the bar, right next to you.”
Never had a woman flinch because I smiled at her. Was that what did it? The rejection?
Right now, the last thing she’s doing is rejecting me. Her thighs are relaxing beneath my touch, her toes curling in the blankets. I believe I’ve made her wait long enough, and I don’t think I have much patience left to spare.