26. Ruby
twenty-six
Morning seeps into the room, filtered through the blinds. A warm arm wraps around me, pulling me to rest on his chest.
Cassius.
Everything is so heavy, my limbs, my thoughts, my life. My parents are dead. My mark is taking care of me. Where once I stood in darkness alone, I am now blanketed in safety and light.
I trail a finger down an old scar on his chest. It’s not one I put there. It’s crescent shaped and jagged, so faded that had I not been this close, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it.
“I was twelve,” he says softly, answering the question I didn’t ask. His voice is hoarse with sleep, rough around the quiet edges. “My mom had a new flavor of the week. She had this grand idea of a knight in shining armor who would come to save her. A man who would give her everything money could buy including a one-way ticket out of the Row.”
I look up at him quizzically.
“The Row, that’s what they call the part of town I grew up in. At one point, I guess when my great-grandparents bought their house for pennies on the dollar, it was a nice area, but drugs and violence eventually seeped their way into the neighborhood. Almost everyone knew someone on death row. I guess someone must have said it once and it stuck.”
“Anyway,” he continues, “my mom did everything she could to get out of the Row, except the things that would actually get her out of there, like work. She had a new boyfriend every week, a new fiancé every month. Most of them would knock me around, but very few ever got rough with her. My mom was a crazy fucking bitch.”
He tugs gently at my braid. “She’d give you a real run for your money.”
His chest rumbles beneath me with laughter, and I decide it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.
“So, I was twelve and this dude, he was huge, much bigger than me at the time, and probably even bigger than me now, went after Garrett. G had told him he was wrong about something, I don’t even remember what, but this dude dove over the kitchen table and had his hands around G’s neck. I jumped on the guy’s back and started wailing at him with anything I could reach. A cookie sheet, a spatula, and finally a coffee mug. After I hit him over the head with it, it vibrated in my hand so hard I dropped it. The dude let go of G, tore me off his back and threw me across the house. I landed on the coffee table in the living room, chest down on a stupid pewter Lord of the Rings ashtray. Fucking thing was covered in elves.” He chuckles. “And those elves were sharp.”
“Oh my God,” I say, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice, but it creeps slowly up my spine until I can’t hold it in any longer. I’m shaking with laughter. “You were literally attacked by elves.”
His hand brushes a loose strand of hair out of my face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.” His lips press into the top of my head. “I like it.”
“I didn’t know you and Garrett had been friends for so long.”
“We’ve been friends since we were like… seven? Maybe eight? He and his dad moved in next door. We spent a lot of time at my house because at least at my house there was only a chance of getting our ass beat. My mom may have been a crazy bitch, but his dad was cruel. We were left on our own a lot, so we did a lot of stealing. Looking back, I don’t know if we were as good at it as we thought we were. I wonder if the lady at the corner bodega just felt bad.”
I turn, resting my chin on his chest. His smile is bright and warm, and I’m not sure how it’s possible that it’s both. Bright is harsh, warm is soft. He’s a contradiction. I reach up, my fingertips slide down his face, committing his jawline to memory. He swallows and his eyes search mine.
“She’s alive.”
I sit up.
“She’s safe.”
“Cassius, what do you mean she’s alive?”
“The girl. The one you’re looking for.”
“How?” I climb out of bed; the floor is cold under my bare feet. How did he do it? And better yet, how did Rowan miss it?
“Garrett helped, he’s really good at what he does.”
“Rowan is too.”
“Rowan?”
“She is my tech person.” I stop pacing. “And I think she might be my best friend. My only friend.”
“Well, in your BFF’s defense, I actually did kidnap her. I had to make it look real. But then we set her up in a safe place far away from here.”
“But why did you do it?”
“Babe, she was trafficked by her own father. He sold her to Elijah Cranston. You know, the big shot defense attorney? He’s dead, by the way. Anyway, he legally adopted her. Which only made it worse. She was a gift for his fucking piece of shit son.”
I groan. “Cassius, what did you do?”
“I assumed it was him who hired you and if anyone deserved to die it was that douchebag. Besides, you pissed me off, leaving me here high and dry the other night. I had to get my aggression out somehow.”
I level him with a glare. “Wait, you are blaming me for this?”
“Damn right,” he counters as he climbs out of bed, his long strides reaching me in no time.
“Cassius, how the hell is this my fa—”
His lips cut me off. His kiss feels like it wants to swallow me in a single bite. He’s a ravenous beast and I’m his prey. He pulls away, his eyebrows narrow.
“Get on your knees,” he commands.
When I don’t move, his eyes darken, but his voice quiets. It’s so low that I almost miss when he says, “What did I tell you before? You may be a queen out there, but this,” his finger jabs the air between us, “this is my fucking kingdom. Get on your fucking knees and don’t make me repeat myself in the bedroom ever again.”
My insides squirm and I bite my bottom lip. “I think—”
Cassius growls, and that is all it takes to bring me to my knees. Thoughts? What fucking thoughts?
He pulls down his boxers, gripping his length. He strokes it once, twice, three times. The veins in his forearm throb. When he releases himself, pre-cum glistens the tip as it stares me in the face.
“Lick it,” Cassius commands, and there can be no mistaking the moisture between my legs or the fire building inside me. I don’t consider myself inexperienced, but I wonder if it’s possible for Cassius to make me come with just his voice. I wouldn’t be against testing that theory and I want to say so, but his eyebrows raise in a silent challenge, and I turn my head away from him.
His hands grab either side of my head, forcing me back to center. He releases my head and wraps one hand around my braid, pulling it tight. Gaining control.
“I said, lick it,” Cassius repeats. Hard consonants punctuating each word.
I grip his cock in my hand and flatten my tongue on the underside of his shaft, sliding it down to the base. I take my time getting back to the tip, grazing him with my teeth. This fucker wants to play, I’ll play.
The grip on my hair tightens. I try to pull myself off him, but he holds me in place. My eyes shift up to his. His are closed, but his jaw is clenched, his eyebrows pinched. I can’t tell if it's pleasure or anger. Before I can contemplate that longer, his eyes flash open.
“Look at me and do it again,” Cassius demands through gritted teeth.
I hold my eyes on his. Full of hellfire, and I’m an unapologetic sinner. Again, I flatten my tongue on the underside of his dick, grazing him with my teeth on the retreat. But this time, when I get to the tip, I swirl my tongue around the head. He licks his lips and then without warning he shoves inside my mouth, forcing me to gag.
“Mmm, I love that sound,” he admits without breaking eye contact.
Fuck me.
I stroke him and suck him in tandem, working his full length. I graze him with my teeth just to see him tense. He never pulls my hair, but he uses his grip to force himself deep. Cassius buries himself in my throat. My insides quake, and my pussy aches for attention. Gripping his balls with one hand, I hollow out my cheeks and suck harder. His eyes darken and his body tenses, but he doesn’t come. I do it again. His eyes close, breaking our connection, and his jaw hardens.
“Not. Yet,” he says.
I do it again.
He pulls my mouth off his cock so fast, it makes a pop sound.
“Up,” he orders. “Get on the bed. Now.”
When I stand, my legs feel wobbly, weak with desire. I sit on the edge of the bed waiting to be told what to do and I would do almost anything for him to touch me right now. But he doesn’t say anything. He twirls a finger in the air, his face stone. I flip over onto my knees with my back to him. In one swift movement, he’s pulled two pillows beneath my hips and pushed my face to the mattress. He holds my wrists at the base of my back, his grip tight.
He slides a finger through my folds, and I bite the inside of my cheek trying to hold back a moan but fail. Cassius touches me again. This time, when he gets to my clit, he teases it. Small, light flicks. My body squirms beneath him. I need more. Faster. Harder.
Give me more, Cassius.
“Looks like my queen likes being told what to do.” his finger rubs quickly but gently, and my knees try to close of their own accord. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” His voice is low, seducing me with every word. My back arches, lifting my ass closer to him, inviting him to push me harder, give me more. The bed envelopes my face and my shoulders, and I have to adjust myself to breathe.
Cassius removes his hand from my clit and replaces it with his cock, gliding along my folds, but never giving me the release I need. He pushes his fingers between my lips, forcing me to taste myself, while at the same time shifting the blankets away from my nose and mouth.
Moans fill the air and for a second, I wonder where they’re coming from. But it’s me. I’m moaning around his fingers while his hard cock slides between my ass cheeks.
“If you don’t stop with the noises, I’m going to come a lot faster than I planned,” he says quietly and pulls his fingers from my mouth.
“We can’t have that,” I tell him, a smile on my face.
“No. We can’t,” he replies. “One day soon I’m gonna take this ass, baby, but today is not that day.” His voice has dropped again, the gravelly tone even more commanding. “I’m going to release your hands. You will not move them. Understand?”
My shoulders ache but as much as I want to move them, and I do, because I want to know what would come after, I give in to him. “Yes.”
He releases my wrists and true to my word I don’t move, but when he pulls away from me, the emptiness creeps in. It threatens me, wrapping itself around my heart. It’s barbed wire and it hurts, digging into a heart whose beat was starting to mean something. It’s not clean, it’s messy, and I can’t move. I can’t pull away with the jagged barbs holding me prisoner.
There’s rustling behind me, and then fingers caress my spine, dragging down my body and wrapping around my wrists.
“Cassius.” His name is a whimper. A plea. To hold me or to let me go?
Please don’t let me go.
He drives his cock into me without warning. My heart swells, and even though the barbs dig deeper, the wire snaps, leaving me with scars. But scars fade, and hearts beat. And mine beats for him. For me. For this.
He pounds into me hard, my shoulders still aching from their position, but I don’t care. His available hand snakes under my stomach, brushing against my clit. I moan in appreciation, and his fingers rub gently, skillfully.
When he finds the spot, I cry out, “Yes! Yes, Cassius!” He circles it quicker, flicks it harder, the river swells, the dam breaks and we’re both swimming in my pleasure.
Cassius releases my wrists and grabs my hips, pulling me up slightly. He pushes and pulls me, chasing his own release. I shift my arms underneath me and push myself up. Cassius wraps what’s left of my braid around his hand and pulls my head back, forcing my hips down.
His speed increases, and he fucks me, losing all control. My pussy clenches around his cock, desperate to give him what he needs.
When he finally comes, it’s with a primal yell.
And at this moment, I know I’ll never be the same.