Ruin The Waking

Ruin: The Waking - Lucian Bane





“Thank you.” He went in and she worried about what it would do to her, seeing him in those shorts. Oh but she found out when he walked out. “My God,” she whispered. Of course he wouldn’t look stupid, of course he’d look wickedly delicious in them. But then at what angle did he not look wickedly delicious? It was bad enough seeing him in those too snug black slacks, now these too snug black shorts put the final glaze on her whore tinted glasses.

The idea of getting too close to him was suddenly a bad idea. Her body could not be trusted. She prayed silently that he wouldn’t pick up on her body’s—

“It amazes me how you react to my body.”

Shiiiiit. “I’m a woman, it’s purely normal, but don’t worry, I won’t touch you or attack you.”

He chuckled, like he thought the idea was cute. “I know.”

Ohhhh, do you now? She turned to him. “You say that like you really know.” She realized her big confrontation mistake the second she faced him. There he was, leaning his butt against the counter, pants in his right grip, left hand planted on the counter top. Legs crossed. Enormous penis still…enormous.

She fought to think medically. “I see your man parts work.”

He looked down. “I’m not sure. I do know it’s been hard a lot more lately.”

His honesty was as brutal as that green gaze of his. “Must be reflex.” She wondered if he’d make the connection. She stared at his torso, suddenly desperate to inspect his tattoos. Up close. With her tongue and lips, heaven help her.

“But I’m not touching it. It’s just like that.”

“Well neither was I when it happened to me.”

God, did he have to look at her so directly? “Right. So I don’t understand why you touch yours at night, if you don’t need to for it to work?”

Shock and shame slammed her. Then anger that he’d watched! Her anger turned to fury at seeing the look on his face. He was goading her! He knew what he’d just done and said which far surpassed his dictionary skills, no, that was playing skills.

She felt her head nodding absently. She wasn’t sure how he knew that game given his lack of “knowledge” but she wasn’t about to be played or ridiculed by him or intimidated. “I’m sure you know that’s called masturbation. I do it to have an orgasm, I’m sure you recall that word as well. It’s a very normal and healthy exercise.”

He slid his tongue across his lower lip and cast his eyes down, like a tease! And it was working on the little lonely swamp slut! The idea of hiding it was infuriating because it was seemingly impossible. To be so pushed around really pissed her off. Truly.

She pursed her lips, fighting for words that would even the score just a little. There was no insulting the man, that’s for sure. And humiliating him seemed impossible. How about calling his bluff? “You should try it.”

He looked at her. “Try what?”

She placed a casual palm on the front of the fridge. “Rubbing your dick.” Her heart hammered at the effect that had on him.

“I’m healthy enough.”

“Well it’s not just for health. It feels very good.” Way, way down the rabbit hole now. No turning back.

“Pleasure isn’t something I pursue.”
“Yes, it can be intimidating.”
“I’m not intimidated.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “It’s not necessary.”
“What am I doing?”
“Trying to upset me somehow, the way I’ve upset you. I find it…sweet? But it’s not going to happen. I don’t seem to need pleasure the way you do.”

He said it oh so nonchalantly and clearly did not see the barb in the words he twisted in her already wounded ego. She wanted to scream bullshit on his claim again but no way would she do that. With words.
Inhibitions obliterated by her anger, she walked over. Pausing just before him, she even met his cool green gaze. She lowered her eyes to his manhood, her heart pounding furiously, and ran the tip of her finger along his rock hard length.

He hissed and snatched her hand up in a brutal hold and the eruption of pain triggered terror in her.

She was suddenly pinned against the wall, his fingers burning hot and lethal around her throat. Again. His gasps hit her face, filling her lungs with more of that choking heat, mixed with the painful shards of the cold. She stared with wide eyes as he strangled her, the dejavu of it helping her to harden her jaw and draw on anger.

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