132: Braver Than You Should Be

132: Braver Than You Should Be
RUE

His chest rumbled under my arm as he let out a low laugh muffled by the black mask. Instead of fighting, he lifted one large hand and cupped my face, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my mouth.

My heart betrayed me, pounding harder and sending heat straight through my veins. No man had ever made me feel like this.

I tilted my chin defiantly, keeping my smirk hot. "Careful, Trouble. Hands on me come with consequences."

He didn't answer. He simply lifted his hands, showing me he wasn't armed, before flicking his fingers towards the mask. A dare.

"Oh, you want me to?" My voice dripped with mock sweetness as I reached up. "Fine."

The mask peeled away easily. At that same moment, a gust of wind cut through the alley, tugging his hood back. My breath caught at the sight of him.

His hair was long, thick, and dark, tumbling over his shoulders with reckless ease. His face...damn. Symmetry sharp enough to cause traffic, a beauty so devastating it almost hurt to look at him. The kind of face carved for sin.

And then the details. His left eye was metallic, false, a perfect prosthetic gleaming under the dim light. The right one, however, locked on mine, alive and burning with something between hunger and madness.

"You're prettier than you should be," I teased to hide the thrum of excitement in my blood.

"And you're braver than you should be," he shot back, his voice a dark velvet. It coiled around my spine and sank in deep.

I smirked wider, leaning just close enough that my breath brushed his jaw. "Guess we're both guilty, then."

That's when it happened. Quick as lightning, he flipped us, slamming me into the wall, his body caging mine in a way that should've made me fight. But I didn't. I let him. My hands didn't push. They gripped his hoodie, pulling him closer.

Heat sparked where his body pressed against mine, my pulse rioting. He gently brushed a curl away, his face just inches from mine.

"You could've killed me," he murmured, his lips brushing close enough to make me ache.

"Could've," I whispered back, fire licking through my bloodstream. "Didn't."

Our mouths hovered, our breath tangling. The air between us vibrated with the kind of tension that was almost unbearable.

I didn't think. I kissed him. Hard.

He groaned against my lips, deep and hungry, then he took over. His mouth claimed mine, tasting me, drinking me in. My knees nearly buckled, but I refused to give him that satisfaction.

Still, when his hand slid from my wrist to my jaw, tilting me up to him, I knew I was already losing. And fuck me, I wanted to.

His mouth devoured mine, his teeth scraping my flesh. His tongue was professional. It made my lungs burn, my skin buzzing as every part of me lit up like a freaking Christmas tree.

When he finally broke away, his lips were swollen, his smile sinfully slow.

"Do you make a habit of kissing your stalkers?" he teased, his voice rough from the kiss.

I smirked, dragging my thumb across his lower lip. "No. But I've fantasized about it for months."

His eye flashed with something hungry. "So you want to take this somewhere else?"

"Oh, I do." My grin sharpened.

Before he could react, I slipped my hand between us, yanking my dagger from my waistband. I lined the edge with his spine, and he let out a low chuckle.

"Damn," he rasped, his breath hot against my cheek, "you're more fun than I thought."

"Try anything stupid," I purred, leaning into him so he felt the press of the metal deeper, "and you die."

Without waiting for a response, I shoved him forward, controlling the situation again. He didn't resist.

In fact, he seemed entertained. His grin stayed feral as I marched him towards the car.

"Drive," I ordered once I shoved him into the driver's seat.

He didn't hesitate. His long fingers curled around the wheel, and he turned the ignition with an infuriating calmness.

I slid into the passenger seat, still holding my weapon steady.

"Where?" he asked smoothly.

I bit my lower lip, leaning back, "Hotel. The nearest one."

The corner of his mouth quirked, and a dark thrill unfolded in my belly.

....

The car ride was a blur of reckless turns and low, dangerous chuckles. By the time we slid into the hotel's parking lot, my pulse was already pounding in my throat.

"Out," I ordered, pressing the dagger lightly into his side as I slipped out with him.

He smirked in a way that suggested that he was enjoying every second of it.

Inside, the lobby's golden light made everything look deceptively elegant. I leaned closer, my lips curving into the sweetest smile for the receptionist. The dagger was hidden perfectly beneath my coat, still trained on his ribs.

"I’d like to get one room," I said, my voice sugary sweet. "For my husband and I."

The receptionist glanced between us and quickly handed over the keycard. She’d clearly noticed the tension.

"Of course. Enjoy your stay, Mrs..."

"Trouble," I cut in, winking. "Mrs. Trouble."

He actually laughed under his breath. I shoved him forward before anyone noticed.

The second the door closed behind us upstairs, the mask dropped. He spun, pinning me against the door, and his mouth crashed onto mine.

The kiss was brutal and desperate, his teeth grazing my lower lip as though he wanted to taste all of me.

My weapon stayed in my hand, pressed tight against his side, even as my free hand clawed into his hoodie. He yanked it off in one swift motion, tossing it aside.

My breathing quickened. Black ink curled across his arms and neck, tattoos coiling over muscles that strained beneath his fitted shirt. Perfection. That’s what he was.

"Holy fuck," I whispered, dragging my eyes over him.

He grinned wickedly. "Like what you see, my Ruin?"

Before I could sass back, he crashed into me again. His hand slid under my short skirt, his rough fingers skimming up the inside of my thigh until I was shaking.

I pressed the steel harder into him. "Don't think for a second that you're in control."

His prosthetic eye caught the light as he bent close, his lips brushing mine. "Then stab me."

My breath stalled. And then he ripped the weapon from my grasp, tossed it across the room, and flipped me onto the bed. His body pinned me, his thigh wedging between my legs, grinding until heat flooded me.

I arched against him, a moan tearing from my throat before I could stop it. His smile was feral.

"Months of watching me... wanting me... and now you're soaked for me already." His hand shoved my panties aside, his fingers sliding slick over my swollen clit. I gasped, clenching around nothing, desperate for more.

"Fuck you," I panted, my nails clawing his shirt.

"You will," he growled, ripping off his shirt. And then he shoved two fingers deep inside me, hard, making my back bow off the sheets.

I bit his shoulder, muffling a scream, and he laughed darkly. "Good girl. Bite me again."

I did. Hard. His hips jerked against me, his cock straining through his jeans.

I tugged at his belt, frantic, needing him. He caught my wrists again, pinning them above my head with one hand while the other kept fucking me deep and fast. I thrashed under him, dripping and desperate.

"Say it," he demanded, his lips grazing my ear. "Say you want me to ruin you."

"Ruin me," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Ruin me, Trouble."

His growl vibrated through me. He freed himself, his thick length pressing at my entrance until I was trembling.

And then he slammed into me.

My vision blurred, and I screamed, my nails dragging down his inked arms as he filled me, stretching me. He drove me into the mattress with relentless thrusts, his hair falling into his face.

"Fuck, so tight," he snarled, rolling his hips, each movement rougher and deeper. "You were made for this cock."

"Don't stop," I begged, locking my legs around him, dragging him deeper.

He didn't. He wrecked me. His mouth devoured my neck, his hand fisted in my hair, and his thrusts pounded me into oblivion.

The dagger lay forgotten across the room.

And when I came, it was violent. My scream tore through the room, my body convulsing as he fucked me through it, his teeth biting into my shoulder.

His rhythm turned brutal, until he groaned, spilling deep inside me.

We collapsed, panting and shaking.

"Mine," he rasped, and a smile tugged at my lips as I leaned up to kiss him again. I needed more.

...

Sunlight slanted through the blinds, warm on my skin, and I groaned, stretching like a cat. Every muscle ached in the best way possible, proof that last night hadn't been a dream.

I rolled onto my side, expecting the familiar weight of Trouble beside me. But all that greeted me were empty sheets. My lips curved into a smug little smile. The clever bastard had vanished before sunrise.

The sudden shrill of my phone ripped through the room. Ugh. Annoyed, I fumbled for it.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice thick with sleep.

"Rue! Where the hell are you?" Gio's frantic voice blared through the line. I groaned, already regretting picking up.

"None of your business," I muttered, trying to sound casual while stretching my sore limbs.

"Rue, you better get your ass home now, or Dad's going to have a heart attack!"

I sat up, arching a brow. "Whoa, calm down. Did you just wake up, or did someone spike your coffee with adrenaline?"

"This isn't funny!" Gio barked. "Some man showed up at the house. He says he wants to marry you! Dad's flipping out. You need to get back before this turns into a full-scale crisis."

My jaw dropped, my eyes widening.

Someone wants to marry...me?