Ruin:Part One

Ruin:Part One By Deborah Bladon


Chapter 1




"I keep a room at a hotel in mid-town. We can go there."

The words are decisive and seductive. The subtle hum of his voice catering to the need that is inside of me. The same need that drove me away from Boston and back into the uneven clutches of Manhattan.

I glance at my watch. Fifty-nine minutes. It's been fifty-nine minutes since he sat next to me on this flight. Thirty-one minutes since he told me he's always been attracted to brunettes. Twenty-five minutes since I knew that having his cock inside of me would chase away all the deepest memories of the man I left behind.

"I have a driver meeting me." The assumption is there. He's moved effortlessly from asking if I'm interested to expecting it. He knows how utterly attractive he is. The eager glances of the flight attendant who tried to divert his attention from me spoke of the pull that is there within him, whether he's consciously sending out signals or not.

I nod. It's not unlike me. He's not the first man I've slept with within moments of meeting. It's always filled a temporary hunger. This time is different though. This time I'm doing it to numb the ache.

"I'm Ben, by the way." He extends his hand in a graceful, yet misplaced, greeting.

I reach for it, entrusting my own in his. "I'm Kayla."

"Pretty," he says.

I take the compliment along with the gentle touch. He won't be like this in bed. I can sense it already. There's a darkness behind his eyes that promises skill, pleasure and a bite of flashing pain. It's everything I need all wrapped into a six foot four inch, muscular, brown haired, brown eyed stranger.

"Is anyone expecting you?"

My eyes flit across his face pulling nothing from his stoic expression. He's asking if there's a complication waiting for me when the plane touches down at LaGuardia. There's nothing waiting for me here. No one knows that I've run from my life in Boston. I haven't told a soul that the man I loved left me beneath the shadow of an excuse about chasing his own happiness. He'd changed overnight. The once beautiful, confident soul that held me in his arms and promised me a lifetime has been replaced with a cold, distant selfish *.

"No," I whisper the word as if that will lessen the pain that is attached to it. "There's no one."

"I need to make a few calls once we land." His hand dives into an inner pocket of his Armani suit jacket to retrieve his smart phone. "I'll do that while you grab your luggage."

I pull my hands over the smooth denim of my worn jeans. I look ordinary next to him. I'll disappear into the crowds of the airport the moment we depart from the plane. He'll command the attention of many. He wants that. It's part of who he is.

"I don't have any checked bags," I begin before I realize the words sound comfortable and intimate in a way that I don't want them to. "I'll wait outside for you."

He flashes a grin. "You won't run away on me?"

I'm not Parker. Parker, my piece of shit boyfriend, ran away on me. He told me he loved me. He promised me forever and then he ran away.

"I promise I won't." I exhale. "I'll be right there waiting for you."



***



"Your cunt is as beautiful as the rest of you." His breath whispers over my folds before his tongue pierces into me again.

I lean back into the coarse linens that line the bed, throwing my head back. "Make me come again."

He laps at me, his fingers probing my inner walls before he hones in on the spot that he knows will throw me into the middle of another powerful orgasm. My hands reach for his hair. I wind my fingers into the strands, reveling in the softness. I twist his head sharply to the left coaxing his tongue back to my clit. I'm not going to be shy. There's no reason not to take everything I can from this. He's eager to please. I'm eager to come.

"Christ, you're a tight one."

The words only spur me on more. This is exactly what I need. "Lick my clit," I bite out through a moan. "Lick my f*cking clit."

He cups his hands beneath my legs pulling them farther apart before they seek out my breasts. He pinches both nipples in unison as his tongue greedily steals another climax from me.

I scream, not only from the intense pleasure that is racing through each part of me, but from the freedom to feel this deeply. I cling to his hair as he moans into me, lapping greedily at my lust.

"I'm so hard. I have to f*ck you." The words aren't tempered. They escape him in a growl that is primitive and speaks of his need to own my body.

I watch as he sheaths his thick cock in a condom, his hand racing over the length not once, but twice. I whimper knowing that it's going to throw me back into an orgasm quickly. I've been imagining it since he lowered himself into the seat next to me on the airplane. I've been thinking about how it will feel since I watched him slowly undress when we got to the room. I've been craving it since his erection brushed against my * before he lowered his face to my core.

His mouth covers mine as he edges the tip of his dick over my clit. His lips are smooth, soft and gentle. His tongue glides onto mine as he thrusts his cock into me in one fluid, lust filled violent movement. His rhythm is smooth, confident and controlled.

"Yes," I mutter beneath my breath and into his mouth because my body offers no other choice. I need to express it. I need to feel it.