Page 85 of River & Rue

Debasing me adoringly.

It’s an exchange of filthy worship, so sacred I want to weep.

His cock firms even more, his breath stuttering. “My Ruin,” he whispers. “Swallow every drop for me.”

I suck in a final breath before his hips drive forward once, twice, three more times. He comes with my name on his lips, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His cock throbs and cum erupts—everywhere. Beneath my tongue. Down my throat. Between and around my damn teeth.

It’s… a lot. Way more than I’m capable of handling. My eyes water as I struggle. I try to hold on, but my body overrules me, and I choke so hard a muscle in my back cramps. The accompanying, tragic sound effect causes River to pull from my mouth so fast my teeth catch his piercing. I wince on his behalf, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he falls to his knees beside me.

Shaking hands frame my face, his own etched with distress.

“Shit, Rue, I’m⁠—”

I pinch his lips closed, grimacing as I swallow one last time.

“Shut up,” I rasp, chuckling hoarsely. “I’m fine, just unused to having my esophagus fondled by a giant cock and a gallon of baby gravy.”

The sound he makes bridges hilarity and horror. He all but collapses against me, his forehead falling to my shoulder. “I should have been paying more attention. I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’ll hurt your feelings.”

His laugh is rough. Too rough.

“Hey.”

I poke his chest, but he doesn’t respond. He’s breathing fast, fine tremors moving up and down his frame. Needing to see his face, I grab a handful of thick hair at the back of his neck and tug gently until he lifts his head. He quickly swipes a forearm across his downcast eyes.

I scramble to my feet. He stays kneeling—head bowed, arms loose at his sides, chest heaving. A wild god defeated.

Unacceptable.

“River. Look at me.”

I palm his cheek, and he finally lifts his gaze. My chest deflates as my suspicion is confirmed.

“You’re crying,” I whisper. “Why? You didn’t hurt me. I promise.”

He closes his eyes, another tear slipping through thick lashes. “Just overwhelmed, sorry. That was…” He trails off, shaking his head.

I catch his tear with my thumb and step forward, gently drawing his head to my chest. With a sigh reminiscent of pressure releasing, he wraps his arms tightly around my waist.

We stay like that for minutes. Maybe hours. Possibly an eternity. And by the time he stands, lifting me as he does, I understand the cost of my choice.

I’m never recovering from this.

30

river

​. . .​

crossed lines

Rue falls asleep before I reach my front door. By the time I lay her down in her own bed, she’s dead weight and dreaming. I watch her sleep, imagining myself a guard against bad dreams, until the night is deep and even the crickets sleep.

I don’t want to leave her, but I’m scared of what might happen if I stay, of what I might see in her eyes when she wakes.

Gooseflesh ripples over my naked body as I step outside. I press the push-button lock on her doorknob so it secures behind me, then shut the door quietly.