The Girl and Her Ren (The Ribbon Duet 2)

Love melted my soul with the shock in his eyes that he’d finally seen.

“Ribbon…” His gaze glittered as he blinked in disbelief. Disbelief that it had taken him two years of being together to finally snap and admit to himself.

“I-I don’t care anymore.” He smiled with sharp teeth and sharper joy. “I don’t care what people think. I don’t care if they judge. I.” Thrust. “Don’t.” Thrust. “Care.”

“Finally.” I laughed as he suckled my neck, driving into me again and again. His lips were poisonous and his tongue venomous, slowly killing me as I scratched him, marked him, begging him to treat me worse.

And he did.

We raged and fucked and claimed.

A battle.

A war.

Love at its rawest.

And it was right.

Unbelievably right.

Threading my fingers in his hair, I moaned, “It’s always been you, Ren. It will always be you.” My oath triggered the rest of his undoing, and whatever gates he kept locked blew wide apart.

“You’re mine.” He growled.

“I know.”

“And I’m yours.”

“I know.”

“Fuck.” His breathing turned to heavy grunts, a cough rattling just once as he rode me faster, climbing higher, driving and demanding.

Our kisses were messy and out of control.

Our hands heavy and greedy to touch.

His lips bruised mine, injecting need and desire into my blood until I shivered uncontrollably.

His body hardened inside me until he groaned in pleasure-pain.

He thrust faster.

On and on, affirmation after affirmation, love after love.

And when he pressed his fingers to my clit and rubbed in perfect rhythm to his thrusts, I was no longer fighting but sprinting toward the promise only he could give.

My body spun and spindled and shattered outward, rippling around his invasion, making tears prickle my eyes.

The second my orgasm finished, Ren buried his face in my hair, swallowed a howl, and drove so hard, so deep, I was sure we’d end up in the stables beyond.

“I can’t stop. I’m-I’m…” His rumbling, hungry groan tore from his throat as his body quaked in mine. He went taut, dangerous. Then his body pulsed over and over, hot splashes marking me as his, finding his release as quickly as I’d found mine.

For a long moment, neither of us moved.

Our hearts clanged like church bells.

Our limbs throbbed like pounding drums.

And then a softness replaced the madness, and Ren scattered feather kisses all over my face as we clung to each other, coming down from our addictive high.

He coughed quietly, making yet more tears swell in my eyes.

Sweet, fuzzy feelings battled with scared, timid things, and I wanted to hug him close and fight every hour, every year and stay right there, together.

Accepting another kiss, I whispered, “Ren…will you do something for me?”

He smiled, dazed and satisfied. “Anything.”

“I want you to see a doc—”

But a knock sounded on the door.

The unlocked door.

And it opened.

And Cassie walked in.

And she saw.

Everything.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

REN

* * * * * *

2020

“SHIT.” My hand flew up as if I could stop her mid-step. “Cassie. Out!”

She froze, drinking in the sight of me with my jeans around my thighs, Della sex-mauled and panting in my arms, and our semi-naked bodies joined in a way that needed no explanation.

“Holy shit.” Cassie clamped a hand over her mouth, spinning around. “What the—”

With her back turned, I winced as I disengaged from Della. Stepping back, I dropped her gently to the floor. Once she was steady, I hoisted up my jeans and tucked my still hard flesh into my jeans.

The sound of my zipper and clink of my buckle sent my cheeks blazing, made worse by Della rearranging her underwear and smoothing down her skirt.

Clothes might cover us, but they didn’t stop the raging heartbeats, tangled hair, or swollen lips of what we’d just been doing.

Of all the fucking times.

Of all the fucking places.

I felt as if I’d been skinned alive and every organ left on display. I felt butchered and broken and bruised, and it was all Della’s fault. But I also felt awed and amazed and absolutely stupefied that I hadn’t known what fears lurked inside my heart.

That I’d avoided coming to terms with what we’d done for two years, and it’d taken a stupid bedroom full of our youth to make me snap.

I hated that she’d pushed me.

But I loved her for it too, because I felt lighter than I had…in, well, ever.

I was centred and calm, and I didn’t want a fight with Cassie messing up that special connection that had sprung between Della and me. I wanted to bask in it. I wanted to forget about everyone else for a while and just love her. I needed to reassure her that I was fine and the fear she’d been nursing was completely unfounded.

Dragging shaking hands through my hair, I did my best to put myself back together.

Giving me a guilty look, Della checked me over, found I was marginally suitable for company, then said softly, “You can turn around, Cassie.”