Rinkside Ruin

2.TASTE OF RUIN

ROWAN KAINE’S POV

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She smiles like a sin that I want to commit and stands too.

She finishes the last of her wine before setting her glass down with elegant finality.

We head to the elevators side by side, walking a little too close, breathing the same thick air.

There’s people around us, but they fade into background noise. Just white noise against the static crackling between our bodies.

The second the elevator dings open, we spill out fast walking down the hall like we’re racing toward the edge of a cliff.

At my room door, I fumble with the key card, hands shaking just enough to make her smirk.

“You nervous, Kaine?” she teases. Her voice is all dark velvet, low and cocky.

“Nervous?” I laugh, low and sharp. “Just trying not to drop dead from anticipation.”

The lock finally clicks. I swing the door open and let her in, heart pounding like a puck ricocheting inside my ribcage. I close the door behind us and take a beat. My palm still on the cool wood. Trying to get my s**t together before I lose it completely.

“You know,” I say as I face her, voice low, rough with everything I’ve been holding back, “I’ve been thinking about this since you walked in.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step back, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress, fingers trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “About what?” she asks softly, but there’s a feel in it that makes my blood roar.

“About how your skin will feel under my touch, how your body will respond to mine,” I say, stepping closer, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw, feeling her shiver under my touch.

Her skin is warm, soft, and I can smell the bergamot and sandalwood of her perfume, filling my lungs, driving me wild.

“You’re playing with fire, Rowan,” she warns, her voice steady despite the desire burning in her eyes.

“Wrong,” I whisper, my breath grazing her skin. “You’re not fire.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, feel her breath catch. “You’re a f*****g storm. And I can’t wait to get caught in it.”

My hand moves to her neck, fingers wrapping around her, feeling the rapid pulse of her heartbeat against my palm, and I know I’m already lost.

I’ve got her pinned to the wall before she can so much as breathe, my mouth crashing into hers like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment and I’m done being patient.

She tastes like strawberries, her lips soft, open, hungry, reckless. She bites my bottom lip and it lights me the f**k up.

My tongue delves deep, tasting the sweet tang of wine and the heat of her, and I groan into her mouth, the sound swallowed by her own soft moan.

My hands roam greedily without hesitation. The ice has taught me precision, force, aggression, victory. I don’t make love. I dominate.

I fist the silky fabric of her dress, yanking it up over her thighs until I’ve got both hands full of her arse, and f**k, she’s not wearing anything underneath. A guttural groan rips out of me.

“Jesus f*****g Christ, you really came out like this?” I rasp, breath hot against her throat as I drag my mouth down, biting along her jaw, feeling her pulse jump under my lips.

“Maybe I was hoping to get lucky,” she shoots back, her voice dark and laced with lust, her fingers tugging at my hair, sending sharp sparks down my spine.

I f*****g love her attitude.

My hands spread her thighs, and I lift her effortlessly, grinding her against the thick bulge straining behind my zipper.

She wraps her legs around me like it’s second nature, her nails clawing at my hair as I suck on the delicate skin just below her ear. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through me, her hips moving in rhythm with mine, her body responding like it was made for this.

“You’re already lucky,” I growl, dragging my c**k along her bare slit through my pants, feeling the warmth of her soaking my clothes. “You’re about to get wrecked, sweetheart.”

Her breathless laugh is wicked. “Prove it, hockey boy.”

Oh, she’s playing with fire.

I carry her across the room and drop her onto the bed, looming over her as I peel off my shirt. She watches, licking her lips like she can’t decide if she wants to bite me or blow me first.

“Take it off,” I order, my voice rough. She arches a brow, but there’s a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. Slowly, teasingly, she sits up, sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders, revealing smooth, bare skin, inch by torturous inch. I can’t stop staring. Her t**s are perfect, full, soft, topped with tight, dusky n*****s begging for my mouth.

But it’s the glint of her navel piercing that makes my c**k throb violently in my jeans.

And then, holy f**k.

Right below her belly button, tucked in just above that perfect, smooth little mound are tiny, delicate black wings.

Damn woman has a butterfly, inked right at the curve of her pubic bone. I can already tell I’m gonna jack off to the memory of it. Repeatedly. Pathetically. I damn near lose my f*****g mind.

“That’s gonna drive me insane,” I mutter, yanking my belt open and shoving my jeans down in a frenzy.

She smirks, spreading her legs wide, cocky as hell. “Then you’d better get acquainted with it.”

Oh, I f*****g will.

I dive between her thighs without another word. My mouth lands on that tattoo first, my tongue tracing the lines like I’m trying to carve her into my memory. The ink is smooth, warm under my lips, and I know I’m already f****d, there’s no way I’m walking away from this without a permanent fixation.

My tongue glides higher, catching her navel ring, the cold metal shocking against the warmth of her skin, and I bite it, just to feel her jolt under me.

She gasps, hips twitching up, and I grin against her skin. “Sensitive little thing,” I murmur, dragging my mouth lower until I’m buried in her, licking lower, groaning into her soaked skin as I finally taste her.

She’s sweet, slippery, warm, the absolute taste of sin, and I can’t get enough. She doesn’t even know it, but she’s got me wrapped up already. One taste and I’m f*****g wrecked.

The room is thick with everything intoxicating, her perfume mixing with sweat and s*x, that lush, dizzying scent wrapping around me with every breath I drag through my nose as I ravage her.

I devour her p***y like I’m starving, licking deep, sucking hard, dragging my tongue over every sensitive spot until her thighs start shaking around my head.

“f**k, Rowan,” her voice is strained, breathy and desperate, but I’m not stopping until she’s cumming on my face.

I slip two fingers inside her, curling them perfectly to stroke that spot that makes her whimper, and when I latch my mouth around her c**t, flicking my tongue mercilessly, she f*****g shatters.

She comes hard, thighs clenching, hips grinding against my face, and I lap up every drop like it’s the first sip of water after a week in the desert.

But I’m nowhere near done. I sit up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, staring down at her flushed, wrecked body sprawled out under me, her chest heaving, n*****s tight, that butterfly tattoo glistening from my mouth on her skin. I’m going to memorize every inch of her.

My hand moves to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the curve of her body against mine, the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.

I lean in, my lips brushing hers in a soft, teasing kiss that leaves us both breathless, her heart racing under my palm, her breath hitching as my hand slides lower, tracing the line of her hip.

Her n*****s harden against my chest, and I can feel the desire in her eyes, mirroring my own. I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring her mouth, tasting her sweetness, and she moans softly, her hands moving to my chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath her touch.

“You’re mine,” I murmur against her lips, my voice hoarse with desire. “Say it, Butterfly.”

She gasps, her body arching into mine. “I’m yours,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

I quickly reach for the packet of condoms on my nightstand — because I always play safe — and drag my c**k along her soaked slit, teasing her, watching her squirm. “You ready to get f****d properly?” I ask, voice low and ragged.

“Don’t,” she pants, eyeing the condom in my hand. “I’m clean. I want to feel you.”

I stop cold.

Her eyes lock on mine, steady. No fear. No hesitation.

She trusts me.

And f**k, that does something to me.

My chest tightens.

We get tested before every game. I know I’m clean, too.

So I drop the condom. And give her exactly what she asked for.

I line myself up and slide in with one hard thrust.

She gasps sharply but lifts her hips, greedily taking every inch of me like she wants me buried to the hilt.

I grip her hips hard enough to leave bruises and start pounding into her, no mercy, nothing soft or gentle, just raw, ruthless f*****g as the queen asked. The slap of skin against skin fills the room, her breathy moans pushing me harder, deeper, faster.

“Look at you,” I grit out, watching the way her t**s bounce with every thrust, her fingers digging deep into the sheets like she’s hanging on by a thread. “Taking it like such a good f*****g girl.”

“Good girl?” she breathes, looking back at me over her shoulder, eyes wicked and blown wide. “You think you’re in charge right now, Kaine?”

“Oh, I know I am,” I say, slamming harder.

“Then prove it, Captain,” she bites out, her nails rake down my arms, scratching on the ink that snakes over my skin, sharp little reminders that she’s marking me just as much as I’m marking her.

Good. Let her scratch deep. I want to feel it tomorrow.

I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her hips up, and slam back inside her from behind, thrusting so deep I feel her whole body tense under me.

Her back bows, hands fisting the sheets. She cries out my name, but it’s a desperate, needy sound, and I can’t stop myself from leaning over, biting her shoulder as I drive into her again and again.

My hand snakes around her front, finding her c**t, and I rub tight, brutal circles, determined to make her come again.

“Gonna come again for me, butterfly?” I hiss against her ear, obsessed with that little tattoo now pressed into the mattress.

She nods frantically, whimpering amidst moans. “f**k, yes, don’t stop.”

I don’t. I f**k her through it, not stopping even when she shudders violently, crying out my name as she comes again, harder than before, her walls clenching around my c**k I almost lose it.

I lean down, my teeth grazing her collarbone, the hardness of my body pressing against her soft skin, and I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. “You’re playing with fire, Mara,” I warn, my voice hoarse with desire. “And I’m not the kind of man who lets a woman play with fire and walk away unscathed.”

She smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m not afraid of a little scald, Rowan. Besides, I thought you were the one who likes to be in control.”

I chuckle, my hands gripping her hips tighter, feeling the softness of her skin under my calloused fingers. “Oh, I am. But right now, I’m in control of my desire, and you’re the one who’s made it impossible for me to resist.”

She laughs, a sound filled with pure, unadulterated lust. “Then don’t. Let go, Rowan. Let me see the real you.”

I lean down, my mouth finding hers in a searing kiss, my tongue delving deep, tasting the sweetness of her, the sweetness that drives me wild. “You’ve already seen the real me, butterfly,” I mutter against her lips. “And now, it’s your turn to be consumed by it.”

That’s all it takes.

With a deep, savage growl, I slam into her one last time.

And when I come, it’s with her name in my throat and my heart thundering like it’s game seven in overtime.

We collapse together, breathless and tangled in each other.

And for once, I don’t feel like moving.

Her head turns, cheek pressed to my bicep. “So... do you always f**k like that on a first date?”

I snort. “This a date?”

“Well,” she purrs, glancing down at her tattoo, that little glint in her navel flashing like a dare, “I think you’re properly acquainted now.”

I grin, but there’s a razor edge to it, chest still heaving. “Oh, sweetheart,” I rasp, l

eaning down to bite her throat again, “that’s not the kind of thing I get acquainted with.” I drag my teeth over her skin, low and slow. “That’s the kind of thing I get addicted to.”