Page 55 of Unlocking Ruin

“Are you rushing me?” he gloats as he keeps his fingers just outside the area I want them most. “Maybe I should punish you instead.”

As I squeeze my thighs together, he feels the movement and moans. “You like that.”

I bite my lip and nod.

His index finger slides smoothly into my wetness. A deep, needy breath escapes me as I yield to him.

“That’s it, up a little, yes. Yes! Right there. That feels so good,” I tell him. His fingers press perfectly against my aching flesh.

“Look how much you want this.” He swirls his fingers around, then thrusts them inside. My fingers curl against the glass. “Next time, I want your nails digging into me, Rylan.”

“I can’t breathe when your this close. I’ve never been this aroused,” I tell him, feeling the need to reward him. “All those times before were just… oh!” He presses his finger deeper, rubbing me faster.

My eyes flutter as I try to see him in the reflection. Pushing off the pane, I gasp, needing more. I want to turn and face him. I want him deeper. He traps me, only allowing me a taste of him. Frustrated, I pull down my sweatpants, allowing him easier access.

“Brace the window,” he orders me. He pushes another finger into me while his boot pushes my legs further apart. The friction on the inside of his palm is sinfully intense as it grinds against my folds.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about this? In reality, you are more amazing than I ever fantasized about.” His left hand travels up my body, eventually trapping my jaw. He angles my head so he can kiss me from behind.

I’ve never done anything so exhilarating, and if I were to die now, I’d at least have experienced complete ecstasy.

My lips part as his tongue claims my mouth, tasting. There is no question who is in control. It’s him—my body is his to use.

“Is this the escape you wanted, Rylan? Riding my fingers until you come?”

I nod frantically.

“What if this island has no return? What if I keep you trapped on it? Just me and you.” He doesn’t let me reply. He kisses me with an urgent passion, his touch becoming more frantic as I attempt to press myself against him. His grip on me against the window is so strong that my movement is severely restricted.

“It’s not enough, Steffen. This isn’t an escape; it’s torture. Let me come,” I moan. I need more of him. All of him. In an incoherent tone, I plead for more.

“Because I caught you, I have you, and I’m going to take my time enjoying every inch of you. Slowly. Daily. Hourly. I’m yours to use, so use me, yes just like that. You’re clenching my fingers so tight, good girl.”

It’s already too much, my senses swimming as Steffen’s voice growls in my ear. “Here’s a reward, Little Thief.” He pushes into me knuckle-deep. I can’t keep up. My pleasure intensifies, causing my head to tilt back. My breath mists the glass, blurring the line between dream and waking life.

His fingers press and grip deeply inside me, as if taking a part of my soul. He praises me, “Perfect, Rylan. That’s it, let go.”

I’m close, so close, but⁠—

“Stop thinking about right and wrong. You’re a hacker.”

“But you are⁠—”

“The man who is going to make you come on my fingers.” He bends down and bites my neck hard enough to leave a mark. “And deep down, we both know no one else has made you come this hard, this fast,” he declares with a smirk of such utter satisfaction, I can see it reflected in the huge window.

His breath becomes as labored as mine, as if we were one. “Stop thinking and do it. Right now, Little Thief, come. Take it. That’s it, keep moving your hips just like that. Steal it from me.”

“Steffen!” I shout, as I explode. My fist pounds the glass.

Despite my body clenching around his fingers, he keeps pounding into me. As I fall limp, caught between the glass and his hard body, wetness slides down my thighs. His hand moves more slowly, yet his fingers remain in a comfortable position inside me.

“That was your first mistake, Rylan.”

“What?” I blink, trying to clear the post-orgasm haze.

“You said my name.” He grins, moving with a deliberate, drawn-out pace, as if he were trying to work my body into a frenzy again, then slowly pulls his fingers out of me.

As he steps back, my knees are forced to bear my weight. Coldness replaces his fingers. He turns me, then dips his finger, now wet from me, into his mouth. A wide smirk spreads across his face as he licks his finger.