Ruined By The Two

CALLA

“I told you not to break the rules.”

“They’re your rules, not mine.”

He turned toward me.

“You think you’re free here?”

“I’m not your prisoner.”

“You are until I say otherwise.”

I stood. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You walked out without telling anyone. We have enemies, Calla. You could’ve been taken.”

“Maybe that would’ve been better.”

He walked closer. Slowly. “You think they’d treat you better than I do?”

I said nothing.

“Fine. You want consequences?”

He nodded to the guard near the door. “Bring her to the office. She’s sitting through every meeting today.”

“What?”

“And she’ll read aloud. Every code, every name. You’ll learn what it means to be in this house.”

“You’re sick.”

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m in charge.”

The office was long.

Men sat around it, all in suits. Eyes on me.

I sat beside Damien. He handed me a thick binder.

“Start from page one.”

I opened it. Cartel names. Deals. Codewords.

My hands shook.

“Read,” he said.

I cleared my throat. “Section A. Shipment routes. Alpha 4 to Sector 12…”

My voice cracked.

Damien didn’t look at me.

He let me squirm.

My lips trembled as I read the names of people who’d probably been killed, places burned, deals made in blood.

Jace leaned against the wall in the back. Watching me. Smiling.

After the meeting, I stumbled out into the hall.

My head was spinning.

I turned a corner and slammed into someone.

Jace.

Of course.

“Easy,” he said, gripping my arms.

“Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t let go.

Instead, he slipped his fingers into my hair.

I froze.

His mouth brushed my ear.

“You really think you’re above us?” he whispered.

I swallowed hard.

“I hate you,” I said.

He smiled. “Good. That makes it more fun.”

He let go and walked off, hands in his pockets.

I stood there, heart racing.

I decided to turn around when I heard voices.

"You’re sure he’s not bluffing?" That was Damien’s voice.

I froze by the bedroom door.

Another voice answered, rough and deeper. “Silas doesn’t bluff. He wants land… or the girl.”

Silas?

I moved closer, careful not to make the floor creak.

“She's not part of any trade,” Damien said, sharp.

“You sure? He asked for her by name.”

There was a pause.

Then the sound of a glass shattering.

I jumped.

What the hell?

I backed away, heart pounding.

I couldn’t stay here.

I grabbed my backpack and stuffed in what I could. My wallet. A water bottle. The burner phone Jace hadn’t taken.

I opened the window—not locked this time.

I climbed out and dropped into the garden below. My legs stung from the landing.

I didn’t care.

I ran across the grass, toward the garage. I knew there were cars. Maybe one had keys inside. Maybe I could—

“Calla.”

I froze.

Jace.

He stood in front of the black SUV, one hand in his pocket, the other holding an apple.

He bit into it slowly, chewing like he had all the time in the world.

“I was wondering how long it’d take before you tried something stupid.”

I turned, ready to run, but he was faster.

His arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me back.

“Let go of me!”

“No.”

“Jace—”

He pushed me up against the SUV, his body pressing into mine.

“You really thought you could escape me?” he said, voice low, rough.

“Get off me!” I shoved at him, but he didn’t move.

His hand slid down to grip my thigh.

“You want to run? Fine. But tell me first—why are your thighs clenching every time I touch you?”

“I’m not—”

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“You are. You like this. You’re just too proud to admit it.”

I opened my mouth to yell, to deny it—but he slid his fingers between my legs.

Right over the seam of my jeans.

I gasped.

“Shut up,” he said. “Let your body talk.”

His fingers rubbed slow. Pressed hard. Back and forth, right there.

I clutched his jacket, my hands shaking. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his lips brushing my ear.

“N-No I’m not,” I lied.

He pushed harder.

My hips bucked without thinking.

“Keep lying, baby,” he growled. “But your pussy’s crying for me.”

“Mmmnh—ah—fuck—”

He popped my button open. My zipper came halfway down.

Then his hand slid inside. Warm fingers. Skin on skin.

“Jace—wait—”

His fingers slipped through my folds like he owned me. Two slid in deep.

I gasped. My back hit the car door.

“Still gonna pretend you don’t like this?” he growled.

I shook my head, breathless. “I—I hate you.”

“Then hate me while I make you cum.”

He curled his fingers inside me, thumb rubbing up top—right on that spot.

I moaned. “Ahh—ahhh—Jace—f-fuck—”

My knees shook.

“You like my fingers better, don’t you?”

His mouth went straight to my chest.

He sucked hard.

“Ah—ahhh—Jace—”

His tongue flicked my nipple through my bra. Then he pulled the cup down and took it into his mouth.

“Mmmhh—fuck—” I moaned, my head falling back.

“So soft,” he groaned. “These tits—fuck—made for me.”

He sucked harder, teeth grazing, tongue circling slow.

I was panting, legs wrapped around his waist, grinding without shame.

He moved them faster. Deeper. Rougher.

I couldn’t hold it.

“Mmmhh—ahh—ah—Jace—yes—yes—yes—”

It hit me hard. Fast. My whole body shuddered.

I bit my lip, trying to hold it in—but I cried out anyway.

“F-fuck! Jace!”

He didn’t stop until I was shaking.

Then he slowly pulled his hand out of my jeans—and brought his fingers to his mouth.

He sucked them clean, eyes locked on mine.

“You taste like fuckin’ sin,” he said, voice deep and raw.

I could barely breathe, legs jelly.

He scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing.

“Put me down,” I whispered, weak.

“No.” He pressed his mouth to my ear.

He carried me back to the house.

The door opened.

Damien stood there, arms crossed.

He saw me. My flushed face. My unzipped jeans. Jace’s hand on my thigh.

He didn’t speak.

Jace walked past him without blinking.

He already knew.

Jace didn’t flinch.

He carried me inside like I was already his.

And maybe I was.

God help me.