Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 14: Wet and Willing

Did she just call him fiancé?

The words hit me like a slap. My hands dropped from his neck as if his skin burned. Devon’s fingers flexed on my ass, like he was going to keep me pinned there anyway, but I shoved him hard enough that he actually let go.

Andrea stood in the doorway, arms crossed, honey-brown eyes glassy with tears.

"You heard me," she said, voice shaking. "Fiancé. Three years promised, Devon. Three years."

Devon didn’t even glance at her. His stare stayed locked on me, jaw tight. "Andrea, get out."

"No." She stepped inside, heels clicking. "Not until you explain why you’re dry-fucking some Omega on your desk the night of our unification ceremony."

I laughed, sharp and ugly. "Some Omega. Cute."

Devon finally turned his head. His voice dropped to that lethal quiet that made grown warriors piss themselves. "I said get out."

Andrea flinched, but she didn’t move. "Answer me."

Devon took one slow step toward her. "You want to do this here? Fine. I don’t owe you explanations. The alliance is political. The ring is political. My cock"—he jerked his chin toward me—"is none of your fucking business."

Her face went white. "You bastard."

My stomach lurched. I backed toward the door, legs shaky. "I didn’t know," I said to her, voice cracking. "I swear I didn’t know he had a fiancée."

Andrea’s eyes snapped to me, venomous. "Save it. You reek of him."

I swallowed bile. "I’m sorry."

Then I ran.

"Irene!" Devon barked behind me.

I didn’t stop. Elevator, stairs, I didn’t care. I burst out of the private wing and kept going until the cold night air slapped my face. My heels dangled from my fingers; I’d lost them somewhere. The Omega quarters were across the compound, and I sprinted the whole way barefoot, lungs burning, tears freezing on my cheeks.

I slammed my bedroom door so hard the frame rattled. Collapsed face-first onto the mattress. The sheets still smelled faintly of him from the last time he’d cornered me here. I wanted to scream.

Fiancée.

He had a fucking fiancée.

I kissed that mouth. I let him beg on his knees. I rubbed myself against him like a bitch in heat while his future Luna was probably picking out silver roses for tomorrow.

I curled into a ball, arms around my stomach. Nausea rolled through me in waves.

Minutes or hours later, the door opened and closed without a knock.

His scent flooded the tiny room—cedar, smoke, raw power.

"What do you want?" I spat into the pillow, not bothering to turn on the light.

"You," he said, low and calm.

"You need to leave me alone, Devon." my voice crackled with frustration and fury.

"You know that’s not possible," he said, voice smooth as silk.

"Stop this madness! What more do you need from me? You took my family, stripped me of my title, forced me into an Omega’s life. You took everything. Just leave. Me. Alone. Please."

"You don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. This is do‑or‑die. Either I have you... or I kill every man who even breathes near you."

I laughed, bitter. "Are you here to humiliate me even more?"

Bootsteps. The mattress dipped as he sat on the edge. "I never humiliated you."

I rolled over, glaring into the dark. "You let me grind on your dick while your fiancée was downstairs drinking champagne for a wedding you’re apparently having sooner or later. That’s the Silvercrest definition of respect?"

He was quiet for a beat. "Andrea and I were promised three years ago. Political. I never touched her."

"Don’t care." I sat up. "Get out."

"No."

"Get out, Devon."

He leaned forward; moonlight from the cracked blinds cut across his face. Beautiful, cruel, unreadable. "If you want her gone, say the word. I’ll end it tonight."

I stared. "You’d dump your fiancée because an Omega asked you to?"

"I’d burn the fucking world down if an Omega asked me to." His voice was steady. "Especially if that Omega was you."

My heart stuttered. I hated that it stuttered. "You’re insane."

"About you? Yes." He reached out, slow enough I could have moved. His thumb brushed a tear track on my cheek. "I’ve been insane since the night you left your scent all over my sheets in that cabin."

I slapped his hand away. "Stop."

"No." He caught my wrist, tugged me closer until I was half in his lap. "You can spit fire at me all you want, Irene. Doesn’t change the fact that you were dripping wet for me ten minutes ago."

I tried to yank free. He held tighter.

"I hate you," I hissed.

"I know." His mouth brushed my ear. "Hate me harder. Doesn’t make me want you less."

"Let go."

"Make me."

I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. His other arm locked around my waist, dragging me fully against him. My thin tank did nothing to hide how hard my nipples were. Traitor body.

"You’re shaking," he murmured.

"Because I’m furious."

"Liar." His nose skimmed my throat, inhaling deep. "You’re shaking because you still want us to finish what we started on that desk."

I bared my teeth. "I want you to get the fuck out of my life."

He laughed, dark and quiet. "Keep dreaming, baby. I’m not going anywhere."

I tried to knee him. He shifted at the last second, pinning both my legs with his.

"Listen to me," he said, voice suddenly serious. "Andrea means nothing. The engagement was my father’s dying wish—keep the old alliances happy. I was going to break it after the ceremony. Then I met you in my office wearing that scrap of nothing and I forgot the world existed."

I swallowed. "Pretty story. Doesn’t erase the fact you lied."

"I didn’t lie. I omitted. There’s a difference."

"There really isn’t."

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. "Ask me for anything, Irene. Anything. Her head on a silver platter. My mark on your neck. Name it."

My breath hitched. "You don’t get to say shit like that to me."

"Why not?"

"Because I’ll start believing you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His eyes flared silver. "Good."

He kissed me.

Not soft. Not asking permission. Just took my mouth like he’d been starving for it. I bit his lip hard enough to bleed. He groaned and kissed me harder, tongue licking into my mouth, tasting his own blood and not caring.

I fisted his shirt, intending to push. Ended up dragging him down with me instead.

He settled between my thighs like he belonged there, hips rolling slow and deliberate. The ridge of his cock pressed right where I throbbed. I gasped into his mouth.

"Still want me to leave?" he growled against my lips.

"Yes," I lied.

He thrust again, harder. "Say it like you mean it."

I couldn’t.

His hand slid under my tank, palm rough against my breast. Thumb flicked my nipple. I arched with a whimper I couldn’t hold back.

"That’s it," he rasped. "Let me hear you."

I turned my face away. "I hate you."

"I know." He bit my neck—not enough to mark, just enough to sting. "Hate me while I make you come."

His fingers hooked in my sleep shorts, dragging them down. I should have stopped him. Instead my hips lifted to help.

Cool air hit my skin. Then his mouth—hot, wet—closed over me.

I cried out, hands flying to his hair. He licked me like he was trying to erase every thought from my head. Long, slow strokes of his wet tongue, then fast flicks that made my thighs shake. When he slid two fingers inside and curled them, I shattered with his name on my tongue.

He didn’t stop. Kept licking me through it until I was sobbing, oversensitive and wrung out.

Only then did he crawl back up, kissing me so I tasted myself on his tongue.

"Look at me," he ordered.

I did. His eyes were pure wolf.

"I’m keeping you," he said. "Fight me all you want. You’re still mine."

I wanted to scream that I wasn’t.

But my legs wrapped around his waist all on their own, pulling him closer.

He smiled, slow and dangerous. "That’s my girl."

I let him dryhump me again. Then, I shoved him away when my climax rippled again, remembering that I had to keep my rule of not having sex with him. And, I kicked him out.

Before he slipped out of my room, he says, "Don’t forget to dream about me fucking you."

I did. And I woke up wet. Again.