Ruth’s POV
The second Emmett kissed me, I stopped thinking.
His mouth crashed into mine like he needed to erase every boundary I had, and it wasn’t gentle. His hands gripped my face like he owned it. My back slammed against the wall, and his body pressed against mine, harder than I thought I could take. He angled my head with one hand, holding me still as his tongue forced its way in.
His mask was gone. The scar across his face was sharp and exposed, raw against his skin. I stared at it between kisses, but he didn’t flinch. He wanted me to see it, just like he wanted to see everything in me. There was nothing hidden anymore.
He grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, pressing my arm into the drywall. The pressure made my chest rise. I could barely breathe. His mouth moved to my neck, dragging teeth across my skin.
“Say you want it,” he said.
I swallowed. “I want it.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I fucking want it, Emmett.”
That was all he needed. His hand slid around my throat, not tight, but enough to make me feel the weight of it. My breath caught. He felt me tense under him and smiled.
“You like that,” he murmured. “Being held like this. Makes you wet, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, and his grin deepened. He released my throat long enough to rip my shirt over my head. Then he lifted me by the thighs and carried me to the bed. My back hit the mattress hard, and he was on top of me instantly, yanking my bra down, his mouth latching onto my nipple with no warning.
“Fuck, Emmett-” He sucked hard, then bit until I arched and gasped. He switched sides and did the same.
“Every noise you make is mine tonight,” he said. “You hear me?”
“Yes,” I panted.
He stood, unbuckling his belt, then stripped everything off in silence. I watched him, heart hammering, eyes on the deep scars down his ribs. He didn’t try to hide them. He let me see every inch, and I felt something shift. Then he pulled something from the drawer beside the bed. A folded black cloth. Inside, a blade.
He met my eyes. “I won’t cut you unless you ask.”
My throat tightened. He crawled back onto the bed, straddled me, and brought the knife to my skin. The tip touched just below my collarbone, cold, sharp, terrifying. I didn’t move.
“You want to know how close I can get without breaking you?” he asked. He dragged it slowly across my chest, not cutting, just pressing hard enough to leave a red trail.
“Still not scared?” he asked.
“I am,” I said.
“But not of me.”
“No,” I whispered. “Of how much I like it.”
His eyes darkened. “Good.” He lowered the blade down my stomach, between my breasts, pausing just above the waistband of my pants.
“You want to feel it for real?” he asked. “You want to bleed for me?”
“Yes,” I said before I could even think.
He kissed me again, slower, tongue sliding against mine, then set the blade aside. “Later.”
Then he yanked my pants down, stripped off my underwear, and shoved my legs open. He ran his fingers between my thighs and growled under his breath.
“You’re soaked. You’ve been wanting this. Say it again.”
“I want it.” He lined himself up and slammed into me in one brutal thrust. I screamed, clutching at his shoulders. He didn’t stop. He drove into me hard, every stroke deep and punishing.
“You like being fucked like this,” he said, panting. “You like it when I take it.”
“Yes,” I gasped. He pulled my leg up, spread me wider, drove deeper.
“You want me to ruin you, Ruth?”
“Yes,” I cried out. “Do it. I want all of it.” His mouth came down on mine, devouring. He bit my lip until it hurt, then moved to my throat again. One hand on my neck, the other gripping my ass to pull me tighter.
“I’ll bruise you everywhere,” he said. “I want you to feel me tomorrow. I want every step you take to remind you I was inside you.”
“Do it,” I breathed. “I want to feel it.”
He growled, thrust harder, faster. The bed frame slammed against the wall with every movement. I felt myself unraveling, heat building fast, too fast.
“I’m gonna come,” I choked out.
“Do it,” he said. “Let go. Come while I’m inside you.”
I broke apart. My body convulsed under him as I came, raw and loud, sobbing his name. Tears slipped from my eyes. I didn’t know why, only that I needed it, needed him. Emmett didn’t slow, he fucked me through it, harder, until his voice cracked.
“I need you to see me,” he groaned. “See me like this. Broken. Obsessed. You want all of me? This is it.”
“Give it to me,” I said.
He let go. When he came, it wasn’t silent either. It sounded like something deeper than release, like something he hadn’t let out in years. His entire body locked above mine as he buried himself deep one final time and let himself break. Afterward, he collapsed beside me, both of us slick with sweat, our breathing uneven and hard.
We lay in silence. No words and pressure, just air moving in and out like we hadn’t earned it until now. But I already understood, things had changed. My body felt different, my boundaries had shifted, and so had my view of him.