Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 43: Covenants Don’t Break

The world didn’t just snap back; it exploded into existence.

One second, darkness. The next, air in my lungs and the floor beneath my feet.

I didn’t wait for the noise of the party to catch up. I didn’t wait for the champagne bottle to hit my hand. I didn’t wait for the inevitable crash of the timeline settling into its groove.

I turned on my heel and sprinted.

Past the shocked faces of the guards. Past Brielle, who was just opening her mouth to ask if I was okay. Past the grand staircase.

I tore down the hallway of the Alpha’s wing, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs that had nothing to do with running and everything to do with the man waiting at the end of the hall.

I didn’t knock. I slammed the door open.

Devon was standing in the center of the room. He hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet. He stood there, perfectly still, his dark eyes locked on the door as if he’d been counting the seconds.

"You made it," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated straight through the floorboards.

I didn’t answer. I crossed the distance between us in two strides and launched myself at him.

He caught me.

His arms wrapped around me, iron-hard and unyielding, absorbing the impact as if I weighed nothing. My hands tangled in his hair, yanking his head down, and our lips smashed together.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a collision. It was twenty-four loops of murder, twenty-four loops of silence, and years of hatred pouring into a single moment. He tasted like whiskey and trouble. He tasted like mine.

He groaned into my mouth, the sound came out as a guttural, animalistic sound that made my knees weak. His large hands slid down my back, gripping my waist before sliding lower to cup my ass. He squeezed, his fingers digging into the flesh through the silk of my dress, possessing me.

"Irene," he growled against my lips, biting my lower lip hard enough to sting.

He lifted me, his grip tightening as he pressed me flush against him. I felt it immediately—the thick, hard ridge of his erection straining against his trousers, grinding against my stomach.

Heat flared in my belly, molten and instantaneous. I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperate to get closer, desperate to erase every layer of fabric between us.

"You knew," I breathed, breaking the kiss for a fraction of a second, my forehead resting against his. "You arrogant prick, you knew the whole time."

"I told you," he murmured, his eyes dark with an obsession that terrified me as much as it aroused me. "I’d wait for you in hell. A time loop is nothing."

He ground his hips up, sharp, deliberate friction that made me gasp.

"Show me," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave. "Show me you’re real."

I withdrew, breathless, my pulse racing in my throat. I untangled my legs and slid down his body until my heels hit the floor. I stepped back, breaking the contact.

Devon made a noise of protest, reaching for me, but I swatted his hand away.

"Patience, Alpha," I said, a slow smile curving my lips.

I backed away toward the massive four-poster bed. His eyes followed me, predatory and starving. He didn’t move, just watched, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked cool, composed, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles turned white where he gripped the back of a chair.

I reached for the single button of my dress and unbuttoned slowly and deliberately.

The black silk pooled at my feet.

I stood there in nothing but my black lace bra and matching panties, the fabric doing absolutely nothing to hide what he did to me. My nipples were hard, pressing against the lace, my panties soaked.

Devon’s gaze raked over me, dark and heavy, like a physical touch. He looked at me like I was the only water in a desert.

"Fuck," he breathed. "You look like sin."

I climbed onto the bed, not bothering to take the heels off. The sheets felt cool against my skin, and lay back. I spread my legs slightly, pulling up one knee on the bed, heels matching the bed and crooked a finger at him.

"Come here."

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Devon moved with a fluid, lethal grace. He shed his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. His tie followed. Then the shirt, buttons flying as he ripped it open, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the muscles shifting under his skin.

He crawled onto the bed over me, caging me in with his arms. He loomed above me, blocking out the light, blocking out the rest of the world.

"You killed me twenty-four times," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His hand trailed down my throat, over my collarbone, resting right over my racing heart. "You owe me."

"I owe you nothing," I shot back, though my voice trembled.

"You owe me this," he corrected.

He kissed me again, slower this time, deeper. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming every corner, tasting me with a thoroughness that made my toes curl.

His hand moved down, over my stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties. He ripped them.

The sound of tearing lace was loud in the quiet room.

"Devon—"

"I don’t have the patience to take them off," he muttered against my neck, trailing wet, hot kisses down to the hollow of my throat. "I’ve waited too long."

He pulled put my knees up and spread my thighs apart, settling his weight between them. I bucked up instinctively, needing him, aching for the friction.

"So impatient," I teased, running my hands over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. "For a man who mastered time."

"You have no idea," he growled.

He reached down, freeing himself. I looked down, my breath hitching at the sight of him—thick, heavy, and ready.

He grabbed my hips, anchoring me to the mattress, and thrust into me.

"Oh god!" I cried out, my head thrown back into the pillows.

He filled me completely, stretching me, claiming me. It was too much and not enough all at once.

Devon groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder as he held perfectly still, letting our bodies adjust.

"So tight," he gritted out, his voice strained. "You feel... fuck, Irene. You feel incredible. I could spend the rest of this time loop buried inside you."

He pulled back almost all the way, then slammed back in.

I gasped, my nails digging into his back, dragging down the skin. My heels dug into the sheets, vision blurry.

"Do you like that? My cock fits perfectly, doesn’t it?" he demanded, snapping his hips again. "Tell me."

"Yes," I panted. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. The loss of control sent a jolt of electricity through me. He looked down at me, his eyes burning with that cool, terrifying intensity.

"Say it," he commanded.

"Yes, Alpha," I whimpered.

A dark, satisfied smirk twisted his lips.

"That’s it," he whispered. "Good girl."

He began to move in slowed, practiced move then. Long, punishing strokes that drove me into the mattress. The bed frame creaked a rhythmic protest.

The friction was blinding. Every thrust hit that spot deep inside me that made my vision blur. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, matching his pace. Heels dug into the skin of his back.

"You think you hate me," Devon said, his voice rough, broken by his heavy breathing. Thrust. "You think you can kill me." Thrust. "But your body knows."

"I do hate you," I moaned, tossing my head.

Sure," he snarled softly. "I’ll gladly accomodate you, baby."

He released my wrists and grabbed my breast, his thumb flicking over the hardened nipple through the lace of my bra. I arched my back, a cry tearing from my throat.

"You love this," he said, driving into me harder, faster. "You love how I make you feel. You love this sick game we play, don’t you?"

"Devon, please," I begged, the pressure building in my lower belly, tight and coiling. "I’m close. I’m—"

"Not yet," he ordered.

He changed the angle, grinding against my clitoris with his pubic bone as he pounded into me. It was sensory overload. It was too good.

"Look at me when i fuck you, remember?" he muttered.

I forced my eyes open.

He was watching me. He was watching every expression on my face, drinking it in like it was his life force. He looked cool, collected, yet utterly unhinged with need.

"You’re mine," he said, the words slamming into me with the same force as his hips. "In this loop. In the next. In every timeline, Irene. You belong to me."

"I’m yours," I sobbed, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "I’m yours, Devon."

That broke him.

His control snapped.

He let out a roar, his pace turning frantic, brutal. He pounded into me, faster, harder, deeper, chasing his own release.

"Cum for me, baby. Come on..." he growled.

The command pushed me over the edge.

My body seized. The orgasm hit me like a physical blow, shattering through my veins. I screamed his name, my inner walls clamping down on him in spasmodic waves.

Feeling me tighten around him, Devon groaned, his face contorted in pleasure. He drove into me one last, deep time, burying himself to the hilt, and poured himself into me.

He shuddered, his heavy body collapsing on top of mine, his breath harsh and ragged against my ear.

We lay there for a long time, the only sound the harsh mingling of our breathing and the distant, muffled sounds of the party downstairs.

I lay beneath him, boneless and utterly ruined, staring up at the ceiling. The sweat cooled on my skin.

Devon lifted his head slowly. He brushed a strand of hair off my damp forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle after the violence of our loving.

He kissed my nose, then my lips, a soft, lingering seal on the contract we’d just signed with our bodies.

"Welcome back, baby," he whispered.