Rage And Ruin Novels & Stories

He began to fuck me with a raw, animalistic intensity, his hips slamming against mine with a wet, slapping sound that echoed through the empty house. He groaned, his pace accelerating, driving deeper and harder until I felt my walls clench around him. I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me in violent waves, my pussy gripping him tight. He let out a guttural roar, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me with hot, thick pulses of cum. “You want more, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and rough. “You want me to fuck you hard, to make you scream my name."

“Because he was proud of you.” Tears burn behind my eyes. “He said you were stubborn,” Ruin says. “Too smart for your own good. That you survived things that should’ve broken you.” My shoulders shake with the silent sobs I can’t control. “He said you had a wolf that refused to die,” Ruin finishes quietly. “And that if anyone ever tried to cage you again… he’d burn the world down.” A soft, aching sound slips from my throat. I press my fists to my eyes, trying to hold myself together.

"Because of him, you lost your baby." "Abandoned me?" Violet whispered, her tears falling afresh. The weight of Sean’s words sank in. If she had carried a child for this man, it meant she must have trusted him, even loved him. Yet, he had betrayed her and caused her to lose her baby. The realization filled her with an unbearable sense of loss and rage. First her brother, then her mother, and now her child. How dare they ruin her life? Sean watched her closely, his expression unreadable. Though he had lied about her husband’s betrayal, he had his reasons. He had seen the pain in Violet’s eyes on that cliff and wanted her to channel her anguish into seeking revenge.

Alex pov I know what they say, that nothing can make one change his behavior or his reasoning or even throw away his morals. But what of heartbreak. Or betrayals Revenge. Well, I couldn’t care less anymore. What I know is that there is a fire that was ignited in me. I prefer to term it rage. And it burned brighter than I could control. My view of this world changed that fateful night. I am not ashamed to say it, but I have given up on love.

“We would like the bill, this date is over.” “Is everything ok sir?” She sounded small and scared. Not that I could blame her. Ruin was a scary man even when he was happy. When he was angry, he was terrifying. And he was definitely angry now. “Yeah just peachy. The mother of my child won’t marry me.” He shrugged, his voice rising. I ducked my head, my cheeks flaming. “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” *** He was pushing the bike too hard in his anger. Taking the bends at breakneck speed. Leaving me with no choice but to hold on to his back and pray that he kept control of the bike.

Broken dishes, overturned furniture, objects scattered across the floor—everything bore witness to the emotional storm that was raging inside him. His face, which normally displayed a serene beauty, was now contorted with rage. Those deep blue eyes, which used to convey kindness and understanding, were now filled with a dark intensity. Nolan cursed and swore, spewing words and insults with an intensity he had never shown before. Each profanity was a cry of frustration, an echo of his loss.

"Burn it to the ground, Kirrily. Strip the Vance name off every building in Sydney. If my father built this empire on a lie, and my mother is using your sister as a bargaining chip to keep her seat, then let it burn." He leaned closer, his breath warm against my mouth. "Four years ago I thought this company was my legacy. I was a fool. You and Toby were the only real thing I ever had. If losing the firm is the price of keeping you safe, I'll stand in the ashes with you gladly." A tear slid down my cheek, hot and fast. For four years I'd hated him. I'd fed my rage on the memory of his cold face in the storm. But sitting here now, his hand over mine on the trigger of his own ruin, I understood

Roland looked dazed, as if he were seeing me for the first time. That expression was truly laughable. He said, "Mirella, we've been married for years. Must we really reach the point of mutual destruction?" I sighed, mimicking how Roland acted in my previous life. "It's precisely because we're husband and wife that I can't show favoritism. I know you're not someone who's obsessed with wealth and glory. Only this method can convince the King that you're truly a man of noble character. After all, how could such a man possibly have endangered the King just to chase after a concubine in a temper?"

I continue to smash and destroy everything within reach, each crash and clatter echoing the turmoil in my mind. A framed picture of Graham and me, once a symbol of our partnership, now feels like a mockery. I grab it and throw it with all my might, watching as it shatters into fragments. The glass cuts my hand, but I barely feel it through the haze of rage and despair. The bookshelf is next. I yank books from the shelves, flinging them across the room. The titles blur together as they hit the walls and floor with dull thuds. The room, once a place of order and control, is now a chaotic mess, mirroring the ruin of my life.

But underneath all of that was the sharper, unfinished ache Richard had left behind—the phantom press of his fingers, the low promise that he could ruin me deeper than his son ever would. I showered longer than necessary, scrubbing until my skin felt raw, as if I could wash both of them off me. It didn’t work. When I looked in the mirror, my lips were still slightly swollen and there was a fresh reddish mark high on the side of my neck that I couldn’t quite hide with my hair. I chose a high-neck sweater anyway.