xlii) Love
The sex is great. He takes it slow, steady, and slides into her like a needle. His body wraps around her like a glove and warms her like a fireplace on a cold winter's eve. They lay in bed afterwards, cupped in each other.
She takes the sadistic satisfaction of lulling him into complacence, her wrist bleeding into his mouth as her mouth caresses him. He's addicted to her personality, logic, body, blood. Not even Dean's barbed words can snap him from his drugged daze. Sam's hers, only hers.
In more than one way, Ruby loves screwing over Sam Winchester.
