Page 47 of Ruined

I moaned his name as his rough, calloused hands slid over my body. I curved into him, a whimper escaping my lips as he trailed his rough fingertips around the swell of my breast. “River, please—oh, fuck!” I gasped as his lips closed over one of my nipples, his hand molding my other breast.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he rasped as he lifted his head, his lips meeting mine again. My heart swelled in my chest at his words.

He quickly unsnapped my jeans and tugged them and my panties down my legs. I quickly pushed his cut off his shoulders, and I began fumbling with the buttons on his flannel as he peppered hot kisses all over my skin. I moaned, trembling already and we’d barely gotten started. Desperation clawed at me. I needed to feel his skin on mine.

“Oh, fuck it,” I grumbled right before I ripped the damn shirt open, the buttons popping everywhere and scattering across the floor.

River’s husky laugh met my ears before he gripped my chin, bringing his lips to mine while I ran my hands over his hard chest and his rippling abs.

Fuck, he was carved beautifully.

He let me push his flannel shirt off of his shoulders, and I pushed his jeans down his legs a moment later, licking my lips in anticipation as his cock sprung free. He was hard, thick, and long. Just fucking right.

Oh, God made him absolutely perfect when he created him.

My eyes locked on his when he gripped my chin, tilting my head back. “Last chance to back out,” River warned me.

I shook my head at him. There was no fucking way that I could walk away now. He was right there. So fucking close. I didn’t give a fuck if anyone walked in on us. Someone could set the garage on fire. I wasnotwalking away from him. From this.

We were inevitable.

He pushed me back on the worktable so that I was on my back. He spread my legs, and in one swift thrust, he was buried deep inside of me. My back arched off of the table, his name falling from my lips as I clutched at his forearms. He felt like Heaven inside of me.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he choked out, his eyes momentarily rolling back in his skull. “You feel a fuck ton better than I thought you would.”

He set my feet on the table, so my legs were bent and spread wide. Then, he gripped my shoulder, his other hand still gripping my hip, and he proceeded to ruin me for every other man.

And right then, I fell hard for him because even though he was fucking me hard, he was still treasuring every bit of my body and this moment between us.

I was ninety-nine percent sure that River was the one Joey had told me would come around and be the one for me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Adelaide

When River stepped into the bar room, freshly showered and ready to start another day, my eyes instantly drifted over to him like a magnet. He was dressed in a red and black checkered flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed forearms. He adjusted his cut as he fully exited the hallway.

God, why was he so damn perfect?

His eyes met mine from across the room, and a slow, sexy smile tilted his lips the slightest bit, making my cheeks flush and a throbbing start in my core.

He had taken me over and over yesterday in the garage, and I had enjoyed every single moment of it. And then, after we’d tugged our clothes back on, he’d sat on the floor of the garage and just held me in the dark silence. Not a word was spoken between us, yet he comforted me more than any other person in my life ever had. Even Joey.

“Adelaide, Tristan is trying to get in touch with you,” Zyla announced as she came out of the kitchen, her phone held in her hand, Tristan’s name on the screen.

“Tell him I said to go fuck himself,” I snapped, knowing very well he would hear me himself.

“Watch yourself, Addy, or I swear when I get back—” Tristan snarled, Zyla obviously having him on speaker.

“You’ll what?” I angrily demanded, snatching a bottle of vodka from under the counter. River’s eyes darkened momentarily at Tristan’s unfinished threat, but he held himself in check, keeping his mouth shut. “Fuck me into submission?” I heatedly asked. “Handcuff me to your fucking bed again?”

“This will hold until I get back,” Tristan sneered.

I twisted the top off the vodka bottle, glaring at the phone in Zyla’s hand, wishing he were in front of me so that I could slap him. “Touch me when you get back,” I dared him, “and I will personally chop off every single one of your fingers.” I moved away from the bar, storming to the clubhouse doors, the bottle of vodka still in my hand.

But even in my anger, I didn’t miss the proud smile on River’s face as I walked out, and it made my chest swell with pride.

“Morning, Adelaide,” Dameon greeted from under the hood of one of the cars in the garage.

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