Page 130 of Renegade Ruin

His eyes are windows to his soul as he utters the words I’ve been longing to hear. “You have me. All of me.”

A choked breath escapes me, but he’s there, inhaling my relief. His soft lips, paired with a hint of stubble, are the perfect amount of pleasure and pain as he seals his promise with a kiss.

“Fuck,” he moans against me.

His hands drop to my hips, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing. I lock my legs around his waist, the evidence of how much he wants this positioned at my core.

He carries me inside, kissing me like I’m the oxygen he needs to survive, until we’re at the foot of my bed. He slides me downhis body until my feet hit the floor. I’ve never wanted to be off solid ground more than right now.

My hands trace the planes of his chest and I glance up, losing myself in the depths of his vulnerable stare. His broad frame towers over me as he fingers the hem of my silk sleep tank and pulls it over my head.

“Fuck, Kitten.” Bishop growls, his eyes falling on where my nipples are tightened into peaks. “You’re perfect. So goddamned perfect.”

His head drops to the crook of my neck, teeth grazing my goose pimpled flesh as he kisses his way down my collar bone. He takes one nipple into his mouth while he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger.

The dual sensation sends a bolt straight to my clit. I tip my head back and a throaty moan fills the space between us.

“Those sounds,” he rasps, swirling his tongue and nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth before switching to take the other nipple in his mouth, giving it the same attention. “I live for those fucking sounds. They are the fuel for every one-handed fantasy I’ve had for the last year.”

“They are?”

Bishop falls to his knees, his hands slipping beneath the silk of my shorts and kneading my ass. “Fuck yes, second only to the sound of you screaming my name as you come on my cock and directly before the taste of you.”

A smirk curls the corner of my mouth. “You really know how to turn a girl on.”

“My girl. Only mine. No one else matters.”

His.

I suck in a breath, and he tips his head back, his gaze colliding with mine. “I’ve been so fucking stupid, Willow. You’ve been it for me for longer than I care to admit. You’ve taken care of my heart all this time, and I was reckless with yours. Thatends now. I need you to hear me when I say this. I am on my knees for you. Only you.” His breath hitches, and he bites his lower lip to stop it from quivering. “Willow, I love you. God, I love you so much it feels like it might kill me and that terrifies me. The thought of losing you?—”

I silence his words with my mouth. Sliding down to the floor, I hold his face between my hands and kiss him with everything I have. I’m ravenous despite the tears rolling down my face. He meets me with the same passion and determination, his hands roving over my half naked body. Firm yet gentle, he gives me the support I need while silently promising to protect what’s his.

“I love you too,” I say against his mouth. “I love you. You aren’t going to lose me.”

Our beating chests rise and fall in sync, echoing the sentiment that we are finally on the same page. Together.

“Never again.”

Bishop moves slowly, lifting me up so I’m once again standing before him. He slips his fingers in the waistband of my shorts and slides them down, taking my panties with them. Leaning forward, he presses his nose to the apex of my thighs and inhales. With anyone else, it would be mortifying, but I widen my stance, giving him full access.

“Hmmmm,” he hums. “Are you wet for me, Kitten?”

I rasp, “Always.”

“Damn straight. Lay back on the bed for me, knees apart, and let me see what’s mine.”

I follow his instructions, loving the way his eyes never stop devouring me as I do.

He stands and lifts his team shirt over his head. His abdomen ripples, giving me a show—raw, intense, and perfectly sculpted. Just like the heart of the man beneath.

My fingers dig into my palm just to prove to myself this is really happening.

I watch as his deft fingers find the button of his jeans and, in one flick, he pops each of them open before pushing his pants to the floor.

My eyes trace the tent of his boxer briefs, and I lick my lips, following the tight fabric down to the ink on his left leg. Every time I get the privilege of seeing his tattoos, I’m left breathless. They’re his life in art. The carefully chosen mementos that remind him of his family. The tributes to the moments that changed him. They’re a reminder of how deeply Bishop feels when he lets himself—how beautiful his soul is.

His fingers dig into the waistband of his briefs, and he pushes the fabric down, his cock bouncing free against his abdomen. Usually, the barbells of his Jacob’s ladder are what capture my undivided attention, but this time, my eyes are drawn to two fresh tattoos on his upper thigh.

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