Page 276 of Ruin Me Gently

“You know,” I said, leaning back slightly into his chest. “If this was some elaborate ploy to get me on your lap, you could’ve just asked.”

I felt his chest shake with a quiet laugh, the warmth of it spreading down my spine. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t realise that was an option.”

I smirked, tilting my head enough to catch his eyes. “It’s always an option.”

His lips twitched into a small smile and his arm curled a little tighter around my waist, thumb stroking absently against my hip. Just holding me.

I turned my attention back to the monitors, my gaze sweeping over the grainy CCTV feeds. Static twitched across the screen as people passed by, strangers coming and going, faces blurring together in smudged shades of grey, live movements flickering like ghosts caught on tape.

“Here. Gimme,” I said, reaching for the mouse.

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh,” I hushed, as I dragged the cursor across the screen. “I’ve got this.”

The footage jumped back a few minutes, the dull monochrome playing out like some weird, silent film. A man in his late twenties crossed the street, hair slicked back, suit wrinkled like he’d been wearing it for two days straight.

“That guy,” I said, pointing at the screen. “His name’s Jeremy. Works in finance but secretly hates it. He’s only doing it because his dad’s some big shot investment banker, but what he really wants to do is open a cat café.”

Silas huffed a quiet laugh. “A cat café?”

“Don’t judge Jeremy,” I shot back. “He’s tired of wearing ties. He just wants to let sleepy cats drool on his lap while he sips tea.”

I clicked the screen again, scrolling randomly. More strangers drifted by. A guy in a hoodie. A couple holding hands. A kid on a scooter.

“Your turn,” I said.

He shook his head. “I’m not—”

“Come on,” I pushed. “What’s his deal?” I pointed to a man leaning against a lamppost, puffing away on a cigarette.

Silas sighed, but he leaned forward, resting his chin on my shoulder. “That’s… uh… Eric,” he muttered. “Used to be a bouncer, but he gave it up after breaking a guy’s nose in a bar fight.”

I snorted. “Eric looks like he cries at Pixar movies.”

“Exactly,” Silas shot back, the breath of a smile ghosting against my neck. “He’s got a seven-year-old daughter. Loves dinosaurs. Keeps her little plastic T-rex in his jacket pocket because she’s convinced it’s a good luck charm.”

I grinned. “That’s surprisingly adorable.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, dragging his lips across my shoulder.

I bit my lip and tipped my head to the side, giving him better access. And when he kissed just below my ear, something hot and electric flickered down my spine, and a breathless sound escaped me.

“Feel good?” he asked, voice low, dripping with heat.

“Mhm…” My thighs clenched beneath his hands.

His fingers slid higher, creeping beneath the hem of my skirt, thumbs grazing over the soft skin. Too slow. Too teasing. It wasn’t enough—nowhere near enough.

“Sei così morbida,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to my shoulder, lips dragging over the curve of my neck. “Così dannatemente perfetta.”

Something about being so soft. Something about being perfect.

I’d been picking up the odd few words here and there, but right now, there was no way I could even attempt to string them together properly.

All I could do was feel.

So I rocked my hips against him, rolling slow, pressing down just enough to hear that low, guttural sound crawl up his throat.

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