Page 72 of Ruin Me Gently

My breath came fast, broken, shuddering out of me in ragged moans as my stomach clenched and my legs shook. My orgasm slammed into me, violent and all-consuming. My cock pulsed, spilling hot, thick, and messy over my stomach, my hand, the tile.

My knees damn near gave out as I sagged against the wall, forehead pressed to the cold ceramic, heart slamming against my ribs, muscles twitching as I milked every last pulse of pleasure from myself.

I hadn’t come like that—hadn’t come at all…Fuck.

I swallowed hard, letting the water wash away the evidence, but it did nothing to erase the thought of her. Exhaling slowly, I pressed my fingers into my temples, like I could push the thought out, bury it and suffocate before it could turn into more.

But it was already too late.

She was there, lodged beneath my ribs.

I wanted her. Not just in passing. Not just in the way a man wants a woman. It was deeper than that. Hungrier.

“Sei un coglione,” I muttered to myself, slamming my hand against the temperature dial, cranking it down even lower until the water stung like needles against my skin.

Good.

I deserved it.

I had no right to be thinking about her like this.

What was wrong with me?

The stunt in the shower didn’t help.

Neither did the coffee. Neither did throwing myself into back-to-back meetings, forcing my attention to budgets and expansion plans, AI integrations, software development timelines—shit I usually lived for.

Nor did the mind-numbing rhythm of answering emails, not the tech updates from my CTO, not the quarterly revenue breakdowns or investor check-ins. Not the code reviews, not the system security audits, not even the hiring strategy for our next big acquisition.

Nothing helped, because all I could think of was Lilith.

Lilith in my bed. Lilith in nothing but moonlight. Lilith barefoot in the kitchen. Lilith in one of my shirts. Lilith’s picture burning a hole through my damn phone screen.

Lilith, who hadn’t texted me all day.

Had I pushed too far? Had my moment of panic ruined it all?

The thought twisted like a knife in my gut.

I tried to tell myself that maybe she just needed a little space, that I didn’t need to smother her.

But then I’d caught myself ordering her lunch.

I’d passed by the bookstore, hands shoved deep in my pockets, just to see her working mechanically, stacking shelves, smiling at customers like everything was fine.

Like she wasn’t ignoring me.

Like I wasn’t losing my mind.

I needed to know.

Needed to know if she was okay.

So now, I was stood across the street, watching as she locked the door. She didn’t look up. Didn’t glance around. Didn’t see me as she started walking.

Silas

Hey. Are you okay?

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