Page 95 of Ruin Me Gently

Her eyes flicked over my half-covered face for a second before she took a deep, steady breath. Then shook her head. Once. Slow. Final.

I moved toward her, guiding her back into the house, and kicked the door shut behind us. Hard.

Her breath was shallow. Mine was worse.

A fucking standoff.

“Shut your damn eyes, Lilith.”

She did. Immediately.

My restraint snapped and I tore my scarf off, letting it drop to the floor. “Keep them shut,” I rasped, my voice barely human as I spun us, caging her in against the door. “Good girl.”

A shaky breath left her throat. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

I didn’t answer. I took. Lips crashing into hers, swallowing the gasp that tore from her throat.

I gripped her face, fingers curling into her jaw, tilting her up to me, deepening the kiss until there was nothing left but heat and teeth and need. My other hand found her waist, sliding down, pulling her flush against me.

Harder.Harder.I couldn’t get her close enough.

I bent, fingers digging into that perfect ass, and lifted her off the ground in one easy pull.

“No!” she yelped between kisses, tightening her thighs around my waist, hands pushing against my chest.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers as I backed her into the wall. “I’ve got you.”

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough. My head tipped back, giving her exactly what she wanted. And then her mouth was on me, lips hot and wet against my jaw, trailing lower, teeth scraping, sending a full-body shiver rippling through me.

“Take me to my bed. Top of the stairs on the right. Take me there. Now,” she demanded.

Blood rushed straight to my cock. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.”

I shifted her higher in my arms, adjusting my hold, and moved.

Top of the stairs. Right.

Her arms locked around my shoulders, legs cinching tighter around my waist like she was afraid I’d let go.

Like that was even a possibility.

I hesitated at the bedroom door, something clawing at my ribs.

“You’re not walking, Mr. Stalker.”

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Put me down on the bed,” she murmured.

I laid her down, and she landed soft against the mattress, stretching out, arms above her head.

“I can’t keep my eyes shut.” Her fingers lifted, pointing toward the set of drawers across the room. “Second one down. Grab a scarf.”

My breath stilled. A blindfold. She wanted me to blindfold her. To keep her from seeing me.

The drawer creaked as I pulled it open, the soft weight of fabric meeting my fingers.

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