Page 129 of Ruin My Life
Like we were carved from the same broken stone.
She wraps her arms around my neck, ankles locking behind my back. I carry her down the hall to the last door on the left—the room I never sleep in, the room I barely know how to exist in anymore.
I kick my bedroom door open and head straight for the bed. The curtains are drawn, and moonlight cuts the room in silver.
All the rooms in this penthouse are set up the same, mainly because I could barely figure how to decorateoneof these giant bedrooms, let alone six of them differently.
I lower her onto the mattress and her fingers tighten on my shoulders like she’s scared I might leave her here.
She doesn’t understand—nothingcould make me leave her now.
She could pull a knife, drive it into my ribs, and I’d probably beg her to cut me again if it meant she’d let me have her.
I’m so fucking gone for her, I don’t even care how far I fall.
I strip off my shirt with one hand and toss it aside, then meet her eyes as I unbuckle my belt. Her gaze moves over me slowly, hungrily, like she’s just now seeing me for the first time.
Moonlight clings to the curve of her cheekbone, her parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest beneath her T-shirt. It sparkles in her gorgeous hazel eyes as she drinks me in like fresh water after a drought.
Fuck.
If I wasn’t rock hard for her already, I am now.
I slip my belt out of its loops and drop it onto the floor by my feet, my eyes on her the whole time. I watch her eyes drift lower, to the deep V that’s revealed as my jeans ride low on my hips.
“See something you like, little rose?” I ask, my thumbs hooked in the waistband of my jeans.
Her eyes snap up to mine, and her cheeks flush.
“No,” she says—too fast. But that fire’s still flickering in her gaze when she adds, “I’ve seen better.”
I smirk. “Oh yeah?”
I shove my jeans and briefs down in one motion, and her eyes drop again—to my cock, thick and painfully hard for her.
She stares.
Her jaw falls open.
Then shuts again like she’s trying to pull herself together.
She swallows hard. Blinks at me—atit.
I reach for her waistband next, dragging her shorts and panties down her thighs, slow and deliberate.
“Still sure you’ve seen better?”
She doesn’t answer, because she can’t.
I crawl onto the bed and brace myself above her, lowering just enough that the head of my cock grazes her stomach where her shirt’s ridden up.
She shivers. “That isnotgoing to fit.”
I grin, but my voice stays soft.
“Having second thoughts aboutmore?”
Her face shifts—something flickers.
