Page 116 of Ruined Vows
She glances over me like I’m wearing yesterday’s fashion. And her attitude? Untouchable. Unapologetic.
She knows she’s beautiful and can bring any man to his knees. I assume her goal today is to get me on mine. She doesn’t know I’ve been on them, praying I break her.
I lean back in the lounger with my sunglasses on, pretending she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing to me. She lowers herself onto the one beside me.
She knows. God,she knows.
I sip champagne, I don’t even taste. I take her in, willingmy cock to stand down and relieved that my sunglasses are too dark for her to see my eyes.
“You’ve been quiet,” she says finally. Her voice is lazy and calm. She stretched out her shapely legs and showed just enough cleavage to taunt me.
“Watching you work,” I answer. “I admire your strategy.” She smiles slowly, wickedly. “Is it working?”
I look over. “You’re flawless.”
She raises a brow.
“But I don’t want perfection.”
“Oh?” Her voice drops. “What do you want?”
“Mess,” I say, eyes locked on hers. “Noise. Surrender.”
She blinks once, then she stands. She doesn’t walk, she glides to the edge of the pool with all the elegance of a woman who owns the city behind her.
And dives. I watch the pristine water break around her like it’s grateful to touch her.
When she surfaces, she swims to the side and rests her arms on the edge with her chin tipped up.
“Coming in?” she asks.
She doesn’t know how dangerous that invitation is.
But I go. I walk into the water, and it’s warm. The air’s thick. She floats beside me like temptation in motion.
“Why haven’t you touched me?” she asks, her voice filled with apprehension. “Really touched me, I mean.”
I swim closer to her, close enough so that only she hears me.
“Because if I touch you,” I say, “I won’t stop.”
Her breath hitches, and she blinks. Then she drifts closer, so that her shoulder brushes mine, and her lips are inches from my jaw.
Her voice is a breath. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”
Fuck. She’s brutal. Something in me snaps. One hand slides beneath the water to her hip. The other presses to herlower back, pulling her to me hard enough that she gasps. Our mouths don’t meet. Not yet.
But I can feel every inch of her against me now. Her firm breasts begging to be squeezed, her taut abs pressed into mine.
And I’mdone pretending.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” I whisper, mouth near her ear. “Not the sex.The surrender.The moment you stopped running. The second you stop pushing me away and let go.”
Her breath stutters as I’m about to kiss her.Almost.
But a voice calls out from the terrace.
“Mr. Petrovic, your international call is holding.”
