Page 166 of Ruined Vows
“On the bed. Knees apart. Hands behind your back.”
I obey, every movement slow, deliberate. I kneel on the mattress, spine straight, thighs open, and he approaches like I’m prey that wants to be caught.
He binds my wrists behind me with a precision that borders on devotion. Not too tight, but snug enough to remind me that he holds control now. That I gave it to him.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, stepping back to admire. “So fucking beautiful like this. Mine.”
The word hits me like lightning. I want to deny it, scream that I can't be his weakness, can't afford to be anyone's. But my body betrays me—heat coils low in my belly, breath shallow.
He climbs onto the bed behind me, his hand sliding from the nape of my neck down the curve of my spine, a path of fire. He presses his chest to my back, lips brushing my ear.
“You say you don’t want to be my burden,” he whispers, voice molten. “But you already are. The sweetest one I’ve ever carried.”
My breath catches, but he doesn’t stop. His hand moves around, teasing between my legs, stroking softly—just enough to make me squirm.
“Say it,” he growls. “Tell me who owns this body.”
I bite back a moan, refuse at first. But then he pinches, just enough pain to send pleasure spiraling, and the words slip out like a confession.
“You. It’s yours.”
He groans, satisfied. “Damn right it is.”
He pushes me forward, cheek to mattress, hips in the air. Ifeel him behind me, hard and hot, the promise of him almost too much to bear.
“You begged me not to die,” he says, voice strained. “Then live with me. Burn with me. Let me ruin you.”
And when he takes me, it’s not gentle. It’s claiming. Raw. Honest. Every thrust is a vow he doesn’t need words to make.
I cry out, bound and bared, and he drinks it in like worship. His hands grip my hips tightly, dragging me back to meet him over and over, until I’m nothing but sensation, unraveling.
“You feel that?” he pants. “That’s what you do to me. You make me fucking lose control.”
“Good,” I gasp, needing him deeper. “Then lose it. For me.”
He growls, animal and human and holy all at once. And when we come undone, it’s not just bodies breaking—it’s everything. It’s trust. It’s surrender. It’s the truth I still can’t say out loud.
But I think he hears it anyway.
52
VUKAN
THE MOMENT BEFORE
She chose me. And now, I have to make sure she never regrets it. But that means one thing—she stays behind.
I have to leave before another attack. This isn’t her fight. When Radovan came for her, he made it mine.
I leave her a note on my pillow—scrawled, blunt, and soaked in everything I don’t know how to say out loud:
Wait for me. One more date. One more night. I’ll come back for it—for you. A promise is a promise. I’ll kill anyone who comes for you.
I gear up in silence. Luka arrives to pick me up.
“I kill him, he’s mine.”
He hands me the blade I requested, and he doesn’t argue.
