Page 27 of Ruined Vows
And then, as if he knows how I feel, he leans closer, just enough that I can smell the cologne and sweat on his skin. Heat radiates off his body like it knows how much I hate how much I want him.
Then he kisses me.
It’s not soft. Not sweet.
It’s slow. Intentional. He kisses me like he has all the time in the world to destroy me and is going to enjoy every second of it.
The pressure on my lips is delicious. His lips are warm. His scent fills my nose, making it difficult to breathe. Not because it’s too much, but because it’s allhim.
I kiss him back. I didn’t mean to, but I’m powerless. Thank God my heart thumps on despite my predicament because I can’t move, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to.
His hand slips behind my head and rests on my neck, holding me in place. He nibbles at my lower lip, teasing andtasting, then he covers mine. His tongue enters my mouth, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Him, me, us, our lips melding as one.
His kiss is sinfully hot, the kind of hot I can wallow in for days. The kind of hot I feel on my skin when my body is burning under the summer sun, on a lake, in the desert with my body slathered in vegetable oil.
I don’t move away. Instead, I swallow my moan as my lips kiss his. I can’t remember when his lips left mine because moving means losing. I wait, breathlessly, as he straightens in the seat.
“Ten dates, and I plan to make each one hurt a little more,” he murmurs.
His breath ghosts across my jaw like a threat or a promise of something more, and god help me, I can’t wait to find out which.
He opens the door and slips out. The city is waiting, but I’m locked in his orbit. It takes a few seconds for me to clear my head.
I exit the car, and he stands before me, larger than life.
Before I breeze past him, I ask, “?You want to win?”
He steps closer, and our eyes lock. “I already did.”
I open my mouth to argue, to saysomething, but his lips are on mine again.
His lips part mine with slow authority. Not asking.
Taking.
His tongue slides against mine like he’s memorizing the taste of defiance. He kisses like a man who’s waited too long and decided patience is no longer a virtue.
His hand curls around my neck, firm but not rough. His mouth moves against mine with no warning and no hesitation. And just like everything he does, it’s controlled, deliberate, and utterlydevastating.
The heat of the flames flickers between us like a roaring bonfire.
My spine hits the car, my breath vanishes, my thighs are clenched.
God help me—I melt. I lock my knees to remain upright as heat pulses low and hard in my body. A liquid ache is pooling between my legs faster than I can process.
My body is limp with anticipation. I grip his shirt, not to push him away but to ground myself. I’m a fall risk, and I’m nowhere near the age where that’s even a concern.
His lips burn against mine, branding me. And it breaks something I didn’t know I’d been holding back.
He murmurs against my mouth. “You think that was control?” he rasps. “That was mercy.”
Then he kisses me harder.
My pussy clenches. And this time, I can’t hide it.
Iwhimperinto his mouth like a traitor. My thighs press together tightly. As if closing them will keep me safe. As if it will protect me from his throbbing cock that’s engorged against my thigh.
