Page 159 of Ruins
Her lips part, her breath shaky, but her gaze never wavers.
“Iwantyou.”
Not a plea. Not a request.
An assertion.
My body locks up, every muscle coiled with restraint.
For a split second, I hesitate—the weight of everything I’ve held back pressing against my ribs like a vice.This is a line I can’t uncross.
But then she looks at me,really looks at me,with a need that burns through every last thread of control I’ve clung to.
Fuck it.
She’s mine.
I cup her face, my fingers threading into the silk of her hair. Her lips part in surprise, but I don’t give her a chance to overthink.
Itakeher.
Pulling her flush against me until there’s nothing between us but heat, hunger, and the aching need we’ve denied for too long.
My mouth claims hers—soft at first, testing, teasing—but the moment she melts against me, all hesitation vanishes. The kiss turns into something raw, desperate, a clash of tongues and breathless gasps.
Her hands slide up my chest, fingertips pressing into my skin, anchoring herself to me, as if she’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have.
Her silk robe shifts, slipping against her body, revealing flashes of bare, heated skin. It’s torture. It’s heaven. It’s her—all of her.
I tear my lips from hers, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers as I try to grasp the fraying edges of control.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” My voice is a rasp, thick with restraint.
Her lips curve into the faintest, teasing smile, her fingers skimming along my jaw, her breath warm and trembling. “Maybe…” she whispers. “But you could show me.”
Fuck.
That’s all I need.
I haul her into my lap, her legs straddling my hips, her body pressing down against my aching cock, and I devour her. My hands roam over her body, feeling, memorizing, claiming. She moves against me, grinding in slow, torturous circles, and I let her, let myself fall back onto the bed, surrendering to her lead.
Her tongue dances with mine, tasting of honey and sin, leaving me lightheaded with the need to taste more,takemore. She pulls back just enough to nip at my lower lip, her playful defiance making mesnap.
With a growl, I flip her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress, taking back control.
Her robe parts as she falls against the sheets, revealing the bare, flushed skin she had hidden beneath.
I gostill.
She’s perfection.
Her hair fans out around her like molten gold, wild and unruly against the sheets, a perfect contrast to the delicate perfection of her body. It shimmers in the dim light, strands catching silver where the moon touches them, making her look ethereal, untouchable—except sheismine to touch.
Her nipples are already taut, flushed a deep rose against her flawless skin, rising and falling with each shallow breath. My gaze traces the subtle dip of her waist, the gentle curve of her hips, the smoothness of her thighs—each inch of her pristine,untouchedexcept by me.
She hesitates for just a moment, instinctively moving to cover herself, but I won’t allow it.
I brush her arms aside and cover her with my body instead, my mouth slanting over hers in a kiss that’s fierce, claiming, unrelenting.
