Page 195 of Ruins
“I need words, Mia Dea.”
She whimpers, her hands tightening on my shoulders.
“Please,” she breathes.
I push deeper, feeling the tightness and wetness of her needy core gripping me fiercely as I move with her body.
Her moans fill the air as my mouth explores every inch I can of her trembling body, listening intently for any hint of what she needs from me.
Her breath hitches and catches in her throat, a desperate gasping that borders on wanting and surrender. Each inhale is a ragged, almost pained sound, as if each breath is a struggle against the intense pleasure coursing through her body.
It’s a symphony of soft gasps and moans that fill the air, mingling with the pattering of water hitting the tiled floor.
I slip in a second finger and her nails trail my back. With each thrust of my fingers, her moans turn frantic.
“Santo,” she breathes out, her hands clawing me as she tries to pull me closer.
“Shh,” I soothe her, dropping soft kisses against her shoulder and neck. “I’m here.”
The raw intensity of her pleasure is a drug that I am quickly becoming addicted to and it’s a high that I never want to come down from.
Her body is strung tight, trembling in my arms, on the precipice of breaking.
She is so fucking close.
“Let go for me, Dea,” I whisper, pressing a kiss behind her ear.
She shatters.
A broken cry escapes her lips, her body convulsing against mine, gripping my fingers tight as wave after wave of pleasure rips through her.
She is magnificent like this.
Lost,wrecked, completely undone.
There’s an enchanting beauty in witnessing her submit to the orgasm, lost entirely in the realm of carnal ecstasy with only my voice guiding her through it.
Her release coats my fingers, her trembling thighs clamping around me as her climax crashes through her.
I don’t move, don’t rush her.
I hold her through it, kissing her softly, whispering words I’m not sure I deserve to say.
When her breathing finally slows, when the aftershocks fade, I carefully extract my fingers and just hold her in my arms.
I cradle her against my chest, letting the warm water wash over us both.
Her arms curl around my neck, her trust so complete it steals my breath. I feel my heart swell with a kind of love I thought I was incapable of experiencing. Every soft gasp and sigh she emits is a testament to the trust and faith she has put in me, a responsibility that I have every intention of honoring.
It’s as if she knows I will always hold her, always catch her.
And fuck—I want to.
Her eyes flutter open after what seems like an eternity, meeting mine, but it’s the smile she gives me, sweet and full of satisfaction tinged with exhaustion, that makes me promise silently to myself that when I have her completely it will be with all the love and respect that she deserves.
I step out of the shower with her still in my arms, I dry her gently with a warm towel before putting her down and wrapping her in a robe, tying it securely.
Her gaze drops to my still-hardened cock, a soft heat stirring in her wide, exhausted eyes.
