Page 41 of Ruthless Savior
“Because you’re not one of us. That shouldn’t be okay to someone like you. And I don’t want to corrupt you.”
I speak without thinking, the wine warming my blood and his closeness slowing my senses. I can smell the spice of his cologne, and desire builds in my core, everything in me wanting to reach out and pull him closer. “Maybe I’d like it if you did.”
Something in him snaps. I see it—see the heat that darkens his hazel eyes, see his muscles tense as he steps forward, caging me in against the shelves. He braces one hand next to my head, his other hand coming up to touch my chin, tilting it up.
And then, before I can even take a breath, his mouth is on mine.
It’s not my first kiss, but it might as well be. The others have been clumsy, messy, high school boys or drunk college students who turned me off with the sloppy way they kissed. This is something else… something that I’ve never experienced before.
His mouth is hard against mine, firm and hot, exploring my lips as I reach up to touch his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, taste whiskey on his lips, and I feel desire flood me, an aching need building that demands to be satisfied.
For a moment, everything else falls away. The danger, the complicated circumstances that brought us together, the fact that this is probably the worst idea either of us has ever had. There's just this—his mouth on mine, his hand still touching my chin as he kisses me, the way he makes a hungry sound low in his throat when I part my lips for him.
His tongue brushes against mine, and I moan, arching into him as I feel something thick and hard press against my thigh. His hands drop to my hips, holding me to him, his grinding against me for a brief moment as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me.
And then he wrenches himself away from me like I’ve burned him, staggering back as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, his accent thick and his voice rough. “Christ, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
I’m frozen in place, unable to move, a pulse beating between my thighs and my entire body an aching mess of need. “Ronan?—”
“I’m sorry,” he bites out again, and then he turns on his heel, storming out. The door slams behind him, making me flinch, and I reach up to touch my lips, still warm from his kiss.
I didn’t want him to stop. I’d have let him keep going, let him fuck me right up against the shelves if he wanted, I realize. Heat floods me at the thought, and I want to go after him, to insist that we finish what we started. To tell him thatI’mnot sorry.
But I don’t.
What the fuck am I doing? I stare at the closed door. This isn’t some guy I met at a party or a bar. This isn't a normal situation where attraction can lead to more, and there aren’t a hundred reasons why it shouldn’t. This is Ronan O'Malley—a man who tortured and killed someone just days ago. A man whose hands were literally stained with blood.
He’s a mob boss. The head of a crime family. The idea hits me suddenly, the full weight of what that means. I'm potentially having romantic feelings for a crime boss. The absurdity of it, the sheer impossibility, makes my head spin.
This is dangerous.
This can’t happen.
And I can’t let myself wish that it would happen again.
11
RONAN
Ican still taste her on my lips by the time I get up to my bedroom, rock-hard and aching for something I absolutely should not have. I slam the door behind me, leaning against it as I fumble with the front of my pants, my cock out and in my hand in a matter of seconds.
I kissed her.
I shouldn’t have fucking kissed her.
“Christ,” I hiss between my teeth, stroking feverishly as the thought of her mouth against mine pushes me to the edge almost immediately. I’ve never had a hair-trigger when it comes to my orgasm, but something about Leila makes me feel as if I’m going to lose control as soon as I touch myself. As soon as I think about her.
She felt so fucking good against me. Her mouth felt perfect, soft and warm, her body felt like it was made for my hands. I wanted her right there, wanted to drag her jeans down her hips, and wrap her perfect fucking legs around my waist, sink my cock into her and?—
“Fuck!” I curse aloud as my cock starts to spurt without warning, my orgasm hitting me uncontrollably. I cover mycockhead with my hand, my stomach muscles clenching as I groan with the sheer pleasure that throbs through me, the release making me dizzy from the force of it.
I don’t think I’ve ever come as hard as I do just from the thought of her. I can’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to actually have her. To come inside of her.
Just the thought has me half-hard again before I’ve even cleaned up.
I go to the shower, lingering in there long enough that I hope she’s gone to bed by the time I come out. I’m too restless to sleep, so I go downstairs instead, thankfully without running into Leila as I retreat to my office.
