Page 67 of Ruby Malice

“Until now.”

“Until now,” I agree.

She swallows, and I want to take a bite out of her neck. I want to devour this woman, taste her inch by inch.

“Why now?”

I draw closer, tilting my face so my words whisper across her pulse point. “Because there’s a first time for everything. Some rules are made to be broken.”

Her hands fly up and land on my shoulders. She draws away from me. “Is that what this is? Am I some accomplishment you can tick off?Dear Diary, I broke another rule today. Hooray for me.”

“I do not keep a diary.”

“Of course you don’t. Emotionally repressed men never do.” She tries to push me away, but I draw closer. Without meaning to, her hands slip over my shoulders and around my neck. “Stop it, Kirill.”

“Then stop saying my name like that,” I growl.

There’s a beat of hesitation before she exhales. “Kirill.”

When I look at her, the same raw desire that was there before is back. Her fingers slide up and stroke the hair at the base of my neck.

I draw in a deep breath and close my eyes. “Take your hands off of me.”

Rayne goes perfectly still. “What?”

“If you want me to stop,” I say, drawing on every ounce of restraint in my body, “then take your hands off of me. I’ll walk away. But if you don’t—”

“What happens if I don’t?” she breathes. “What will you do to me?”

An animal sound I barely recognize rumbles through my chest. I graze my rough cheek across her smooth one and let my lips brush across her neck. “Everything,” I whisper. “I’ll do everything.”

All at once, she softens. Her thighs part. She arches her chest into mine and her fingers curl into the hair at the base of my neck.

I kiss her neck and her collarbone. I taste her silky smooth skin while she writhes against me, angling her hips to seek out the sensation she wants. She moans in frustration, and I drag her into my arms and pin her against the edge of the counter with my hips. Our bodies fit together like we were made for this. Rayne rolls her hips against me, and I see fucking stars.

I slam my mouth against hers. Her lips part in a yelp of surprise, but the sound is lost to a helpless whimper. I take her full lower lip between my teeth. And when I slip my tongue against hers, it’s like touching a battery. We zing, hum with an energy I can’t explain.

But I feel the need to try.

“I haven’t let myself come since I met you,” I murmur.

She leans her head back to let me kiss down her neck and hooks her ankles behind my lower back, positioning herself against the steel rod in my pants. “Liar.”

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m sure you haven’t, either.”

She fumbles, just for a moment. It’s a brief hesitation, a guilty conscience expression itself.

But it’s enough.

I draw back, eyebrow raised. “Or have you?”

Her face is flaming red and jealousy roars inside of me. “Who?”

“You,” she says quickly. “Or, well—It was me. Myself. But I was thinking of… Never mind.”

“Look who’s filthy, too.” I nip along her jawbone. “Did you touch yourself in bed? Or did you use a toy? It better have been a big one. I’d hate for your fantasy to be inaccurate.”

She laughs and it’s like music. Not tinged with annoyance or frustration, it sounds completely different. Free. For a minute, I forget about everything else except for this.

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