Page 90 of Ruby Malice

“She was naked in your bed.”

“By her design,” he says. “She wanted you to see the two of us together. That's why I sent her away.”

“You sent her away to run me over. How thoughtful.”

He arches a brow. “Would you rather I stayed here and fucked her? Then she wouldn’t have run you off the road. You’d probably be getting on your bus right now.”

No.The answer is loud and firm inside of me. I’d rather Viktoria have actually run me down than witness that nightmare. But I don’t want to say that. I’ve been vulnerable enough. It’s time for Kirill to flash his cards for a change.

“Why didn’t you?” I ask again.

He takes another step forward and my heart leaps. “Because I only do what I want.”

“Okay.” I turn to face him, the water cascading down my shoulder, running in rivulets across my chest. Kirill’s eyes catch there before flicking up to my face. “And what do you want to do?”

The single beat stretches out lifetimes, possibilities and hopes rising and falling with the pulse of my racing heart. Then Kirill closes the distance between us and pulls my body to his.

Instantly, his clothes are soaked, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he grips my chin and tilts my face up just as his mouth closes over mine.

It’s a fire no amount of water could put out. My body flames to life as his tongue swirls into my mouth, tasting me and teasing me. I draw my wet arms around his neck, tethering our bodies together so he can’t leave.

Kirill slides his hand down my neck slowly. His fingers pause over my throat and then dip lower. He traces my collarbone and circles my breast. When he palms my nipple, I arch into his touch. I’m greedy for it. For him.

I fumble with the buttons of his shirt and then make my way to his pants, but Kirill stills my hands. I grunt in frustration. He just chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” I argue between kisses.

He laughs again and pushes me back against the cold tile wall. I hiss, but when he drops to his knees in front of me, I no longer feel the chill.

“You always think you know best. You think you know what you want, Rayne.”

He hooks his fingers into the elastic of my panties and yanks. The sound of fabric tearing is deafening. But the second he cups my center with his large hand, the blood thrumming through my veins drowns out everything else. His finger curls over my slit, and I think my legs might give out. Then he leans forward and kisses the top of my thigh, and I’m sure they will. He looks up at me. It’s obscene how beautiful he is. Violent things shouldn’t be so pretty.

“But you need me to show you what you want,” he says. “I’ll teach you what you like. What you didn’t know you needed.”

Kirill parts me with his fingers and presses kisses to the core of me. His lips are soft and his tongue is firm. Each flick and suck is torturously thorough. I stroke my fingers through his damp hair and press him closer as I roll my hips against his mouth with a wild abandon I’ve never felt before.

This infuriating enigma is turning my world inside out. I can hear myself screaming and crying out his name, but I can’t control it. Can’t control anything. I’m at Kirill Zaitsev’s mercy, and he is taking no prisoners.

“I’m going to come,” I gasp, rocking into his perfect mouth. “Take me. Please. Take me.”

Suddenly, Kirill slides a finger into me, and I’m doomed. I clamp around him so hard I’m sure he’ll never see that finger again.

My body clenches up, and Kirill slides his palm against my stomach to make sure I don’t collapse.

His mouth tears me apart and puts me back together, piece by piece. Warmth floods my body, bringing me back to myself. By the time he stands up and grips my chin, I’m his. Whatever he wants, I’ll do it.

Whatever he wants, I’ll do it.

I don’t realize I’ve said that last bit out loud until Kirill’s eyebrow arches. “Be careful, Rayne. Deals with the devil are binding.”

I cross my wrists and hold them above my head. “Promise?”

“Fuck,” he breathes. He slides his hands to my hips and draws our bodies together. I feel the hard length of him against my thigh. “You.”

“Me?”

He nods, his cheek grazing against mine. “That’s my answer. The answer to your question. What do I want? I wantyou.”

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