Page 125 of Ruby Malice

He sounds like Mom.

“You’ve got a soft heart and a good head on your shoulders, Rayne. Listen to them, and you’ll know what’s best.”

“There she is,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes. “I thought I lost her.”

Kirill releases my chin and pulls away. The moonlight sharpens his already square jaw, highlights his straight nose and full lips. A desire I’ve never felt before rises in me, consuming me cell by cell like a wildfire. If I don’t quench this hunger, I’ll combust. I know it.

I reach for Kirill again, but this time, there is no hesitation. No doubt. The voices in my head have gone quiet.

Instead, there is only him. Only me.

“I know what I want,” I pant.

I slide my hands down his body to unbuckle his jeans. The hard length of him is free in an instant. And when I slide my lips over his tip and down, taking his desire into my mouth, there isn’t a single doubt in my head.

I glance up as I work his dick to see Kirill’s pupils are blown wide. For a change, he’s easy to read, too.

His legs part, and I settle between them, my hands on his thighs. I suck along his length, fist meeting lips and then sliding apart again. With each pass, Kirill’s breathing grows more ragged.

He grips the back of my head, thrusting gently into my willing mouth. His hips flex and his muscles contract. Seeing him like this makes me more certain than ever that this could never be casual. Not for me.

Watching Kirill unravel isn’t casual or fun.

It’ssacred.

“Holy fuck,” he growls after a few minutes, collapsing back onto an elbow in the sand. “I could finish like this.”

That is fine with me. Experiencing this with him, knowing that I’m the one driving him to the edge is all I need. This is enough for me.

Suddenly, Kirill wraps a hand around my hair and pulls. My mouth slides off of him with a pop.

“But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I can say anything, Kirill drags me against his mouth.

Kissing him feels like breathing. Our bodies slide together, a give and take that I never want to end. He grabs the hem of my sweater and tugs it over my head. I lift my arms to help him.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he says, smoothing his palms down my ribcage and around so he can unclasp my bra and toss it in the pile with my sweater. “The restraint it takes to be around you…”

“Even in my uniform?” I chuckle. “You can’t possibly like me in that.”

He squeezes my thighs and glides his hands higher, parting my legs so he can slip a hand inside of my jeans. His finger curls against my center. Electricity surges through me.

“It takes everything I have to walk past you and not bend you over a table every second of the fucking day,” he says, flicking his finger against my clit. “Or carry you to my bed. Or finish what we started in my kitchen.”

I gasp. “I want all of that.”

He arches a brow. “Is that so? You sure spend a lot of time telling me to leave you alone.”

A second finger slips into me. I roll my hips against his hand. His palm is offering the exact friction I need and my body is buzzing louder and louder.

“Because it’s too hard to focus when you’re around,” I admit. “I can’t stop thinking about…” My voice dies, but that seems to make Kirill’s fire brighten.

He grabs my chin and jerks my face right up in his. “No. Don’t quit. Tell me what you can’t stop thinking about. Tell me what you want.”

His fingers slide against my swollen skin, and I can’t stop myself from riding his hand. I don’t have his self-control. “I want this. I’m so—God, I’m close. Let me come.”

He works his fingers inside of me and slides a thumb around to circle over my apex. It’s a miracle I manage to stay seated on top of him. My thighs are clamped around his hips like my life depends on it. And right now, it might.

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