Page 33 of Ripper's Redemption

“God, Tara,” he murmurs against my mouth, his hands cupping my face gently yet possessively. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” I challenge, my fingers running along his hair.

He stands, pulling me up with him, our bodies pressed together.

We stumble toward the fireplace, our movements desperate, fueled by the intense connection between the two of us.

The heat from the flames mixes with the fire igniting between us, making the room feel sweltering.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, eyes darkening as they roam over me.

“Shut up and kiss me,” I demand, and he obliges, his mouth crashing onto mine with a passion that takes my breath away.

His hands slide under my shirt, lifting it over my head in one swift motion.

He pauses, eyes drinking me in, before his lips find my neck, trailing hot kisses down to my collarbone.

My skin tingles where he touches, every nerve ending alive, screaming for more.

“Ripper,” I gasp, arching into him as his hands travel lower, fingers skimming the waistband of my jeans. “Please.”

“Patience,” he whispers, but the smirk playing on his lips tells me he’s anything but patient.

With a swift motion, he undoes the button of my jeans, sliding them down along with my panties.

I kick them off, standing bare before him, vulnerable yet empowered by the way he looks at me—like I’m the only woman in the world.

“Your turn,” I say, pushing against his chest until he sits back on the rug.

I straddle him, peeling his shirt off, revealing the taut muscles underneath.

Scars crisscross his torso, each telling a story of the many trials and tribulations he’s been through.

“You’re so perfect,” I murmur, tracing one particularly jagged scar with my finger.

“Far from it,” he replies, his voice rough, eyes darkening with intensity. “But tonight, I’ll be whatever you need.”

“I just need you to be you,” I say, capturing his lips again.

Our movements become frantic, driven by a need that’s been building for too long.

He lifts me effortlessly, positioning me above him.

I sink down slowly, gasping at the sensation of him filling me completely.

For a moment, we stay still, eyes locked, breaths mingling.

“Move,” he commands, hands gripping my hips.

I obey, rocking against him, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

The rhythm builds, faster, harder, until I’m lost in the sensation, all thoughts drowned out by the sheer intensity of what we have together.

His fingers dig deeper into my skin, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain.

The flickering firelight plays over his features, transforming him into a fierce warrior from the past.

I watch as his brows furrow in concentration, his lower lip caught between his teeth in anticipation—a sight that sends a shiver down my spine.

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