Page 54 of Ruthless Reign

Breathing heavily, he grips my legs and swiftly pulls me until my ass is positioned at the very edge of the mattress.

“I want to touch you,” I say softly.

He nods and efficiently undoes my bindings, both around my legs and around my wrists. I flex my hands and stretch out my legs, enjoying this newfound freedom.

“Are you ready?” He strokes down my body, his eyes gently traveling over my face. The look he’s giving me is almost too much, too intense. Full of emotion and meaning.

My body tenses in sweet anticipation, ready for him to surge forward and take me.

He slides his length between my folds, not yet pressing inside of me. I release a whimper. He feels so thick and hard as he lines himself up with my entrance.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful like this,” he whispers, sweeping his thumb over my cheek.

My heart squeezes at his words. I don’t know how we ended up here after everything, but it’s like all the pieces of a puzzle have finally locked into place.

Emotions tangle in my chest, and I haul in a breath, preparing to adjust to his size. “You’re the first man to make me come, and now you’ll be the first man inside of me.”

Roman doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. He cups my chin as his deep brown eyes hold mine, intense like a silent storm ready to break.

A low growl escapes him, vibrating against my skin. “Not like this,” he declares, pulling back from me. “When I fuck you, it’s going to be because you beg me too, not because I paid for this pussy. You’ll give it to me because you can’t breathe unless I’m buried nine inches deep,” he rasps. “Keep the money; I don’t care about it. When you’re ready to be fucked properly, you know where to find me.”

Disappointment sinks like a brick in my chest.

Is he serious? Doesn’t he see how badly I want him—money or no money?

Something tells me that nothing I do or say right now will change his mind, so I bite my lip and let him go without another word, leaving tangled feelings and unanswered questions hanging heavy in the air.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

LIZA

I gaze out the airplane window, silently urging the pilot to defy international speed regulations to get me home faster. The tension in the cabin is off the charts, and not in a good way.

It’s just Roman and me, sitting across from each other. We both keep sneaking glances at one another, only to abruptly avert our eyes.

I’d like to know the social etiquette for when someone goes down on you for the first time, gives you the best orgasm of your life, and nearly claims your virginity—the one he paid good money for—but stops short due to some personal moral code.

At least, that’s what I assume the issue is. I wouldn’t know for sure because Roman and I haven’t spoken since last night. Even then, our only exchange was my request to fly home today.

There's a lot left unsaid between us, but it’s better that way. What happened in London was insane and definitely a one-time thing. Considering Anatoly is his business partner, Roman is probably feeling as awkward about it as I am. It's easier to pretend it never happened.

Which Roman is doing quite well. He appears to be buried in work, sending texts and staring at his laptop screen. Whatever he's doing, he's not paying attention to me or the phone in my hand, and I’m grateful for that.

I can’t stop checking my bank app to make sure the money is actually there. That all this is real. Thanks to Roman, a cool three hundred and fifty thousand dollars is tucked away in an offshore account, set aside for trading. Turning that money into one million dollars in three weeks is ambitious, but Roman’s generous bid gives me a real shot at freedom.

An ache builds in my chest. Last night, I could only focus on the sting of rejection, but in the light of day, I see it differently. Whatever this incessant pull is between us—and I honestly don’t have the words to name it—can’t end well. It’ll never be something more than it is.

Maybe he was saving me from making a decision that would always end in ruin.

“Roman,” I say before I really know what I’m doing or asking. “What happened last night?”

His face tightens, and he blows out a ragged breath like hearing my voice is too much. “You know what happened. But let me put your mind at ease—no one will ever know. Go back to your fiancé and your pretty little life, and you can bury this secret with all the rest.”

The metallic tang of blood fills my mouth, and I realize I’ve just bitten down on my cheek. Hard. I should be thrilled that he’s promising to keep quiet, but instead, everything about this moment feels wrong.

“Um, well, thank you for...” Jesus, the words get trapped in my throat.

His phone rings, and I'm grateful for the distraction. He glances down to see who's calling. His nostrils flare, before his eyes meet mine again. “It's Anatoly. Have you spoken to him since the incident with your sister?”

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