Page 120 of Mine to Ruin

He curls and uncurls his hands on his thigh, his body strained with the pleasure my mouth gives him. I rejoice in the power I have over him. He’s burning to touch me, yet he doesn’t.

“I am going to come. Open wider.”

He explodes, and the chair rocks with his release. I swallow him down, his thumb brushing against my lips. I lick my lips clean and bite into his thumb.

“You fucking own me, Ellia.” He drags me up, lifts my dress and says, “You’re drenched.” He plays with my body until he gets hard again and slams himself inside of me.

I say through a moan, “Good or bad?”

“You’re my good, bad angel,” he says, and I come.

“You never cease to blow my head, or was it my mind.”

I throw the napkin at him, and his laughter is infectious.

A server comes over with a bottle of wine and Kian tells him we’ll call if we want something.

There are many moments I will forever save in a special box in my brain and heart. But this one, as I sit in his lap, his chin on my shoulder, the two glasses of wine lying empty on the little white antique table, our eyes gazing from one painting to the other, might top all the other. I lift my sparkly diamond and it shines in the candlelight. In the stillness of the vast room, our hearts beat in perfect harmony. This right here must be what paradise is all about.

Chapter 39

Kian

I sit down on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Ellia’s movements in the bathroom remind me she is still here, still mine. I have never fought for a woman’s attention, and my confidence has dropped these past few days. I love her to the point of madness.

The thought of losing her, of her loving anyone else, even if it’s my own brother, is unbearable. I have sacrificed everything for him, and the stealthy look he tries to hide when I appear, I know well. He’s playing games.

But instead of having the guts to confront me, the sneaky asshole uses my only weakness to get to me. I hope he’s ready when I fucking explode.

Anger pulses in my veins, the reminder of how I lifted a spoon of soup to my mouth, while every bone in my body ached, while he blabbered about puppies and cars. I would get the hell beaten out of me, night after night.

“Why are you the best, Kian? Unbeaten?”

I was forged in hell, of course no one could defeat me. I shoot up, my chest heaving, flashes of masked men, as my father sat on a chair with a glass of whiskey and said to me.

“Remember, Kian, it’s you or him. And now make me proud.”

Ellia hugs me, yanking me back from that place my brain is still a captive. “Come back. I am here, baby.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. After I make him pay, I’ll be the man she deserves, when my past doesn’t haunt me any longer.

I dial Melanie and say, “Get the jet ready, we’re flying to New York.”

I hang up and see worry etched in Ellia’s eyes.

“I have some business to attend to,” I explain.

“When will you get back?” she asks and steps inside the dressing room.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Would she be better off with a man who doesn’t live for revenge as I do? Too late for that question.

“In two days. I’ll call you every spare minute I have.”

“I love you,” she says and kisses me when we’re at the door.

Why doesn’t she marry me already? If she loves me, why does she let my brother snake his head between us?

In the car, my feet bounce, and I drag a hand down my face, this tension mixed with energy rippling through me. I fucking miss Ellia already.

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