Page 38 of Mine to Ruin

“No,” I say with a shake of my head.

“Mine, Ellia. You are mine.”

Intensity and unmistakable possessiveness burn in his eyes. He gathers me in his arms, my ear pressed against his wild thumping heart, while he strokes my back.

“I can’t promise you anything. In this fucked up world, only one thing is certain; promises are made to be broken. But I’ll try my best for you every day, and I hope it’s fucking enough.”

“I’m not asking for anything else, Kian.”

“But you deserve everything.” He pulls me to his chest, and I snuggle him.

With him caressing my back, sleep finds me fast, and a feeling of being at home overtakes me.

When I open my eyes, I find myself alone in Kian’s bed. I hop off the bed, pick up his discarded shirt, and wrap it around my body, inhaling the mix of his natural scent and sandalwood. A note on the nightstand catches my attention.

Living room. Yours, K.

I clutch the note to my heart and walk out of the room. My eyes flood with tears and I cover my mouth. Hundreds of candles and red-and-white petals cover his place. He is waiting for me downstairs with outstretched hands. I fly down the stairs and straight into his arms while he twirls me around.

“What is this?”

“Dinner? I thought this should have been the prequel before the sex, but…”

“It’s perfect.” I raise up on my tiptoes and kiss him.

“Hungry?” he asks, and my stomach growls in response.

On the table, there’s a small buffet spread, from finger food, to salad and meat, two glasses of wine, and an entire box of small donuts.

Emotions pour out of me and I say, “You make me so damn happy, you’re perfect.”

Heat stains his cheeks. I kiss him again, and my entire being floods with warmth. We take our seats next to the other, feeding one another. This moment here with him, with happiness mingling into my cells, will be forever ingrained in my mind.

We talk about everything and nothing, and I never felt closer to another person. After dinner, we walk into his gallery. He plops on the chair and pulls me down his lap. I tell him how much I’d wanted to go to see O’Keeffe’s painting while it was on display. And how I felt alive again the moment I could paint after years of not being able to.

“What happened that night? Your sobs stayed with me for a long time.”

Kian plays with a lock of my hair. I tell him about my manager, what he did to me. Kian stills, and his breathing turns heavy. I tilt my head to the side, and watch his eyes darken with murderous thoughts.

“Kian?”

“I’m going to kill him.” His jaw sets in stone, grinding with rage.

“It’s in the past.”

“Is that why?” he gulps, and rakes a hand through his hair, disheveling it.

“Why what? Why I couldn’t paint for years? And why was I still a virgin until just hours ago?”

He nods and I try to make sense of my answer.

“Yes. It took years for me to see guys as more than predators. I promised myself my first time would be when it felt right and not for any other reason. Then you came along, and I knew I wanted it to be you.”

He lifts my hand to his lips and places a tender kiss. “The honor is all mine.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks.

“Have you seen him since then?” He fists his hands at his sides, undiluted anger stiffening his body.

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