Page 81 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

My heart is hammering against my chest, yet I can’t determine if it’s out of fear or pure excitement. There’s a different type of exhilarating high one gets when you know you’re about to be punished with good fucking sex.

“Why do I feel as though you planned this all along,” I accuse as my eyes narrow the closer he gets to me.

From how he chuckles and proceeds to unbutton his white dress shirt, revealing inches of his flawless, chiseled flesh, I can safely assume that’s his answer.

Wow. I fell for it.

“Better than pity sex,” he offers with a wink while he strips the dress shirt back and off his muscled arms. Maybe it’s just me—or I’m horny as fuck—but Ares has gained muscle in the last two weeks. He had to because his arms didn’t look as big and built before.

“Like what you see now that you have nowhere to run, Cunning Canary?”

I have to stop myself from drooling.

Or pressing my thighs together to tame my aching pussy.

“Cocky model,” I huff in annoyance. “I do not.”

“That’s not how a Ruthless Maiden would reply,” he taunts dangerously. Standing before me, he takes every inch of me in with his eyes that descend upon my slim frame. His eyes can’t lie—the attraction is just as obvious as the immense lust overflowing in his heavy gaze.

The intensity between us is unmatched right now, but I can’t tell how I look.

Does he see that I crave him as well?

Can he tell how my heart is racing, my palms are sweating, how exhilarated my body is, and can he catch a hint of my pooling arousal?

Biting my bottom lip has him further smiling my way, his hand not only hooking around the back of my neck but pullingme right against him. When our bodies collide, his lips take me captive, the two of us groaning as if this is what we’ve been craving all fucking day.

Heck, all week.

My hands explore his muscled flesh, enjoying the lines of his chisel wonderland and the warmth that appeases my hands that I now realize are cold in comparison. As if the temperature difference is noticeable, Ares wraps his arms around me, keeping me against him as we kiss feverishly.

“How do I keep denying myself you,” he groans into my mouth and has me locked in a deep kiss that makes my toes curl. One minute, I’m in his arms, and the next, I’m pressed against the back of the door, arms and legs wrapped around this man as if he’s a tree I never wish to let go of.

This burning desperation is so addictive.

From the taste that makes our tongues entwine effortlessly to how our bodies hum in pure desire. Distance seems like a fable tale, and our panting breaths, matched with our moans, echo effortlessly in this small space.

We’re breathless and staring into each other’s lustful eyes when a noise from behind the door catches our attention.

“Miss Prescott?” I hear a female request.

“Hmm? She’s not here?” Another woman questions.

“I guess not. Sir Leighton did request for us to ensure her space is spotless before her arrival.”

“We should be swift. We’re technically late. You know he hates tardiness.”

“Ugh. I know. He’s like his father.”

“Crazy that we’re now finding out Domino has an older brother.”

“I don’t even care about that can of gossip,” the other maid huffs. “I’m still reeling off that magazine with Ares!”

“The trending one,” the girl sighs. “God. Miss Prescott is lucky. Being plastered on that god.”

“Hah. I think he’s lucky. Miss Prescott is hot.”

“Of course, you’d say that. You’re Bi.”

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