Page 27 of Ruined

Ishould’vepunched him. I needed to shatter the tension before it choked me out, but I couldn’t move. My awareness shrank tothe hand still near my collar, to the inches that separated us, and his mouth.

Dominic leaned closer, slow enough that I could’ve stopped him. But I didn’t. I froze when his lips grazed my jaw. The barest brush of heat.

It wasn’t even a kiss, but my body locked up. My fists clenched tight, my chest heaving with the effort it took to keep still.

Don’t move.

His breath lingered on my skin, and my pulse pounded. He stayed for a moment longer. Then he slowly pulled back, smiling.

“You can be as tough as you want, Luca…but don’t get yourself killed.”

He turned and walked away. My hands ached where my nails dug into my palms. It was too hot. I needed to rip off my jacket just to breathe. The ghost of his touch still crawled over my skin.

Fuck.

I’d let him get too close.

But a dark shred of my soul wished for something worse.

I wanted him to stay.

SEVEN

LUCA

I jumped in the shower when I got home.

I scrubbed myself twice in scalding water, but that didn’t get rid of thethoughts. His taunting whisper lingered in my ears like he’d followed me into the steam.

You look like you want me right here.

I shoved my palms against the slick tiles, breathing hard, water dripping from my hair and running into my eyes. He was supposed to die. Instead I let him tie me to a fucking chair. He was right. It was a sloppy mistake. Sloppy wasn’t my style.

I’d gotten distracted by his body. Hadn’t expected to admire the broad muscles of his back, his narrow waist, the way his ass had flexed when he kicked away his pants.

How his cock bobbed against his leg—even before he’d gotten hard.

The vision seared into my brain. I fought against it, but my cock surged to life.

What if I didn’t hate him? What if I hated myself forwantinghim?

I squeezed my eyes shut.

His hand on me. The pressure at my throat. The way his mouth had suckled my skin.

My hand drifted downward.

Don’t.

I gripped the edge of the shower shelf, but it didn’t stop the ache curling low in my stomach. My hand slid to my cock. My fist wrapped around it, and heat shot through me.

I gritted my teeth. “Fuck.”

The slick glide of my hand wasn’t enough. It didn’t match what I imagined: Dominic leaning in, his fingers curling tight around my wrist, his smirk daring me to break. I saw his gleaming hazel eyes, fixed on me, as he whispered something.

Good boy.

My hand moved faster, heat pooling tighter in my gut. I tipped my head against the tiles, chasing a high I didn’t want but couldn’t stop.

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