Page 127 of My Ruthless Husband

Fighting breathlessness, I start to shake my head but his fingers tug my ponytail, tilting my head back. “Don’t think about lying.”

“Yes… it does.” I open my heavy-lidded eyes. “But it also makes me want you more.”

Dark satisfaction shines in his eyes and it sends shivers through me. Every bit of dignity in me falls away when it comes to this man. It’s like the connection between my brain and my mouth breaks whenever I am around him. That is why I often end up confessing things I should keep hidden.

With my face flushed, and my breasts rising and falling with every shallow breath, I stare at him, letting him see how he affects me. I show him how much I desire him, hoping and praying for his control to snap so that he could finally make love to me.

Through half-lowered lids, he watches me, then slowly reaches down and grabs my wrists. I tremble when he raises them and places my arms around his neck.

He bends his head and I gasp when his lips brush the corner of left eye. One hand slides down my back and with the other he catches my chin and tilt my head backwards, making me look up at him.

Feeling incredibly shy, I shut my eyes, while my heart beating wildly in my ears.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

I shake my head, swallowing thickly.

“Don’t you want to witness the effect your honesty has on me?”

At that, my eyes fly open of their own accord and what I see shakes me to the core.

A raw, unadulterated desire is burning in his gaze. For me. Just for me. I whimper and his mouth takes possession of mine.

A moan escapes me as his mouth moves hotly against mine. My hands restless in his hair. I arch toward him, pressing into his hard body, wanting to merge myself with him forever. His hands grip me with equal need, his tongue demanding. I let his kiss, his touch, consume me until I become boneless. Literally.

My knees buckle but Damian wedges his knee between my legs. I’m wearing flared trousers, and the layers of our clothing is only heightening the pressure of his hard thigh against my pussy. I shudder when he moves his leg slightly, rubbing me. The friction makes me wetter and I do the unthinkable. Without any thought, digging my nails in his broad shoulders, I give into the primal urge and move against his thigh.

With his mouth still moving against mine, he reaches for my ponytail and deftly pulls the hair tie, setting my curls free.

Damian kisses me like he has all the time in the world. And I just soak it all in. This is where I want to be, in his arms. Feeling him all around me, taking over my senses.

He lets out a little groan when I suck on his tongue. It’s so foreign because Damian isn’t always vocal. He is always in control. The rush of knowing I’ve managed to pierce through his steel control is so exhilarating, it’s filling me with a heady sense of empowerment.

His hard body is pressing me against the wall as he devours my mouth and even though I’m trapped, I feel like flying. I feel safe. I feel at home.

The bulge in his pants make me blush harder but does it stop me from grinding against him? No. Picking up on my signals, Damian increases the friction, making me gasp. At the same time, his lips move down and nip at my jaw before sliding to the side of my throat. I tilt my head, giving him full access, wanting more of his rough kisses on my skin.

His kisses are so aggressive, hungry and passionate that I shiver when I feel his tongue on my flesh. I’m on fire, the tension in me building the harder he kisses my neck and his thigh rubbing between my legs.

I dig my fingers through his hair and push his face harder against the crook of my neck. Damian reaches between our bodies and unfastens the button on my trousers. As his fingers work to lower my zipper, the shrill ring of his phone pierces the air. Simultaneously, distant voices filter in, just outside the elevator door.

I pull back from Damian, the spell broken by the sudden interruption. His eyes meet mine, frustration evident in the tight line of his jaw. “Damn it,” he mutters quietly, his voice rough with desire and irritation.

I tuck my curl behind my ear, suppressing a smile. But it instantly turns into a gasp when he hooks his finger inthe waistband of my trousers, tugging me closer. I watch, mouth agape, as he zips me up and buttons my pants. Then, unexpectedly, he produces a handkerchief.

Blushing furiously, I wipe at my lips and then glance up to find him watching me intently. Without a word exchanged, I stand on my tiptoes and gently wipe his lips as well.

He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. As he does, he reaches out to press a button on the panel. The elevator jolts momentarily before smoothly resuming its ascent. Pulling me close to his side, he murmurs, “I’ll take you home.”

I sigh, understanding the unspoken message. Even tonight, he won’t make love to me. I’m beginning to think Damian is old-fashioned. He won’t take me to bed until he puts a ring on my finger.

The idea of marrying him fills me with a rush of joy so intense that if I could, I would marry him right this instant. Imagining a future together, sharing our lives in every way, feels like the most natural and perfect thing in the world.

He was my first kiss on my eighteenth birthday; what if I get my first time on my twenty-first? If only he would ask me to marry him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Present

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