Page 34 of Forbidden Dark Vows

“Not here.” His voice is husky. “This is only the beginning, Ruby.”

Reluctantly, I allow him to pull away from me. I tug my jeans back up, fasten the zipper, my pussy still throbbing. I straightenmy sweater and pull down my coat as if I’m snuggling back inside my cocoon, armoring myself against the outside world.

His face is in shadow in the unlit courtyard, but I could recreate it with my eyes closed. It’s as if I have always known this man. As if our paths were simply biding their time until they crossed.

We mount the narrow stone staircase and emerge back into the busy city like moles crawling out of our burrow. Then we walk back to the hotel in comfortable silence, fingers entwined, sparks flying between us while adrenaline pumps through my veins.

12

HARRY

The tasteof Ruby is on my lips all the way back to the hotel. I don’t make eye contact with anyone; I don’t want them to suspect that I’ve had my face buried between her legs. I have never tasted anything so sweet, and rather than shying away from it, Ruby couldn’t get enough of the taste of her on my tongue. Which only makes me want her more.

It’s hard to walk. My legs feel weak, and my cock is throbbing for her.

But there was no way I was going to fuck her quickly in a hidden courtyard, so that we didn’t get caught. I allowed myself to get caught up in the moment—Ruby’s moment—but now we’re going to finish this my way.

At the hotel reception, I ask the concierge to send a bottle of champagne up to our room. Ruby’s lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, frost clinging to her hair. And she is even more beautiful than she was the first time I met her.

When we reach our hotel room, I start filling the bathtub and drizzle passion fruit scented bath oil into the steaming water.

Without a word, I lead Ruby into the bathroom and slowly undress her, one item of clothing at a time, until she is standing in front of me naked. I’ve imagined this moment many times since the accident, but none of my dreams ever came close to the reality of Ruby Jackson. Her skin is creamy smooth, unblemished apart from a tiny, perfect birthmark on her inner thigh.

Ruby isn’t shy. She watches me studying her the way she might watch a gangly-legged fawn learning to stand for the first time, a faint smile playing on her lips.

I undress myself, wishing that my arm wasn’t in plaster. I want to be as perfect for her as she is for me, but this can’t wait. Not now. Not when I have already tasted her, and I need her like a drug.

I offer Ruby my hand and help her into the tub, then I climb in and sit facing her, the bubbles bobbing against her naked breasts. She doesn’t try to cover herself but watches me with wide, eager eyes, lips parted expectantly.

I pour soap onto the sponge and take her left hand—starting with her fingertips, I smooth it the length of her arm, across her shoulders, and down her right arm, goosebumps popping gently on her skin and tracking my journey. And Ruby watches me the whole time. I wash her legs, raising them one at a time above the tub, and tracing the glistening skin with my eyes. I wash her breasts, resisting the urge to suck her nipples, then her stomach and her back, Ruby arching her spine to accommodate me, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Still, she doesn’t take her eyes off me, like she’s relishing every single moment.

At some point, room service knocks and leaves the bottle of champagne I requested in the room, departing again like a whisper.

Rinsing Ruby off, I offer her my hand and help her out of the bath, our wet bodies sliding against each other and making my hard cock throb.

I could take her here. I feel every inch of her against me. Wet and slippery. I picture hoisting her up onto me, damp legs wrapped around my waist, my cock teasing her moist slit, as I slam her against the wall and fuck her ‘till she begs me to stop.

It would satisfy the ache building up inside me. Fuck, it would satisfy both of us, but Ruby deserves better than a messy, frantic fuck in a hotel bathroom.

“Harry,” she murmurs and I press my finger to her lips. We’re doing this my way.

Reaching blindly for a fluffy white towel, I wrap it around her shoulders, drinking in the curve of her collarbone, the dip at the base of her throat, the swell of her breasts. The ache in my balls swells to bursting point. All in white, she’s even more perfect to me.

When I pick her up, Ruby instinctively slides her arms around my neck, legs swinging over my arm like a bride being carried over the threshold. This… This is everything I wanted and more as I lay her down gently on the king-size bed.

Her lips part.

I’ve kept her waiting long enough.

I pop the cork from the champagne bottle, fill two crystal flutes, the bubbles simmering towards the rim and then settling down again, and hand a glass to Ruby.

“Cheers.” I clink my glass against hers and take a sip, the bubbles fizzing on my gums.

I take another mouthful and don’t swallow. Instead, I set our drinks aside, lean over Ruby, our lips touching, and drizzle the liquid into her mouth. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she pulls me down on top of her. Her kisses are passionate, demanding, greedy. Ruby’s lips cling to mine until I remove her arms from my neck and pull away from her.

“I want to look at you, Ruby.” Unwrapping her from the towel like a Christmas gift, I kiss her neck, her earlobes, her throat, tracing her contours with my lips. “You’re so beautiful. I want to spend the rest of my life looking at you.”

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