Page 51 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

My ears burn hot, and I turn to look away, but he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I am taking you on a real date. No contract. No commands. Just us, okay?”

My throat tightens, a lump forming that I can’t quite swallow. The words “just us” echo in my mind, soft and disarming. No contract. No commands. Just us. The idea feels foreign, dangerous even, but I can’t deny the way it makes my chest ache in a way I don’t fully understand.

“Okay.” I whisper, enthralled by the minty breath that leaves his lips and flows over my cheeks.

His thumb lingers on my chin for a moment longer, his touch firm but not unkind, and I swear his eyes soften as they search mine. Then he lets go, turning to grab his watch from the vanity. The light catches on the sleek silver face, but it’s not the watch that holds my attention.

It’s him.

The way the muscles in his back flex and move beneath the black knit polo, stretching the fabric in a way that seems almost indecent. The polo is tucked into tailored black slacks, the kind that sit low on his hips and leave just enough to the imagination. The subtle sheen of the Gucci belt catches the light, but it’s the matted black buckle and matching loafers that complete the picture.

He looks like sin personified.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my thoughts from spiraling further, but it doesn’t help. My eyes are glued to him, tracing every line and dip of his body, every controlled movement as he fastens the watch and adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. He did this for me, and it’s almost too much to process.

“You’re staring,” he says without turning around, his voice low and teasing.

I snap my gaze to the floor, cheeks blazing. “No, I’m not.”

He chuckles softly, the sound like velvet against my skin. “Liar.”

Before I can come up with a witty retort—not that I have one—he turns back to me, his gaze sweeping over me like a slow caress. His lips curve into a satisfied smirk, but there’s something deeper in his eyes, something that makes my pulse quicken and my knees feel unsteady. “Come down when you’re ready.”

I take a moment to collect myself before descending the staircase, the soft click of my heels against the polished wood echoing in the quiet. His gaze finds me instantly, and he watches me with a stillness that makes my breath catch. By the time I reach the bottom step, his hand is already extended, warm and steady as it closes over mine.

He lifts my hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over my knuckles with a reverence that sends a shiver up my spine. “You look exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, a touch of awe slipping through the polished control.

Still holding my hand, he leads me outside to the waiting limo, the car gleaming under the soft glow of the streetlights.

The ride begins in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound, but it’s a comfortable quiet, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Myeyes wander to the city lights outside the window, flickering in the darkness like scattered jewels.

“You’re quiet,” he says softly, drawing my attention back to him.

I meet his gaze, tilting my head. “Just...taking it all in.”

He smiles faintly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “I don’t blame you. I’ve been doing the same all night.”

I arch a brow, unsure what he means. “What do you mean?”

“You,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact, though there’s a rawness beneath it that makes my breath hitch. “I’ve wanted to take you out for years. And now that you’re here...it feels surreal.”

The admission hangs in the air, stealing any response I might have had. My chest tightens, and I glance down at my hands in my lap, trying to steady myself.

“Why didn’t you?” I ask softly, the words escaping before I can stop them.

“Timing,” he says simply, though his jaw tightens slightly, as though there’s more he’s not saying. “But I wasn’t going to wait forever.”

There’s a quiet intensity in his voice that makes it impossible to look away, my pulse quickening under his unwavering gaze.

I clear my throat, searching for something to lighten the mood. “Well, I hope I’m living up to the anticipation.”

His lips curve into a slow, devastating smile. “You have no idea.”

The weight of his words lingers as the car glides to a stop. I expect a bustling restaurant or a private dining room. Instead,I’m greeted by something far more unexpected. A theater, but no one is even in the lobby, the space is completely ours.

“Where is everyone?” I whisper, walking slightly ahead of him.

He chuckles softly, his palm warm and steady against the small of my back. “I wanted us to have some privacy, Princess. It’s just us here—well, aside from the attendants and one discreet waiter.”

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