Page 44 of Made For Ruin

Marcus pushesme against the cabin door the moment we step inside, his hand fisting my hair as his mouth claims mine.

“Fuck, baby you drive me wild,” he growls against my lips. “Wanted to bend you over my knee right there in the fucking bar.”

I moan into the kiss, my hands scrabbling at his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” I pant when he breaks away to bite at my jaw.

“No?”

“No.”

He makes a rough sound, almost a snarl, and suddenly spins me around.

“Then go to the bedroom and strip,” he commands.

I bite back a moan. “S-strip?”

“Strip, baby,” he repeats as he trails his hand up my jaw. “I want you naked and kneeling in the center of the bed when I get there.”

I practically run to the bedroom as I hurry to obey, shedding my clothes as I go.

Ever since I first met Marcus, he’s always been this towering figure of control. Stern, serious, unshakable. The kind of manwho carries the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever letting it show. Like there’s this storm inside him, but he’s built walls so high and so thick that nothing could ever break through.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see him snap—to feel all that pent-up fury, that raw intensity, turned on me. Tonight, those walls are crumbling, and I’m the one standing in the eye of the storm.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

My heart is a wild drum beat in my chest as I kneel in the center of the bed and hear Marcus’s heavy footsteps approach.

Then the door creaks open, and he enters, still fully dressed, and slowly circles the bed. I keep my eyes downcast and fight the urge to squirm under his appraising gaze.

Finally, Marcus sits in the leather armchair by the fireplace. He leans back, the picture of calm control. But I can see the bulge straining against his jeans.

His voice is a dark rasp. “Crawl to me.”

I slowly crawl off the bed and make my way across the floor to him, swaying my hips. I feel sexy and powerful, even in this submissive position. When I reach him, I sit back on my heels and look up at him through my lashes.

“Good girl,” Marcus praises, running a hand over my hair.

I press into his touch, craving more. He cups my chin, making me meet his heated gaze.

“I’m going to spank you, baby. Ten swats to this pretty little ass.” He runs a possessive hand over the curve of my hip. “I’ll start gently, but each one will be a little harder. If it gets to be too much, just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately. Understand?”

My body thrums with desire. “Yes, I understand.”

“What’s your color now?” Marcus prompts.

“Green,” I breathe.

I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want this, want him, with every fiber of my being.

“Good. Now stand up and bend over my lap.”

I rise from the floor and drape myself across his muscular thighs, my stomach fluttering wildly as he caresses my bare ass.

The first swat takes me by surprise, a sharp sting that quickly melts into warm pleasure. I gasp and arch into his hand.

“That’s one. Count them for me.” Marcus’s voice is rough with arousal.

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