Page 59 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

I can’t wait any longer. My hands move to the waistband of her pants, fumbling with the button before sliding them down herlegs. She steps out of them, her bare skin glowing in the dim light of the basement.

I kneel in front of her, my hands running up her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin. She shivers under my touch, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

“I want you to feel this,” I murmur, my mouth moving closer to her core. She lets out a soft cry as my tongue finds her, tasting her, savoring the sweetness of her arousal.

“Cast,” she moans, her hands gripping my hair as I devour her. Her hips move against my mouth, her body seeking more, needing more.

“You're my little killer,” I say as I pull back slightly, looking up at her. “Say it,” I demand, my voice rough with desire.

“I’m your little killer,” she whimpers, her eyes dark with need.

I stand, pulling her into my arms as I back her towards the cold, hard surface of the table. She doesn’t resist, her body following mine, her hands gripping my shoulders as I lift her onto the edge.

I step between her legs, my hands moving to her hips as I position myself at her entrance. She’s wet, ready for me, and I can feel her trembling with anticipation.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice low and husky.

“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes locked on mine.

I push into her, slowly, letting her feel every inch of me as I fill her. She gasps, her head falling back as she arches into me, her body welcoming mine.

“God, Willow,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips as I begin to move. She’s tight, so tight, and the way she feels around me is almost too much.

“Cast,” she moans, her hands tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer, her lips finding mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

I lose myself in her, in the way she feels, the way she moves. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed. And as we move together, as our bodies become one, I know that she’s mine, completely and utterly mine.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Fuck, Cariña,” I growl, my thrusts becoming harder, faster. “You belong to me,” I say, my voice a growl that echoes in the stillness of the basement. “Every part of you. Your body. Your mind. Your soul.”

She nods, her lips parting slightly as she exhales. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling but unwavering. “Yes, please.”

She cries out, her body clenching around mine as she reaches her peak. I follow her, my own release crashing over me as I bury myself deep inside her.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies pressed together, our breaths mingling as we come down from the high. I pull back slightly, looking down at her, seeing the satisfaction, the contentment in her eyes.

“Killer,” I whisper, my voice filled with possessiveness.

“Killer,” she replies, her voice soft but filled with conviction.

I press my forehead against hers one last time, grounding us in this moment before the outside world claws its way back in.Then, the sound of my phone vibrating against the side table snaps the silence.

I exhale sharply, frustration simmering beneath my skin as I pull away from her. I don’t want to leave this moment, I don't want to step back into business when she’s laying here, blood on her hands, looking like she was made for me.

But I have no choice.

I step away, moving toward the side table cluttered with the instruments of torture I’d laid out earlier. The scent of iron is thick, the tools still glistening with Tomas’s blood. I pick up the phone, wiping my fingers on a cloth before answering.

“What?” I say, my voice sharp, impatient.

On the other end, Matteo doesn’t waste time. “We found Ricardo’s daughter.”

22

VINCENT

Pain ripsthrough my legs like a live wire, the fire spreading with every step I force myself to take. My fingers tighten around the parallel bars, the sweat making my grip slippery, but I don’t let go. I can’t.

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