Page 26 of Tears of Ruin

Richard exhaled through his nose, shifting just slightly, just enough that my touch deepened. The way he reacted—eyes half-lidded, body going perfectly still, as if waiting for me to decide—made something coil tight in my gut.

I swallowed hard. My fingers curled, pressing in, caressing over the soft skin under my touch. And then, he moved.

A slow lean forward, his head tilting, his heat brushing against me. He made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a pleased hum, and the warmth of it sent shivers through me.

I stood there, still as death as his fingers brushed my cheek. Barely there. Just the whisper of a touch. His knuckles grazed my skin, and I ached from it.

I didn’t know what I was doing when I turned into the touch.

Didn’t know what I was thinking when I let my eyes briefly flutter closed, my breath hitching as he traced the angle of my jaw, as his fingers ghosted over my lips.

Naked, sweat-damp, and looking at me like I was something holy. I sucked in a breath, pulse stuttering.

He was still close, his chest rising and falling. His lips were parted, his golden-brown lashes low over burning eyes, the weight of them stealing every single thought from my head.

I should have taken a step back, but I didn’t.

Richard moved first, his fingertips grazing the underside of my jaw, tilting my chin up with agonizing slowness. I shuddered at the contact, at the sheer heat of him, at the way his thumb lingered against my skin like he was memorizing the shape of me.

His breath was warm against my lips when he finally spoke.

“I won’t hurt you.”

God help me. I believed him.

Then he kissed me. Steady, like a promise before a storm.

His lips were warm, soft, but firm, coaxing, testing.

I gasped, and Richard answered. His hand slid into my hair, fingertips pressing against the nape of my neck, holding me in place like he thought I might slip away.

Like he was afraid to lose me.

I kissed him back, leaned in, hands catching his wrists, my chest pressing flush to his. He inhaled sharply through his nose, and his mouth opened beneath mine, deepening, tasting, taking.

I didn’t pull away. Because Richard kissed me like I was worth it. Like I was something worth holding on to.

And I wanted to believe him, even if it ruined me.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t have an escape plan.

Because I didn’t want to run.

Chapter Seven

Noam

Richard didn’t rush me. His mouth lingered on mine, coaxing rather than taking. I was nothing more than trembling limbs and tense muscles.

Everything inside me was tight, tangled in knots I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to untie. Letting someone touch me like this? Letting someone see me like this? I didn’t do that. Ever.

But the sight of him, his taste… I could get addicted to both. Especially since he was going slow, letting me get used to his mouth on mine, his strong fingers trailing up and down my neck and leaving me a trembling mess.

Again and again, his tongue thrust into my mouth, his hands mapping out my arms and back. I wanted more. Needed more. Desperate for soft touches instead of cruel ones. Richard was making me crave things I never dared dream of.

His fingernails scraped my scalp, sending ripples of pleasure through me, causing me to shiver. My eyelids fluttered closed, his warm lips trailing down my neck.

Oh, god. The sensations flooding my body were causing some part of me, which had been locked down for years, buried beneath instinct and survival and fear, to crash toward the surface. Searing, raw, electrifying, Richard took over my senses, leaving no doubt who was in control, even if he was taking his time exploring me.

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