Page 32 of Tears of Ruin

“Noam,” he answered softly, his brows knitted together.

My lips curled into a smile. “A temptress. You here to steal my soul,chiton?”

“No.” His eyes rounded once again, as if afraid I would actually think that.

I kissed my way across his jaw, smiling when he suppressed a small moan. I wanted to be back inside of him, coaxing every sound of pleasure from his throat as he clawed at my back. I could honestly live inside of his body, drugging myself with his kisses as I drowned in his touch.

His mouth teased mine, kitten kisses meant to test, maybe even push slightly against his own boundaries. Like he wanted to break free from the fear holding him back from taking what he wanted.

If taking was what he wanted, he could have every piece of my unworthy soul.

When Noam pulled back, he appeared dazed. I chuckled, nipping his chin tenderly. “Lose a few brain cells?”

“More than a few,” he admitted, scooting even closer, as if we weren’t already pressed so close we should’ve merged into one.

His gaze lowered to my chest, curiosity clear in his hazel eyes. I didn’t move. If he wanted to explore my body, I wasn’t foolish enough to stop him.

“What’s that pendant around your neck?”

Instant mood killer. It was a subject I didn’t want to touch. But I’d told Noam to ask me anything.

Anything except that.

It was more like a weighted burden, choking me at times until my lungs burned for relief.

“Richard?” Noam blinked at me, his beautiful features pinched in wariness. I was sure he’d seen the faraway look in my eyes. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He was giving me a choice. My little kitten knew what it felt like to be rendered powerless, and he was leaving the decision up to me.

I swallowed roughly, telling myself to walk away from Noam, because those I cared about died.

But the thought of shutting him out of my life, of ripping away the solace he’d found in my arms… God help me, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bear the thought of becoming just one more person who’d let him down.

“It’s a reminder of what happens…” I cupped his cheek, unwilling to tell him it was a reminder of what happened when I lost control. Of the blood that soaked my hands.

I didn’t want Noam to fear me.

“When a temper is behind those weapons,” he finished for me, reminding me of the conversation we had the first day we’d met.

I waited for him to run from me, to recoil from my touch. He knew. There was a glint of awareness in his eyes. I was a killer, just another fucking monster in his life.

Instead, he pressed his trembling hand against my chest, his body quivering. I wanted to pull him close, to comfort him, but I waited, dread pooling in my gut.

“Am I safe with you, Richard?”

That wasn’t what I expected him to say. Caught off guard, I had to redirect my thoughts. Then I gave him the truth.

“No one could be any safer,chaton.”

Because I would drench my hands in the blood of anyone who dared to harm him.

He had defied logic by breaching the barrier of the castle, had caused my phoenix to stir under his touch.

But most importantly, Noam—a man who had suffered unbelievable abuse, who had lived in survival mode for so long—had given me his trust.

His body.

His acceptance.

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