Page 45 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

“It’s the concussion. I’m cleared, yeah, but every time I get on the ice now, I’m in my own head. I don’t know if I can trust my body the way I used to.” He looks away for a moment, hisjaw tightening. “It messes with you more than you think. And I don’t want to go back out there until I’m sure I can play like I did before.”

I scoot closer, my fingers grazing his knee.“You need to clear your mind before you get back on the ice.”

Damien gives a short, humorless laugh. “You think so?”

I lean in, my lips curling into a teasing smile. “Yup, and I know just how to do it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How?”

I push one strap of my sundress down and Damien follows the fabric with heated eyes.

“Willow, what are you doing?” he murmurs, his voice rough, strained.

I roll my eyes, feigning nonchalance as I push the other strap down, the dress pooling around my waist. “Clearing your mind, obviously.” My smirk widens, and I can see the way his jaw tightens, the way his hands flex like he’s fighting the urge to grab me.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me with those dark, intense eyes. I can feel the heat of his gaze like a physical touch, and it only makes me bolder. I shift, straddling his lap, the blanket beneath us soft against my knees. The park is quiet, the willow tree above us casting dappled shadows over his face. It’s just us here, hidden from the world.

“You’re overthinking,” I whisper, leaning in until my lips brush his ear. “Stop fighting it.”

His breath hitches, and I feel his hands finally settle on my hips, fingers digging into my skin. “You’re a distraction,” he growls, but there’s no real anger in his voice. Just hunger.

“Good,” I say, nipping at his earlobe. “That’s the point.”

I pull back slightly, enough to see the way his chest rises and falls, the way his eyes are already clouded with desire. I press my hands against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms.

I lean in again, my lips brushing against his as I whisper, “You’re not gonna break me, Damien. I can take it.”

With a low growl, he flips us, his body pressing mine into the blanket. The weight of him is intoxicating, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips as his mouth crashes into mine. His kiss is hungry, desperate, and I match him every step of the way, my fingers running across the nape of his neck into the prickle of his buzz cut.

When he pulls back, his lips are swollen, his eyes wild. “You’re gonna regret this,” he warns.

“Doubt it,” I breathe, arching into him.

He doesn’t waste any more time. His hands are everywhere, pulling the rest of my dress off, leaving me bare beneath him. The cool air brushes against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his body. His mouth finds my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair.

“You’re such a little tease,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough. “Always pushing, always testing me.”

“And you love it,” I manage to say, my voice trembling as his lips trail lower.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, I hear the click of his belt and the zip of his jeans as his mouth moves lower, closing over one nipple, and I cry out, my back arching off theblanket. He’s ruthless, his tongue swirling and teasing until I’m writhing beneath him.

“Damien,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting mine as he shifts, sliding his cock from his jeans and positioning himself between my legs. “You wanted this,” he says, his voice low, dangerous. “So take it.”

And then he’s inside me, and I’m gasping, my nails digging into his back. He’s big, always has been, and the stretch is almost too much, but god, it’s exactly what I need. He moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust, but I don’t want slow. I want him to lose control, to forget everything but this.

“Faster,” I demand, my voice shaking.

He growls, low and deep in his chest, and obliges, his hips snapping against mine. The sound of skin against skin fills the air, and I can’t help the noises that escape my lips. He’s relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, and I can feel the coil of pleasure tightening in my stomach.

But then he leans down, his lips brushing against my ear, and the words he whispers send a whole new wave of heat through me.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice dark, husky. “Being fucked like a little slut in the middle of a park.”

My breath catches, and I feel my face flush, but instead of shame, all I feel is need. I love it. I love the way his words make me feel, the way they make me burn.

“Yes,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his back.

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