Page 57 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

His eyes meet mine, dark and hungry, and I can feel the heat pooling low in my belly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “So fucking beautiful, Willow. I don’t know how I survived without you.”

His hands slide up my thighs, pushing them apart, and I feel the heat of him as he steps between my legs. His fingers brush against the lace of my panties, and I jerk against him, already so sensitive, so desperate for his touch.

“Vincent,” I whimper, my hips lifting off the counter.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine.

“You,” I gasp. “Only you. Always you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, his fingers hooking into the delicate fabric and pulling my panties to the side. His hands are everywhere, touching me, claiming me, and I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.

His mouth crashes against mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as his fingers slide between my thighs, finding the slick heat waiting for him. I cry out against his lips, my hips bucking against his hand as he teases me, his fingers sliding through my wetness.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear.

His fingers slip inside me, and I moan, my head falling back as he curls them, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur. He moves his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, driving me closer to the edge with every touch.

“Vincent, please,” I beg, my voice ragged. “I need you. Now.”

He doesn’t make me wait. He steps back just long enough to pull down his sweats and underwear, shoving them down his legs before he’s back between my thighs. His hands grip my hips, pulling me to the edge of the counter, and I can feel the hard length of him pressing against me.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice rough with need.

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes takes my breath away. There’s so much love, so much desire, so muchneedthat it feels like I’m drowning in him.

“I love you, Willow,” he says, his voice breaking. “I always have. I always will. I will never leave you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, my hands sliding up to cup his face. “I’m sorry, Vincent. I’m so sorry.”

He kisses me again, deep and slow, before he pushes into me, filling me completely. I cry out against his lips, my body arching as he sinks deeper, stretching me, filling me in a way that makes me feel whole for the first time in so long.

“Fuck, Willow,” he groans, his forehead resting against mine. “I could live in this pussy. Fucking die in this pussy.”

He starts to move, his hips grinding against mine in slow, deliberate thrusts. Every stroke sends waves of pleasure through me, and I can’t stop the moans that escape my lips. His hands grip my hips, guiding me as he fucks me with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

“Vincent,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growls, his thrusts growing harder, faster. “I’m never letting you go again, Willow. You’re mine. Always.”

The counter bites into my back with every thrust, but I don’t care. All I care about is him, about the way he feels inside me, about the way he makes me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.

“Vincent,” I moan, my body tightening around him. “I’m close. So close.”

“Come for me,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.

His words are all it takes. My body shatters, pleasure crashing over me in waves as I cling to him, my nails digging into hisskin. He groans, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his release filling me as he buries himself deep inside me.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies pressed together, our breaths mingling as we come down from the high. His hands slide up my back, holding me close, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest.

“Willow,” he kisses my forehead. “I couldn’t leave you if I tried. You are tattooed into my very fucking soul, Princess. Without you there is no me.”

“Vincent-”

“I am telling the truth Willow.” He murmurs into my hair. “You can’t ice me out like that. You can’t push me away. I can’t leave you even if you want me to. You are worse than any addiction, or drug to me. You are my oxygen, Princess.”

“So what happens if we can’t find a transplant to replace my mechanical heart? You can’t die because I can’t live.” I whisper into his chest.

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