Page 114 of Ruthless God

I glare. “You’re evil.”

He laughs, and damn it, it’s a beautiful sound.

“You have no idea.”

Then, in one swift motion, he drops us both beneath the surface. The water surrounds us, cool and refreshing, but it does nothing to dull the heat burning between us.

Claudius emerges first, droplets of sliding down his bald head. Down his face. To the hard planes of his chest.

I barely have a second to catch my breath before he’s on me again. His hands find my waist, pulling me against him, my legs wrapping around his hips. The ocean rocks us gently, but his grip is firm and possessive, as if even the ocean couldn’t tear us apart.

I shudder as his lips find my neck, his breath hot against my damp skin.

“Still think I’m evil?” he murmurs against my throat.

I can’t answer. Not when his hands are roaming, teasing, gripping. Not when I can feel all of him pressing into me beneath the water. I dig my nails into his shoulders, rocking against him just enough to make him curse under his breath.

“You’re playing with fire,” he growls, his voice full of warning.

“Then burn me.”

That’s all it takes.

His mouth crashes against mine, the kiss deep, consuming, utterly wrecking. The waves lap at our skin, but I barely notice when his hands slide down, gripping my thighs, lifting me just enough?—

And then he fills me, stretching me, claiming me all over again. I gasp, my head falling back, the stars above us blurring as he moves. His grip is firm, relentless, his mouth never straying far from my skin.

I never stood a chance.

Each roll of his hips drags me deeper, wrecks me further, pulls me toward a pleasure so intense I feel like I might shatter.

We don’t rush.

We take our time, letting the tension coil and tighten, letting the need build until I’m grasping at him, trembling, begging.

And when we finally fall over the edge together, it’s not just pleasure.

It’s something more. Something dangerous. Something that feels a hell of a lot like surrender. Maybe even love.

The waves lap at our skin, gentle and rhythmic, as we catch our breath together. I feel weightless, boneless, completely undone. And for once, I don’t mind it. Claudius still holds me, his arms strong and steady, his grip firm but not demanding. For a man who always seems in control, always calculating his next move, right now, he just… is.

And neither of us rush to change that.

I let my head rest against his shoulder, my fingers tracing slow, idle patterns along his damp skin. His breathing is even now, but his heartbeat beneath my palm isn’t. Mine isn’t either.

This is different. Not just the fire between us. Not just the desperation, the hunger, the absolute loss of restraint. This feelsdeeper. Heavier. Like something shifted. Like something we can’t take back.

Claudius exhales, his fingers grazing the small of my back, slow and deliberate.

“You okay?” His voice is lower, softer than I’ve ever heard it.

I nod, but don’t pull away. Neither does he. The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable. It’s full, like we’re both standing at the edge of something bigger. Something neither of us is ready to name.

Finally, I break the silence. “That was…” I trail off, struggling for the right words.

His grip tightens slightly. “Yeah.” His voice dips even lower. “I don’t do this, Cecely.”

I lift my head, my gaze meeting his. “Do what?”

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