Page 99 of Ruthless God

I open my mouth to answer, but the only sound that escapes is a sharp gasp as he shifts beneath me, his hands tightening, pulling me closer.

Oh. My. God.

A flush spreads down my neck, my body betraying me, responding to him faster than my mind can keep up.

His lips brush against my jaw, my throat, his breath warm, teasing, every touch calculated. I tilt my head back slightly, giving him silent permission and he takes it, his mouth trailing lower, his grip firm and unwavering. Everything about him is controlled, like he’s savoring every second.

But me? I feel like I’m unraveling.

A small, satisfied growl rumbles in his chest.

“You have no idea what you’ve started.” His voice is thicker now, rougher, filled with something dangerously close to need.

I swallow hard, my fingers still gripping his shirt, my body buzzing with anticipation. And as his lips claim mine again, I know I’m past the point of stopping.

I barely have time to catch my breath before he’s kissing me again. This time, it’s different. More than just a tease. More than just control. There’s hunger behind it now, like something inside him snapped. Like he’s done waiting. His hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. And oh my god.

There’s no mistaking what he wants now.

Heat floods through me, my body betraying me completely, because instead of pulling away I move closer, rocking against him until I feel a spark in my core.

A rough groan rumbles from his chest. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Cecely.”

His voice is ragged, his breath hot against my skin, but his grip on me stays firm, keeping me exactly where he wants me.

The worst part?

I don’t care.

I tell him, “Who’s playing games?”

I shift slightly, pressing against him just enough to pull a reaction from him, and I feel the way his body tenses. His fingersdig into my waist, tight, possessive, before he flips me onto my back.

The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp, but before I can react, he’s already above me, between my legs, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

The bed feels massive, yet somehow, it feels like there’s no space left between us.

His hand trails down my side, slow and deliberate, teasing, torturing.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my neck.

I gasp as his fingers graze bare skin, every touch setting me on fire.

“Then show me,” I whisper back, my voice unrecognizable.

His head snaps up, and for the first time tonight, I see something unguarded in his eyes. Something raw. Something dark. Then his lips crash into mine, and I stop thinking altogether.

I shudder as his teeth graze my skin, not quite biting, but just enough to make me gasp.

“You started this,” I manage to whisper, pulling him closer.

He chuckles. It’s a deep, wicked sound that sends a pulse of heat straight through me.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasps, “I was never the one in control.”

His fingers slip beneath the hem of my shorts, trailing fire in their wake, teasing, testing, making my breath catch in my throat. He’s in no rush. He’s savoring this, like he’s memorizing every reaction, every shiver, every soft sound that escapes me.

I clutch at his shoulders, feeling his strength beneath my fingers, the tension in his body as controlled as ever, but barely.

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