Page 110 of Ruthless God

Not when he looks like that.

Claudius drops the basket and sinks onto the blanket, stretching out, one arm draping lazily over his knee.

His board shorts ride lower when he leans back slightly, muscles shifting under tanned skin.

I swallow. Damn it.

Focus.

I settle beside him, pretending not to notice the way his eyes trail down my legs.

He pulls out a bottle of wine, two glasses, a small assortment of fruits and cheeses. It’s casual but deliberate.

Everything with Claudius is.

“This is nice.” My voice comes out a little too breathless.

His smirk is slow, teasing. “Told you I’d make it worth your time.”

I roll my eyes, reaching for a piece of pineapple, taking my time biting into it.

His gaze dips to my lips.

He doesn’t even try to hide it.

The tension tightens to something thick and humming between us.

I chew, swallow, then offer him a piece, holding it just far enough away that he has to lean in.

He does.

But instead of taking it with his hand, his lips brush my fingers as he bites down.

A flicker of heat shoots through me.

I exhale slowly.

He chews, watching me with knowing amusement. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all.”

We go back and forth like that. Small gestures, unspoken dares, every movement deliberate.

A game neither of us is willing to lose.

The problem?

The tension isn’t breaking.

It’s tightening. Curling. Pulling us in.

And eventually, one of us is going to snap. The question is, who will be first?

The game continues. The space between us shrinks, each movement deliberate. A test. A tease.

Claudius leans back on one arm, watching me with a smirk that says he knows exactly what I’m doing.

But he doesn’t stop me.

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