Page 72 of Ruthless God

My stomach drops. My eyes bug.

“Why on earth would I want to kiss you?”

He shrugs, entirely too calm for someone who just threw a grenade between us.

“To prove that you’re not into me.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Is this some kind of freaky thing because you know I slept with Gabriel?”

His expression hardens instantly.

“This has nothing to do with him,” he growls, voice rough and dangerous.

The air between us shifts, thickens. Charged. Unstable. And then I act without thinking. I lift onto my toes, grabbing onto his shirt. And I kiss him.

The moment my lips touch his, it’s like something snaps. Claudius goes still. For a fraction of a second, it’s just that—a press of lips, a test, a dare. Then he moves. His hand shoots out, curling around the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he yanks me closer. A sharp, startled gasp escapes me, but he swallows it.

The kiss turns hungry, punishing, consuming. His mouth claims mine like he’s been waiting for this, like it’s been simmering under his skin, waiting to detonate. And I? I should pull away. I should shove him back, end this before it’s too late. But I lean in.

My fingers grip his shirt, fisting the fabric as his other hand slides down my back, pressing me against him. Heat coils low in my stomach.

I hate him.

I hate him for challenging me, for provoking me, for making me feel like I have something to prove. But what I hate even more is this kiss, because it feels so damn good.

His teeth graze my bottom lip, a teasing scrape that sends a shudder down my spine. I retaliate, biting back, earning a low, satisfied growl from deep in his chest.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, he pulls away. Breathing hard. His eyes are stormy, burning, lethal. And I feel wrecked. Shaken. Like I just crossed a line I can’t uncross.

Claudius smirks, thumb brushing across my swollen lips, eyes gleaming with pure, wicked satisfaction.

“Not jealous, huh?”

Bastard.

“Hard to say,” I shoot back, my voice dripping with challenge. “You were kissing me pretty hard there, Claudius.”

As I say the word ‘hard’, my gaze flickers downward. Just for a second. I don’t mean to. I can’t help it. And, oh. He’s hard.

My breath catches.

My gaze snaps back up, only to find heat staring right back at me. His lips part, his breathing controlled but heavy. Something in his expression shifts. Something primal and unrestrained.

A slow smirk curves his lips.

“Careful, Cecely.” His voice is gravel and silk, smooth but laced with warning. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to think you want something.”

I lift my chin, refusing to back down.

“Maybe I do.”

His eyes flash, something feral sparking beneath the surface.

“You really want to test me right now?”

The space between us shrinks. The air grows thick. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer power of his presence pressing against my every nerve. I should walk away. I should say something smart, deflect, break the moment.

But I hold his stare.

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