Page 51 of Ruger's Rage

He stands with me wrapped around him, carrying me the few steps to my bedroom.

My back hits the mattress, and he follows me down, his weight pressing me into the sheets in a way that should feel threatening but somehow doesn't.

Our clothes disappear in a desperate flurry.

When he's finally naked above me, I take a moment to admire the tattoos covering his legs and the way they flow around to his back, the play of muscles beneath inked skin.

"You're gorgeous," I breathe, tracing a pattern that winds around his upper thigh.

"I was just thinking the same about you." His eyes roam over my body with an intensity that makes me flush. "Fuck, Tildie, you're perfect."

His hand slides between my thighs, finding me already wet for him.

I cry out when his fingers circle the most sensitive part of me, pleasure spiking sharp and sudden.

"Need you," I gasp, reaching between us to wrap my hand around his hard cock. "Now."

"Protection," he starts, but I shake my head.

"I'm on birth control. And I'm clean. Got tested after..."

Understanding flashes in his eyes. After Marco. After losing the baby.

"I'm clean too," he assures me. "Get tested regularly."

That's all the discussion we need.

He positions himself at my entrance, searching my face one last time for permission.

I answer by lifting my hips, taking him in an inch.

He slides home in one slow thrust that steals my breath away.

For a moment, we're perfectly still, adjusting to the sensation of being joined.

"Okay?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

"More than okay," I assure him, rolling my hips experimentally. "Move, Ruger. Please."

He sets a rhythm that has me clinging to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.

Each thrust pushes me higher, closer to the edge I haven't fallen over with another person in far too long.

"Look at me," he commands softly, and I open my eyes I didn't even realize I closed. "I want to see you come apart."

The intensity in his gaze is my undoing.

Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me as I shatter around him, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

He follows soon after, his rhythm faltering as he pulses inside me, face buried in my neck as he groans my name.

After, he doesn't roll away.

Instead, he gathers me against his chest, one hand stroking my hair as our breathing gradually slows.

"Stay," I whisper, surprising myself with the request. "Tonight. Please."

His arms tighten around me. "Wasn't planning on going anywhere."

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