Page 63 of Ruined

I comply, my fingers curling around the cool marble edge. His body radiates heat behind me, making me hyper aware of my nakedness, of how exposed I am to him.

His hand slides down my stomach, between my legs. When his fingers find me, I'm already slick and ready. He slips one finger inside me, then another, his movements deliberate and controlled.

"You're so wet for me," he murmurs against my ear.

I bite my lip as he works his fingers deeper, curling them to hit a spot that makes my knees buckle. His other arm wraps around my waist, holding me up as he continues his relentless pace.

"Noah," I whimper, my head falling back against his shoulder.

He withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving me aching and empty. Before I can protest, he brings his glistening fingers to my lips.

"Taste yourself," he orders.

I hesitate for a moment, then part my lips. He slides his fingers into my mouth and I taste my own arousal on his skin. A groan escapes me as I suck his fingers clean.

"Good girl," he says, his approval sending a thrill through me.

Then he steps back, breaking all contact. The sudden absence of his body heat makes me shiver.

"Don't move," he commands. "Stay exactly like that."

I remain frozen, hands gripping the counter, my body humming with need. I hear him moving behind me, the rustle of clothing being removed. The anticipation is almost unbearable.

After what feels like an eternity I feel him return. His naked body presses to mine, his hardness evident against my lower back.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now," he says, his hands grasping my hips.

I feel him position himself at my entrance, teasing me with just the tip. My breath catches in my throat when he shoves forward, filling me completely in one smooth thrust.

Noah stretches me in the most delicious way. I gasp, my fingers tightening on the counter's edge until my knuckles turn white.

"Fuck," he growls in my ear, his hips flush against my backside. "You feel so good around me."

He pulls back slowly, almost completely withdrawing before slamming back into me. The force of his thrust pushes me into the counter and I cry out, a sound I barely recognize as my own.

"More," I say, surprising myself with my own hunger.

Noah's grip on my hips tightens. "What was that?" His voice is rough, demanding.

"More," I say louder, pushing back against him. "Please, Noah."

He rewards my begging with a series of deep, powerful plunges that make my vision blur. Each stroke hits something perfect inside me, building a pressure that threatens to shatter me completely.

"Look at you," he says, his voice strained with effort. "Taking me so well."

One of his hands slides up my spine to tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to arch my back further. The new angle lets him drive even deeper and I moan shamelessly.

"Noah, I'm—I'm close," I pant, feeling the tension coiling tighter in my core.

"Not yet," he commands, slowing his pace torturously. "Not until I say so."

I whimper in frustration, my body trembling with need. Noah leans forward, his chest pressing against my back as he continues his slow, deep thrusts. His lips brush my ear.

"You're mine now," he says. "Say it."

Part of me wants to refuse, to maintain some final shred of resistance. But my body betrays me, craving his touch, his possession.

"I'm yours," I breathe, and the words feel like both surrender and victory.

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