Page 130 of Ruin My Life
Hesitation.
Not fear, but uncertainty.
I pull back, giving her space, even as my heart pounds against my ribs like it’s trying to break out.
Her chest rises and falls like she’s been running. Her eyes flick down to where I hover between her thighs, then up to my chest, my mouth, anywhere but my eyes.
I want nothing more than to bury my cock inside her warm, slick pussy, feel her grip me like a vice. But I won’t if she’s having second thoughts.
There’s no part of me that wants this enough to hurt her.
I lift a hand to her chin, pin it gently between my thumb and forefinger, and tilt her gaze back to mine. I pull back every mask I’ve ever worn in front of her.
The hardened killer.
The sarcastic asshole.
The obsessive protector.
I strip away every layer until she can see the me that lies beneath—the me that I’ve only ever shown to the people I trust.
The man who cares too strongly, loves too deeply.
Because I’m falling in love with her. God help me, I am.
I want to give her every ounce of air in my lungs, every pint of blood in my veins, every second left of my life—just to make her feel safe and secure.
More than anything, I want her to trust me.
Even though I don’t deserve it.
I want to study her thoughts, map every shadow in her mind, carefully reconstruct her walls until there’s a little door where she can let me in, even when she wants to keep the rest of the world out.
“Say the word and this stops,” I whisper, every syllable weighed down by honesty. “There’s nothing in this world that could stop me from wanting you. But you canalwaysstop me from touching you. If it’s not what you want, just say it. I may have trained these hands to kill, but they were always designed to protect.”
Her eyes hold mine, unblinking.
A single heartbeat passes, but it feels like a lifetime compressed into one suspended breath.
Then, slowly, her hands rise. They land flat on my chest, and my gut twists—I think she’s going to push me away.
So I start to pull back.
But there’s no push. No retreat. Her palms slowly slide over my shoulders before her fingers lace behind my neck.
Her grip anchors me.Keepsme here.
“I want this,” she breathes. “Ineedit.”
My chest tightens at her words.
I lower again, guided by the tether of her hands, and she meets me halfway with a kiss that’s nothing like the last. It’s softer, cautious even.
She’s treading carefully—like I’m foreign.
Like we didn’t just kiss like animals in the living room.
Like she hasn’t already come all over my fingers tonight.
