Page 48 of Ruined By the Enemy
“Dom,” she cries, squirming as I dip my tongue lower, licking firmly. My name on her lips is a plea and a warning, begging me not to stop. Her knees buckle and close around my head as I slip a finger into her wet heat—a threatened groan pouring from my chest when she clenches tight.
My finger curls as my mouth closes around her clit, sucking softly. I feel every muscle in her body tighten, and the intelligible words that spill out as she teeters on the edge of control.
But it’s not just her.
It’s me. It’s the change that happens when Sophie takes over my head… when she blends with my thoughts in a takeover I’m helpless against.
I groan when another finger thrusts in easily, wet and slick from her. My tongue moves in tight, relentless circles, and I reach up with my free hand, gripping her thigh to keep her exactly where I want her. She trembles—hips jerking, thighs squeezing as her fingers claw into my shoulder for something to hold on to.
“Dom—oh God—” she gasps as her legs try to close again. She’s falling apart.
Right here, right now, and I want her to know I did this to her. I want her to know whoownsher. Because that’s what she does to me.
The need to see her come apart at my hands. At my doing.
I suck harder, curling my fingers just right, stroking against the spot that makes her cry out—and that’s when she breaks.
Her moan shatters as her body locks up and then falls apart, pulsing and convulsing around my fingers while my mouth doesn’t stop, doesn’t ease up, not until she’s begging me to.
“Stop,” she whimpers, pushing at my shoulder with shaky hands. “I—I can’t… Dom, please—”
I lift my head slowly, my lips slick with her release, and look up at her. She’s panting, chest heaving, eyes glazed with the aftershock of her orgasm. Her hair is wild around her face, her lips parted.
“You can,” I murmur against the inside of her thigh. “You will.”
Because I’m not done with her. I’m not even close.
And I know she wants it from the look she gives me when I lift my head. Just like I do.
My hands frame her face, caressing the warmth that turns her cheeks a brighter shade and her slightly swollen lips. Her breath catches… a soft, feminine sound that vibrates against my chest as I deepen the kiss into a slow, languid pace.
“You’re supposed to be angry at me,” she murmurs against my mouth.
“Why?” I ask, my tongue bent on mapping her taste into memory as I kiss the corner of her lips, jaw, and hollow beneath her ear. “Because you lied? Because you’ve been feeding me half-truths and making me question every instinct I have?”
She flinches a little, but I don’t pull away. It’s no longer about the lies or the cautioning voice whispering in my mind.
It’s Sophie, and how soft her skin feels. It’s how much I want to bury my head between her thighs again and make her come for me, while she’s unable to speak.
I move my mouth down her throat, brushing over the rapid pulse there. “I should be angry,” I say into her skin. “You’re right. You did lie to me.”
“Then why aren’t you?” Her voice is a whisper.
My hands tighten enough to make her feel how close I am to breaking my rules. I lift my head so she sees, for once, a glimpse of the truth. “I’ll be damned if I know.”
She tries to speak again, but a finger against her mouth shushes her. “Be quiet. I want to see how long you can stay silent.”
When she moans as my tongue swirls over her nipples and she shudders, a wicked smirk curls my mouth. “Not long, apparently.”
Her back arches off the bed as my teeth graze her skin, and I slide my hands beneath her, dragging them lower until I’m cupping the curve of her ass, lifting her to me. She gasps, herhands falling to the sheets like they’ve forgotten how to hold anything at all.
“I—” she exhales, shaky and breathless.
“Here,” I murmur against her open mouth, kissing her deeply, running my tongue over hers. “Let me help you.”
I rise just enough to shove my pants down, freeing the thick ache I’ve been holding back. My cock presses hot and heavy against her thigh, and she instinctively shifts, her legs parting just enough to welcome me. Her breath hitches at the contact with no barrier, no hesitation.
“Sophie,” I whisper, dragging the head of my cock through the heat between her legs. “Tell me you want this.”
