Page 49 of Ruined By the Enemy
She nods, with dazed eyes. “I do. I want—Dom, I want you.”
I thrust, letting her take me in one breath. She lets it out as I pause and I brace on my elbows, savoring the way her body draws me in, tight and pulsing around me.
Sophie moans deep in her throat as I pull out, her fingers clawing at my back as I sink in.
One mistake, and this could turn into a disaster…but the alarm doesn’t ring like a warning. Instead, it teases. A permanent reminder that she’s mine.
Rolling over with a hand firmly around her waist, I guide Sophie on top of me. Her arms shake as she plants them on my chest, her hair tumbling over her shoulders.
She looks wrecked, but when she moves, pushing her hips in a slow, desperate rhythm, her expression is a heady mix of greed and surrender.
I groan, tightening my grip on her waist as she rolls her hips again, grinding down on me with a breathy moan. Her head falls back, throat exposed, eyes fluttering shut.
The sight is nearly enough to ruin me.Or maybe I’m ruined already.
“Sophie…” Her name leaves my mouth as I clamp my fingers on her arm to slow her down, but she doesn’t listen. It urges her on, leaving me to catch up.
Her movements falter as her fingers drag over my chest, leaving red, scorching marks. The tremble in her thighs gives her away seconds before she comes, falling on my chest with a cry that echoes in my ears.
I sit up and my arms lock around her as I take over the final strokes, holding her flush to me, losing myself in the way she clenches and gasps against my mouth, with just seconds to listen to the small voice saving me at the last moment.
She slumps against me, trembling and breathless, and I hold her, finding an anchor in her softness and the erratic thud of her heart against mine.
Chapter Thirteen
Sophie
The sun hits my face gently, warm and lazy, and I groan, turning over with a sigh as I burrow deeper into the sheets. They’re ridiculously soft and smooth against my skin, and warm in a way that wraps around me like arms.
Arms?
My brows pinch faintly. I nuzzle into the pillow, expecting the familiar scent of lavender and clean cotton from my apartment.
But that’s not what I get.
This pillow smells masculine and expensive, and the sheets aren’t mine. My eyes snap open, and I bolt up like a straight arrow.
The room is dipped in a muted cream-and-gold palette, tall windows stretching high above floors I’ve never seen before.There’s a minimalist lamp by the bed, and the light coming in is filtered through thick curtains that aren’t mine.
Where the hell am I?
I sit up quickly, clutching the sheets to my chest when I realize that I’m naked.
The dress I wore last night is folded over a nearby armchair. My heels are neatly placed beneath it, and my clutch sits on the side table like someone put it there.
Which means someone undressed me.
No.The memories of last night flood back. Not that they needed to, because there’s no way I’d have forgotten what happened.
Forgotten the way he kissed me and the tremors that spread like wildfire through silk before he pressed his mouth between my legs, his tongue on my clit and my fingers tangled in his hair.
Or his fingers, either.
I peek under the covers instinctively, but the feeling hits me like a rush of liquor down my throat, warming my insides.His fingers. Two of them inside me, while the wet heat of his tongue brought me to the brink of tears.
My legs slam shut beneath the sheets as a gasp rips out of me.
The sheets fall from my hands. “I slept with him.” The words leave my mouth in a hoarse whisper.
