Page 65 of Ruined By the Enemy
The kiss is deep, intoxicating, stained with the dark taste of wine and everything I’ve been aching for. His tongue sweeps mine, greedy and unhurried, like he wants me to know exactly what I’m about to surrender to.
I whimper into his mouth—just a little—and he pulls back, watching me with a look that pins me in place.
“Let’s see how you taste with it,” he murmurs, voice dark and velvet-smooth.
He tips the glass slowly.
The wine spills—warm and red—between my breasts, sliding down my skin in a slow, sticky trail. I gasp, hips twitching, and he watches every drop like it’s priceless.
Then he bends low, with his mouth open, and his tongue chases the path it made, straight between my legs and over the curls below my stomach.
When his mouth closes around my clit, sucking every drop clean, my body bows off the bed, and my vision implodes. My fingernails dig into the sheets, and my toes curl as I orgasm, feeling every part of me tear away as I plunge into oblivion, shuddering from head to toe.
My teeth clatter as I struggle to breathe, but I’m barely steady when Dom kisses me again—hungry and claiming—then slides between my thighs and thrusts deep.
He lifts my legs around his waist, driving into me with a rhythm that feels desperate and deliberate all at once.
All I know is the stretch, the fullness, the way he groans against my neck like he’s losing his mind right along with me.
“You take me so well,” he pants, “so fucking tight—look at you.”
I do, and that’s all it takes.
My body shatters around him, clenching hard with another climax as I cry out. He thrusts deeper, chasing his release like he’s chasing my soul.
And maybe, for a second, when we both collapse together, it feels like he has it.
Chapter Seventeen
Dom
“We’re meeting with the winery managers this morning,” I say, skipping preambles and small talk when I walk into the kitchen the next morning.
Sophie turns to me, a half toast between her teeth, and for a half breath, the image of her standing with a wine glass last night slips into my head.
I blink and it vanishes. “You’re coming along with me… unless there’s something keeping you from behind there.”
Like yesterday.
I kept the details of the trip a secret because I wanted to see her raw, unmasked reaction when we pulled up at the winery. What I didn’t expect waswhathappened.
The tears in her eyes, the way she dug her fingers into the dirt as if trying to keep from crumbling. It wasn’t Sophie guarding her secret from me… it was her at the most vulnerable moment.
And for a moment—an hour, the entire night until I walked into the kitchen and found her—I wondered if I’d pushed too far.
“Like I said,” she gives a brief shoulder shrug, “it’s what you hired me to do.”
The same thing she said yesterday when she apologized for what happened, even though I could see the smudged marks of her mascara and the path her tears took when they ran down her face.
Does it mean that much to her, the winery?I realize I never bothered to find out why the Bellinis went under after what happened between our families.
I just assumed they were taking the cowardly way out to avoid the consequences of their actions.
And her reaction yesterday wasn’t that of someone who wanted to protect something precious. It was grief—like she had lost it already.
Knowing Sophie’s history of manipulating things to go her way, I’d assumed she’d pretend to play along while pulling the strings behind the scenes.
I thought I knew almost everything, but yesterday was different.
