Page 156 of Ruins
Luca doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t back down. “Vasilisa is a loyal woman,” he says, voice like steel. “And I am a loyal man.Rememberthat before you throw your jealousy in the wrong direction.”
He brushes past me, his steps measured, deliberate—leaving me alone in the hallway with nothing but the weight of his words.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
I stare at the closed door, anger still simmering, jealousy burning through my veins like a sickness. She doesn’t deserve this. She has done nothing but followmywishes. And yet…
The image of her, surrounded by them.Laughing. At ease. Free in a way she should only be withme. It gnaws at me like a wound that refuses to close.
I force myself to move, retreating to my own room. Stripping once I'm there, I collapse onto my unmade bed, exhaling sharply.
My fingers twitch toward my phone.
I shouldn’t.
But the thought of seeing her, just for a moment—peaceful, warm, untouched by the weight I put on her shoulders—tempts me.
It’s been too long since I felt her skin. Too long since I carried her upstairs.
Too long since I held what'smine.
Giving in, I pull up the surveillance feed to her room.
I tell myself it’s just to check on her—to see if she’s sleeping, to convince myself that she’s still within reach even when she feels so far away.
But the moment the screen lights up, every thought evaporates.
Vasilisa isn’t asleep.
She’s writhing on the bed, her body arching, her thighs parting, soft moans spilling from her lips—my nameslipping into the silence like a secret she only trusts the darkness to hear.
Heat scorches through me, my grip tightening around the phone as my pulse pounds like a war drum.
My wife is touching herself.
Touching what'smine.
A sharp possessiveness grips my chest like a vice. The sight of her fingers gliding between her thighs, disappearing beneath the thin scrap of lace she wears, is a temptation I can’t turn away from. My cock hardens instantly, aching at the sheerwrongnessof the moment—Ishould be the one touching her, drawing those sounds from her lips, making her come undone beneathme.
She’s mine.Every inch of her belongs to me.
I can’t stop myself. I don’t even try.
Dragging my free hand down, I palm my aching length wrapping my fingers around the rigid heat of my cock. A shudder rips through me as I stroke myself to the rhythm she sets for herself, my breath sharp, my restraint unraveling with every soft gasp she gives.
The little nightgown she wears has bunched around her waist, giving me a perfect view of her fingers slipping deeper into her panties, her body twisting with every slow, torturous stroke. Her other hand fists the sheets, knuckles white as she fights for control, butI knowshe’s close.
Her breath hitches. Her thighs tense.
A broken moan, a sharp cry as her back bows off the mattress. Her legs snap shut, her body quaking as she comes apart—on her own, without me—but it’s the way she says my name, soft and breathless, that ruins me completely.
My jaw clenches, my grip tightening as I chase the high she’s already lost to. The possessiveness in my chest turns feral, burning through my veins like fire as my body tightens, need consuming every last thread of control.
She wants me.Even when I’m not there, it’s still me she’s reaching for.
Pleasure explodes behind my eyes, my body tensing as I spill into my hand, heat smearing across my stomach and the sheets beneath me. My breath is ragged, my pulse hammering as the last waves of release shudder through me.
Still, it’s not enough.
