Page 193 of Ruins
“No,” I say firmly, my hands cradling her face. “Never again, Vasilisa. Never again will you be alone. Never again will you wonder where I am. Never again will I let you feel unwanted.”
“Never again?” her brow furrows.
“If I have to leave, I will always come home, you will always have friends and I will never leave without telling you why,” I promise her and I mean it.
I will spend the rest of my days making up for the months she was left lonely. I will be the man she deserves and keep Scythe far from her.
She gives me a brilliant smile, “We have the rest of the day?” her eyes glitter.
“We have the rest of themonth.”
Her smile widens even more at my words, her hands coming up to drape around my neck as he pulls me closer. “That’s a lot of time,” her voice is quiet, warm.
“It is, and I want to spend all of it with you.” I say, pulling her in tighter as she rises onto her tiptoes for a kiss.
Our lips meet and my heart pounds in my chest as if it’s trying to catch up with something that’s been missing for too long.
I hook my hands beneath her thighs and lift her effortlessly. She gasps, her legs locking around me as I take her mouth, stealing every breath, every sound, every piece of her she’ll give me.
We pull away from each other after what feels like forever, her lips bruised and kiss-swollen, her face flushed and glowing.
She pushes back gently, breathless, eyes shining. “I think we should make dinner together,” she says, grinning in that way that dismantles me completely. That infectious, hopeful smile—one I could never resist.
Cooking together feels like a dream. We move effortlessly around each other, our bodies naturally in sync. It’s effortless, instinctual, like we’ve done this for years.
After we finish eating, I feel the weight of the last few days settle heavily over me.
“I’m going to shower, Mia Dea,” I murmur after we load the dishwasher.
She smiles, but surprises me by following me upstairs.
She doesn’t say anything.
Just watches.
As I strip down and turn on the water, I glance back to find her standing in the doorway, a vision wrapped in soft curiosity and something deeper—something uncertain but willing.
She is so goddamn beautiful.
The soft glow of the bathroom light catches the angles of her face, the delicate line of her throat, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Her hair spills over her shoulders in a way that makes my breath hitch.
I step into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me, loosening my muscles, washing away the weight of my sins.
I forget she’s still here—until the lights dim.
Until I feel her.
Her arms slide around my waist, soft, cautious fingers brushing over my stomach.
I inhale sharply, a violent shiver tearing through me.
I don’t deserve this.
I bring her hand to my lips, kissing each fingertip, reverent, worshiping as I turn to face her.
She presses herself against me, her bare skin meeting mine. Warm. Wet. Perfect.
A low chuckle rumbles from my chest.
