Page 82 of Ruins
Heat licks through me, hunger sharp and instant.
She startles, eyes snapping to mine, her breath hitching in a quiet gasp. My need for her coils tighter.
She sets her book aside and slides off the window nook, her steps measured, almost hesitant, as she closes the space between us. Her small hand reaches for my wrist, tugging gently, urging me to follow.
I let her lead, watching every move she makes, every breath that causes her breasts to rise and fall. Her eyes flick over me, assessing, studying, and it takes everything in me to stay in control.
She stops in front of the couch, her useless robe still clinging to her frame, I want toripit off.
Her hand presses lightly on my shoulder, guiding me down.
I sit.
Captivated by her.
She stands between my legs, close, delicate fingers trailing up the buttons of my shirt. One by one, she works them open, brushing against my skin with every movement. Her touch is light, but itburns.
The subtle scent of her sweet cashmere perfume wraps around me, tightening the hold she already has on me. I clench my fists to keep from grabbing her, from dragging her against me and tasting every inch of her.
Then she speaks.
“Where are you hurt?”
The words hit like ice water.
She isn’t trying toseduceme.
My hand grips her wrist before I even register the movement. She gasps, eyes flicking up to mine, wide with something close to fear.
Only then do I notice the blood splattered across me.
She’s trying totendto me.
Realizing my hold has tightened, I release her wrist, guilt pressing down like a weight on my chest.
“It’s not mine,” I mutter, my voice rough. “I’m not hurt.”
Some of the tension in her face eases, but she steps back, pulling the robe around herself, as if shielding herself from me.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought—”
Before she can finish, I stand abruptly, and she stumbles, nearly losing her balance.
My hand catches her waist instinctively, steadying her. For a brief moment, our eyes lock, and I’m struck by the compassion shining in hers.
It’s disarming,unfamiliar, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the darkness inside me ebbs.
Her gaze drops—to my lips.
I rip myself away.
“It’s fine,” I rasp, my voice unrecognizable. “I’m going to shower. You should get some rest.”
I don’t wait for a response. I turn and leave, each step heavier than the last.
A part of me wants to turn back, to stay with her, to feel that fleeting humanity she offers.
But I know better. For her sake, I have to keep my distance.
