Page 61 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

‘What about this? Is this too much?’

I shuddered, my breathing catching.

He pressed a little harder, his free hand sliding around and across my stomach, down between my thighs, finding my clit and stroking me.

Pleasure stretched out, lazy and hot, and I panted, watching the darkness behind my lids fissuring, cracking.

‘Cat?’ A flick of his fingers against my aching clit. ‘Answer me.’

I heaved in a breath. ‘I...I...don’t know...’

Another push and my flesh was parting, momentarily painful, making me shiver and groan, my muscles tightening in response. I didn’t think I would ever want that, but it seemed like there were a lot of things I’d thought I wouldn’t want, only to find I needed them more than my next breath.

Perhaps he knew, because a deep, husky laugh broke from him—the utter bastard. ‘Thought as much. Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now I haven’t got much patience when it comes to getting inside you.’

He pulled away again, and this time a hint of anger and not a little bit of shame coiled through my relief. Jesus, backing away from this because I was scared meant I was being the goddamn chickenshit he’d accused me of being earlier.

And I wasn’t. I so wasn’t.

‘I’m not scared.’

I wanted to prove it to him, backing up against him, pushing insistently, or at least as much as I could with his hand on my neck.

That hand firmed, stilling me. ‘Stop,’ he ordered quietly, and I did, unable to resist the gentle command in his voice. The pressure eased. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Cat.’

‘Don’t I? Didn’t you call me chickenshit before?’

He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse. ‘I shouldn’t have. I was a tool.’

His free hand moved to my back, stroking down my spine in soothing motion.

‘I’m not fucking you in the ass right now anyway. I’ve got some lube, but you’ll need preparation—and, like I said, I haven’t got the patience right now. I’m not into pain—least of all yours.’

A blush worked its way up my throat to my cheeks. Not knowing what else to say and feeling ridiculous, I tried to sit up. But his hand was heavy on my neck again, keeping me where I was.

‘Doesn’t mean I’m not going to fuck you, though,’ he murmured. ‘So stay exactly like that. Don’t move.’

The hand on my neck and the heat at my back disappeared as he got off the couch. I could have got up, too, if I’d wanted to. But he’d told me to stay there so I did, with my head on the couch cushions and my butt in the air, watching him as he went to get another condom from the box. All lithe, easy grace and fluid muscle, the Knights tattoo spread out on his back flexing as he tore open the packet and rolled the latex down.

The pulse of desire was back between my legs...hungry and empty.

Smoke turned and came back, kneeling behind me again, leaning over me, his hands coming down on either side of my head. The heat of his body was there once more, pressing against me... God, I loved the feel of him.

I shivered as I felt him shift, his right hand lifting from beside my head to touch my shoulder and then sliding down the curve of my spine. A long, gentle stroke to the small of my back and then up again. I arched into his hand like the kitten he called me, a ripple of pleasure making me lift my hips, press my butt insistently against him, wanting him.

He didn’t seem to take the hint, just stroking me easy and slow. Then I felt the warmth of his breath on the small of my back.

I tensed. What the hell was he doing now?

His hands curved over my butt in a gentle caress, moving lower between my thighs, easing my legs wide apart. And then, shockingly, his tongue pushed into me from behind—a hard, deep thrust.

I gasped, my fingers sinking deep into the couch cushions as a bolt of the most intense pleasure shot up my spine, exploding in my head. Instinctively I tried to move, but his hands gripped the backs of my thighs, holding me in place as he gave me another long lick, his tongue sliding inside me.

I groaned and shut my eyes as he did it again and again, tearing gasps from my throat, making my legs shake, making me want to lift my hips to give him better access. But he held me so tight I couldn’t move. All I could do was stay on my hands and knees, sobbing with pleasure while he ate me from behind, begging him to end it.

But he didn’t. Only when I was incoherent with pleasure did he stop, leaving me wet and throbbing and empty.

Straightening up to cover me again, he pushed his weight against my back, the heat of his groin against my butt.

Then he thrust his cock deep inside me. Hard.

I came instantly, screaming into the cushions, my pussy clenching hard around him as he slid in and out, slow and easy and deep. And he kept going as if he had all the time in the world, his fingers slipping around and underneath me to find my swollen, aching clit. Toying with me until I was shaking and gasping all over again.

I don’t know how many times I came before he moved harder, faster, taking for himself what he’d given me. But there was one thing I was certain of.

He’d wrecked me.

He’d ruined me.

And I would never be the same again.

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