Page 75 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

There was strength in resistance, but sometimes true power lay in surrender.

‘I love you,’ I whispered, falling into his midnight eyes. ‘I love you so much.’

Anguish flooded his face and suddenly I wasn’t bent over his arm any more but turned to face the wall, shoved up against it, his hot, hard body coming up behind me, pinning me there. I turned my face to one side, the texture of the wallpaper pressing into my cheek and against the stiff points of my nipples, making my breathing wild and my heartbeat stampede in my head.

He put his arm against the back of my neck, keeping me jammed to the wall. His short, ragged breath was in my ear.

‘Those words mean nothing.’

There was a whole world of pain in his voice.

‘Don’t ever fucking say them.’

‘But they mean something to me,’ I gasped out. ‘I don’t want you to leave. I love you and I—’

His palm covered my mouth, stopping me from finishing.

I didn’t struggle. I let him keep his hand there. Because not being able to say the words didn’t change the intense rush of feeling in my heart.

But I shuddered as I felt him nudge my feet apart, knowing what was coming next. Wanting it. Craving it more than my next breath.

I heard his zipper being pulled down and then his lean, powerful body covered mine, worn denim and warm cotton against my bare back, his free hand reaching around to spread me open, the long, hard length of his cock pushing inside me.

We hadn’t bothered with condoms since I’d gone on the pill, and I shivered at the feel of his hot skin against my slick flesh, at the exquisite stretch and burn as he slid deeper, filling me. Impaling me.

I whimpered against his palm, the pleasure of him inside me making me arch against him, wanting more, wanting him deeper still.

‘Fuck... Cat...’ His whisper was desperate, and I felt him turn his face into my neck, the hand over my mouth sliding down to grip my throat in a possessive hold.

His free hand reached for the back of my knee, lifting my leg up, spreading me wider for him. Then he pressed his palm to the wall with my knee hooked over his wrist, opening me up, his cock pushing so deep I shook.

He began to fuck me hard, each thrust powerful, crushing me between the wallpapered surface at my front and the furnace heat of his body at my back.

I should have tried to protect my cheek from the rough scrape of the wallpaper. But I didn’t. I simply relaxed against him and let him do what he wanted, gave myself to the grip of his hand on my throat and the feel of his cock slamming in and out. His breath was hot against the back of my neck as he slid the hand on the wall up, lifting my leg higher, spreading me even wider. Then he adjusted his stance, thrusting up hard enough to lift me onto my toes, tilting my hips and making my back bow, penetrating me even deeper.

A choked sound escaped me as his rhythm picked up speed. The hand on my throat tightened, making me short of breath and light-headed.

But I wasn’t afraid. I would never be afraid of him.

‘There’s nothing you can do to push me away,’ I whispered. ‘There’s nothing you can do that I won’t want. There’s no part of me that isn’t yours. And even if you leave me I’ll still be here for you. I’ll always be here for you.’

‘Don’t say that.’

The raw anguish in his voice made my heart clench tight.

‘Don’t say that. Please.’

He thrust harder, faster, moving the hand around my throat down between my legs, his wicked fingers finding my clit, stroking me firmly, making the words mixed up in my head and my thighs shake. Making me pant like a dog as the orgasm rushed towards me and then crashed over my head, screaming Smoke’s name as I came.

His thrusts became wild, and then he slammed into me one last time, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he came, too, the raw sound he made loud in my ear.

I was too dazed to move for long moments after that, content to stand there with the heat of his rock-hard body at my back and the warmth of his breath against my nape.

But then I remembered what he’d been going to do and I squirmed, making him drop the hand with my leg hooked over it so I could stand. I turned, pushing at him because he was leaning heavily against me, wanting to see his face. Wanting to kiss him. Wanting to hold on to him before he tried to leave again.

His dark eyes met mine and for one long, aching second I thought I’d won. Then he looked away and I knew I hadn’t won after all. I’d lost.

Despair opened up inside me and I reached for him. But he’d already pushed himself away, stumbling back as he adjusted his clothing. His face was a mask, unyielding as stone.

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