Page 127 of Beautiful Ruins
His mouth claimed mine again, deeper, slower this time, yet possessive.
His hands were everywhere.At my waist.My ribs.My thighs.Holding.Anchoring.
He kissed me until my head spun.Until the world narrowed to breath and heat and the steady weight of him pressing me into the mattress.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
“I think you might be my new obsession.”
“You think so?”
“You don’t get half of me.”
“I wouldn’t take just half.”
His hand slid into my hair, gripping gently but firmly, tilting my head back so he could look at me.
“I will protect you with everything I have, Izzy.”
“I know.”
Always.
The word burned in his eyes.
When he moved inside me, it wasn’t rushed.It was claiming and powerful and electric.He held my gaze the entire time — and I met him, matched him, wrapped around him willingly.
His hands tightened at my hips, breath rough, control slipping in measured increments.
“Izzy.”The way he spoke my name was both warning and surrender.
I clung to him, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space left between us at all.
When he finally stilled, his forehead dropped to my shoulder, breath hot and uneven against my skin.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
His hand slid up my spine slowly, possessively.
“Are you here because you’re afraid of me,” he wanted to know.
“No.”
“You should be.”
“I’m not.”
He lifted his head.There was still darkness in his eyes.But there was something else there too.Something almost fragile.
I traced my thumb over his jaw.
“I know exactly what you are,” I whispered.“And I’m still here.”
His grip tightened.And when his hands moved over my skin again, reverent and careful and almost painfully restrained, I understood something terrifying.
I wasn’t falling for a man despite the monster.
I was falling for him because he knew exactly when to unleash it.
