Page 126 of Beautiful Ruins
His hands moved under my thighs, thumbs pressing into skin like he needed to confirm I was real.Alive.Untouched.
The world he came from was brutal.I saw that clearly now.He would always be capable of terrible things.But he would never turn them toward me.That was the line.
When he carried me to our room, he didn’t speak.
The air between us had shifted.Thicker.Charged.I could feel it in the way his jaw flexed, in the way his grip on my thighs tightened just slightly before he set me down at the edge of the bed.
He stood between my knees, looking down at me like he was fighting something inside himself.
“You should shower,” I whispered, my fingers sliding up his chest.
“I will.”
But he didn’t move.
I reached for his wrist and lifted his hand between us again.His muscles tensed immediately as I pressed my lips to the inside of his palm.
He inhaled sharply.
“Izzy…”
“You came home to me,” I murmured against his skin.
His restraint cracked.He stepped forward, forcing me back onto the mattress.His body followed, weight braced on his forearms so he didn’t crush me, but close enough that I felt the heat of him everywhere.
“You don’t understand what I did tonight, Izzy.”
“I don’t need to.”
His mouth found mine.It wasn’t soft this time.It wasn’t careful.It was hungry.
His kiss claimed, devoured, swallowed.My fingers dug into his shoulders as he kissed me like he’d been holding himself back for hours.
His hands moved over me with urgency — down my waist, under my nightshirt, palms spanning skin like he was grounding himself.
I gasped into his mouth when his fingers closed around my hip, pulling me flush against him.
“You shouldn’t want me after this,” he growled against my lips.
“I do.”
His control frayed at the edges.
He kissed down my throat, slow and deliberate, teeth grazing skin just enough to make me shiver.One hand slid to my thigh, pushing it higher around his waist.
I reached between us, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.Each exposed inch of skin felt like reclaiming him from whatever darkness he’d walked through tonight.
He watched me as I did it.
Eyes dark.Focused.When my fingers brushed his chest, he closed his eyes for half a second — long enough for me to see the crack in him.
“Is this really what you want?”he demanded in a low voice.
“Yes.”
My hand slid lower.
“I think that makes you mine now.”
